My First Swimming Class
Jun. 30th, 2004 02:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fredericksI got off of work rather early today and, after heading over to Hunter to take care of some more paperwork, I moseyed on down to the Y for my very first ever swim class. I spent much of my ride humming In the Navy under my breath because it's a song featured on DDR2, performed by the Village People, who also performed YMCA. Long convoluted association. See how my noggin works?
Anyway, I'm all psyched for this thing by the time I get to the Y (which, incidentally, I found to be surprisingly new, neat, and tidy on my initial visit, debunking my previous idea of the Y being a dank and dirtier variation on gay bath houses; guess I missed that little gem by three decades or so). I bought a new suit, a snazzy top and bottom set, and a very hot swimcap. I'm thinking to myself "I'm going to show this pool who's boss. Oh yeah!"
So I head to the locker room and get dressed, then head to the pool room. My eyes began to sting almost instantly, there was so much damn chlorine in the air. I'm standing against the wall, observing the tail end of the family swim, seeing all these little kids lord the swimming thing. I'm *still* thinking "Oh, hells yeah. Welcome to bitchitude, pool. I OWN you, ho!" The other nine or so adult swimmers emerge slowly, and stand in my vicinity. They're all looking pretty timid, which probably should have clued me in. I think the swimcap cut off some circulation to my brain, though, in my defense.
The lifeguard tells us that our instructor is getting changed, and tells us to sit on the edge of the pool and just kick our legs. I instantly revert to a five year-old and start splashing water every which way. The instructor emerges and puts a halt to my fun, telling us all to get into the water, hold on to the edge of the pool, and kick while in a horizontal position. At first I think it's easy, but then I realize it's only easy to do it incorrectly. The whole pushing water thing and staying afloat was what was giving me hell. The instructor went down the row of us, adjusting and giving advice as needed. That was Lesson One, and after five minutes of kicking and aid from the instructor I still couldn't get it down.
Lesson Two was water breathing, which apparently consists of gasping and then making water fart bubbles (or, as it's called in proper circles, "inhaling over water and exhaling under water"). That I had down-pat. Simple as pie.It was all downhill from there.
Lesson Three was kicking your way across the length of the pool using one of those float-y board thinggeys. Needless to say, since I couldn't manage to master Lesson One, Lesson Three wasn't going to be thrashed. A number of my classmates seemed to be in the same boat as me, and we all looked askew at the instructor when she demonstrated what she wanted of us. We tried anyway, and I'm fairly certain I ended up kicking this kind Irish guy in the face while trying not.to.drown. I mean, the pool was only four feet deep, but still, a person can, I don't know, fall and not get up or something along those lines. I mean, I would kick but I wouldn't go anywhere. Nowhere at all. When the instructor chastized me for standing up in the water, I lamely tried to cover my ass by lying and saying it was my first time in the water (I'm such a pansy). She then said that that meant I shouldn't get upset that I wasn't moving anywhere while I was kicking. Ha. Sure, chica.
Lesson Four was something like kicking your way across the pool with the boards while breathing in the way previously taught, a lesson that required an intricate mastery of Lesson One. Which was still bending me over and taking me obscenely. When I gamely tried to make my way across the pool and still didn't make any leeway, the instructor said it was because I had "weak legs" and seemed a tad frustrated herself (all of the women in the class seemed stuck on Lesson One). Riiiiight. And how the fuck does knowing that nugget help me do what the hell you want me to do? Stop bitching at me about my lack of kicking then, if my legs are so damn weak.
What killed me about the class was the speed of progression. I clearly remember my first day of clarinet lessons, where we spent the whole day blowing through the mouthpiece. Forty-five minutes learning how to position my mouth. I was never expected to play Clair De Lune in my first day of music class. Slow and steady; learn the basics thoroughly, build a foundation and move on. That's how it is even for mundane things like handwriting class, and in both of those things you don't run the risk of drinking in nasty amounts of water that burns your insides or kicking hapless foreign classmates.
