No need to call a lifeguard. I’m fine, really.
Nothing to look at here. Keep it moving.
Everyone has strengths and weaknesses. Some athletes can haul out the distance with endurance and grace, but would be toast in a sprint. Some can cycle centuries but keep a flotation device next to their bath tubs. Others can pitch a ball with startling accuracy, but can’t run bases to save themselves from the charging bull on their heels. And there are others, the crowd I run with, who can do some things without completely embarrassing themselves (those would be the strengths), but other things need a little coaxing and pep talking from the co-ordination fairy before we’re convinced we are okay to try them (those would be the weaknesses).
Yesterday, I was alone in the pool. No one else in the water. No one on the deck. And the thought occurred to me, “I should really practice the back stroke. The conditions are never going to be any better than this.” When I finished the set I was working on, I took a deep breath of confidence, looked around to make sure there was no one around that I would ram (or be heckled by), and went for it.
That was the slowest, sloppiest length of my life. And who-eee, did it get the heart rate up. (Though it’s debatable whether it was completely from the physical activity, or if my pulse was influenced by the anxiety, “Oh my god, I’m gonna miscount my strokes, not see the color of the lane rope change, whack my head right as people come out onto the pool deck and look like a total idiot.”)
The next lengths got a bit easier as I was able to relax into them a bit more and actually attempt to keep my chin up, my forehead back and do it properly. I’m fairly sure I zigzagged the lane atrociously, but I’m proud to say I finished two sets of 100m. (Split by 100m breast stroke as my reward.) It wasn’t pretty, but I’ll get better. It has been over ten years since I did the back stroke. I think I remember why I never competed in it.