How do you like my snazzy titles? Eh? Eh?
Today was another 700 metres, and another chance to put my panic-avoidance measures to work. And once again, they worked like a charm. A little history…
I used to swim a lot. In the lake near where I grew up, mostly, but also laps in our school’s pool. I’ve never been fast, but I’ve always been a good swimmer with nice technique. Kind of like my power walking: I’m never going to win a race, but I’ll still be moving long after your legs are reduced to stumps 
And I’ve never been afraid in the water.
Skip ahead, oh, say, just shy of two decades to last year, when I made my first attempt in forever to swim laps.
Fear. Panicky, short of breath, I can’t do this, just get me to the edge of the pool for the love of mud. I was completely befuddled by my reaction, not to mention a little embarrassed. I’ve been swimming since the age of four. Or so I’m told. I don’t remember not being able to swim. And I sure as shooting don’t remember being afraid.
It took me a week or two to figure out what the problem was. I kept forcing myself back in the water, telling myself not to be stupid. I’d go out too fast, I knew it, and be floundering before I’d even gone a lap. And then it hit me. That fear? It wasn’t fear of the water. It was fear of heights! I have an insane, completely irrational, nearly phobic fear of heights.** Back when I was swimming regularly before, I was blind as a bat without my coke bottle glasses. I couldn’t see the bottom of the pool. I couldn’t see the really scary part, where the pool dropped off from five feet of water to a mind-numbing ten foot depth. But since I had laser eye surgery in 2005 my vision is better than 20/20. I can see everything. Especially that blue line on the bottom of the pool falling drastically away beneath me.
Last year I combatted this by always choosing an outside lane so I was near a wall and doing lots of back and breast stroke. And after a few weeks I didn’t bother trying anymore because of the lack of lap swim hours available to me. This year my coping mechanisms are a little more thought out. I’d like to be in this for the long term. I love swimming, even more than power walking. It’s a wonderful escape for me. I want to keep it in my life this time. So, here’s how I’ve been slaying the beast:
- I’m lucky that my new pool has only one depth: deep. The blue line doesn’t fall away beneath my body, it just stays steady. That’s extremely helpful.
- I do the first 100 metres breast stroke, giving myself to relax and get comfortable in the water.
- Once I’m into freestyle, I look toward the horizon, not to the bottom of the pool. It occurs to me that this is Swimming 101, if I had ever taken Swimming 101. You look where you want to go.
- I take it slow and easy; I don’t race to clutch the wall just to do it all over again. This, of course, helps me keep my breathing in check, which used to add to the panicky feeling.