Around Lesson Seven (don't ask me what that particular one was about; all lessons after Three are lost in a blur of bluish-tinted water for me) the instructor said that she wanted to see us freestyling by the end of the class (class is an hour long, btw). I snorted and thought "Oh, you want me to freestyle *rap*? I'll see what I can do. But swim? Right, lady, tell me another one." And it wasn't just me! It just annoyed me that by the end of class most of the guys could make it down the length once without the floaty thing sans major stoppage. When I put the board down and tried freestyle, on a lark, I managed to make it half-way before giving up. However, I think that was due solely to my arm movement. I still, for the life of me, can't do anything with my feet.
So, that was basically my class. My eyes are burning even as I type this, three hours later at home, and my hair seriously requires washing, but I did enjoy myself (somewhat; could have done without the chlorine intake). I hear that next week we're supposed to build on the freestyling. I think I'm going to be getting real friendly with my float-y thinggey.
Anyway, I'm all psyched for this thing by the time I get to the Y (which, incidentally, I found to be surprisingly new, neat, and tidy on my initial visit, debunking my previous idea of the Y being a dank and dirtier variation on gay bath houses; guess I missed that little gem by three decades or so). I bought a new suit, a snazzy top and bottom set, and a very hot swimcap. I'm thinking to myself "I'm going to show this pool who's boss. Oh yeah!"
So I head to the locker room and get dressed, then head to the pool room. My eyes began to sting almost instantly, there was so much damn chlorine in the air. I'm standing against the wall, observing the tail end of the family swim, seeing all these little kids lord the swimming thing. I'm *still* thinking "Oh, hells yeah. Welcome to bitchitude, pool. I OWN you, ho!" The other nine or so adult swimmers emerge slowly, and stand in my vicinity. They're all looking pretty timid, which probably should have clued me in. I think the swimcap cut off some circulation to my brain, though, in my defense.
The lifeguard tells us that our instructor is getting changed, and tells us to sit on the edge of the pool and just kick our legs. I instantly revert to a five year-old and start splashing water every which way. The instructor emerges and puts a halt to my fun, telling us all to get into the water, hold on to the edge of the pool, and kick while in a horizontal position. At first I think it's easy, but then I realize it's only easy to do it incorrectly. The whole pushing water thing and staying afloat was what was giving me hell. The instructor went down the row of us, adjusting and giving advice as needed. That was Lesson One, and after five minutes of kicking and aid from the instructor I still couldn't get it down.
Lesson Two was water breathing, which apparently consists of gasping and then making water fart bubbles (or, as it's called in proper circles, "inhaling over water and exhaling under water"). That I had down-pat. Simple as pie.It was all downhill from there.
Lesson Three was kicking your way across the length of the pool using one of those float-y board thinggeys. Needless to say, since I couldn't manage to master Lesson One, Lesson Three wasn't going to be thrashed. A number of my classmates seemed to be in the same boat as me, and we all looked askew at the instructor when she demonstrated what she wanted of us. We tried anyway, and I'm fairly certain I ended up kicking this kind Irish guy in the face while trying not.to.drown. I mean, the pool was only four feet deep, but still, a person can, I don't know, fall and not get up or something along those lines. I mean, I would kick but I wouldn't go anywhere. Nowhere at all. When the instructor chastized me for standing up in the water, I lamely tried to cover my ass by lying and saying it was my first time in the water (I'm such a pansy). She then said that that meant I shouldn't get upset that I wasn't moving anywhere while I was kicking. Ha. Sure, chica.
Lesson Four was something like kicking your way across the pool with the boards while breathing in the way previously taught, a lesson that required an intricate mastery of Lesson One. Which was still bending me over and taking me obscenely. When I gamely tried to make my way across the pool and still didn't make any leeway, the instructor said it was because I had "weak legs" and seemed a tad frustrated herself (all of the women in the class seemed stuck on Lesson One). Riiiiight. And how the fuck does knowing that nugget help me do what the hell you want me to do? Stop bitching at me about my lack of kicking then, if my legs are so damn weak.
