I was nothing short of surprised when I made the last lap, ending at the edge of the pool wall panting and clinging to the side. I had swum half a mile, down and back, in a lap pool. It may not sound as impressive as climbing Mt. Everest, but I had just conquered my personal mountain.
It was when I was too tired to jump on a treadmill again that I began to look for other ways to work out. Swimming was last on that list of sweat-it-out possibilities. For one, I would have to wear a swimming suit. When you are trying to lose weight and reacquire some self-esteem, donning a one-piece is like eating an entire cake: not that great for your weight or your self-esteem. Then I would have to wear goggles, and a swimming cap, and subsequently be mistaken for an overgrown child early for her swim class.
I looked to jogging outdoors instead. But it is winter in Colorado, and 29 degrees for the high never seems to be warm enough for a run. I looked to biking. Again, with snow on the ground, it just isn’t safe or practical. I looked into lifting weights at the gym, but without someone pushing me to lift more or go one more set, I am pretty hopeless at sticking to that routine. So swimming was all there was left on my long list. I went out the next day and donned a bathing suit.
The first time I walked into the pool area at my neighbourhood YMCA, I was so nervous I found it hard not to turn around and leave. Placing one foot in front of another, I made it to an empty lane in the lap pool. I tossed my towel down and slid into the water quickly, lest the teenage lifeguard glance in my direction and call me out as a fraud. I bobbed in the water for a while. And then, with great courage, I slapped my goggles over my eyes and dove underwater.
To my surprise, it is quiet under the water, even in a lap pool. No iPod music, no huffing and puffing from the swimmer next to me, no yelling from the kiddy pool… just silence. I came up for air and pushed off the wall, resurrecting my swimming lessons from a child to get me to the other side of the pool. And I did it. And then I swam back. And then I started counting lengths. And then I started counting laps.
The thing about swimming that I found refreshing is that it is, well, refreshing. I don’t sweat profusely, and I don’t get upset when my neighbour on the cardio machine starts talking on her cell phone, and I really don’t mind if my iPod dies unexpectedly. All there is in the water is myself and my ability to make it to the other side. There are no heart monitors or calorie counts or time specifications. I am simply swimming.
After my first workout swimming, I felt exhausted. My arms felt as though someone had punched them, and my skin still smelt of chlorine. But I realized it was a happy exhausted, like when I was a kid and I would go swimming for the day–by evening, I was sunburned and dehydrated but still wouldn’t come out of the pool because I was having just too much fun. The bottom line is, what had at first started out as a swimming routine has actually ended up as glorious as a view from the top of Mt. Everest. I think it’s safe to say I have a new workout routine.
Top Indoor Pools Across the World
New York: Gravity at Le Parker Meridien
Vancouver: Terminal City Club
Sydney: Aquatic Centre
Paris: Joséphine Baker
London: The Langham
Image courtesy of Scented Mirror