What killed me about the class was the speed of progression. I clearly remember my first day of clarinet lessons, where we spent the whole day blowing through the mouthpiece. Forty-five minutes learning how to position my mouth. I was never expected to play Clair De Lune in my first day of music class. Slow and steady; learn the basics thoroughly, build a foundation and move on. That's how it is even for mundane things like handwriting class, and in both of those things you don't run the risk of drinking in nasty amounts of water that burns your insides or kicking hapless foreign classmates.
Around Lesson Seven (don't ask me what that particular one was about; all lessons after Three are lost in a blur of bluish-tinted water for me) the instructor said that she wanted to see us freestyling by the end of the class (class is an hour long, btw). I snorted and thought "Oh, you want me to freestyle *rap*? I'll see what I can do. But swim? Right, lady, tell me another one." And it wasn't just me! It just annoyed me that by the end of class most of the guys could make it down the length once without the floaty thing sans major stoppage. When I put the board down and tried freestyle, on a lark, I managed to make it half-way before giving up. However, I think that was due solely to my arm movement. I still, for the life of me, can't do anything with my feet.
So, that was basically my class. My eyes are burning even as I type this, three hours later at home, and my hair seriously requires washing, but I did enjoy myself (somewhat; could have done without the chlorine intake). I hear that next week we're supposed to build on the freestyling. I think I'm going to be getting real friendly with my float-y thinggey.
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no subject
Date: 2004-06-30 05:49 am (UTC)Chlorine...what's a little bit of the "green killer", anyway? Really, though, you get used to it. I would, however, recommend that you buy some shampoo designed to treat Cl2-damaged hair, though, if you don't want your hair to feel like straw. Anyway, good luck with your lessons!
They did progress rather fast
Date: 2004-06-30 07:49 am (UTC)I was once (in my ancient past) a National Lifeguard and swimming instructor. Qualified out the wazoo.
You're prob'ly gonna have to teach yourself part of this mumbo jumbo called swimming, because your instructor isn't willing to get wet.
First, you need the right angle for a kick to be effective. Your body has to approach parallel with the surface.
Did they do a float check? Do you sink? Do only your legs sink (and I mean DOWN not just a little down)? Describe how you float (if you want me to diagnose). It's important. Because if your feet are mostly sunk, then when you kick, well, you know which way the propulsion is kicking you. Up. That's not quite what we want. Kicking will be more difficult based on that because you will be expending force to keep your body floating.
Don't panic. That's not the end of the world. A kick, isn't just a kick. I hate that they want to teach you freestyle, but it's probably safest for your knees. A freestyle flutter kick requires that you kick with your whole leg. Not froggy like, but highly coordinated. And the most important point is that the power come down through the lower leg. Hip Knee Ankle. Those joints. Hip makes the big movement, knee brings the lower leg into propulsive mode and the ankle flicks to give that push. It all works to make you move.
If you were a child, your teacher would jump in the pool, put a hand under your belly button and support you while you practiced this. Ideally, that is. As you get used to the idea of being parallel in the water, you get used to keeping your feet and legs more or less straight. You stop kicking the surface and instead kick just below. The knee never flexes fully not even a half. Instead, it just relaxes until the next push from the hip. Push Down, Push Up.
Now I can't see you to see exactly what your "weak kick" looks like. But I know you have muscles. All the women in your class (or many, as indicated by your post) had trouble with kicking. Not unusual. Adult women carry most muscle mass in their legs. Making their legs sink. Yup, fat floats, muscle sinks. It's a correctible problem.
Don't give up. Work it out. In the end, it's just physics and biomechanics. There may be something special about your legs that's interfering with the process, but more likely your instructor is being lazy about getting in the water and looking your movement over to see what the problem is. That's because students tend to work the problem out themselves in time (so long as they don't quit because their moron instructor is too lazy to give them simple assistance).
If you have any questions, I'm in Japan. Until August.
Chris.
P.S. By the by, I meant to say that you are invited to stroll up to Burlington, ON, any time after I move and meet us, should the inclination arise, along with relevant means (cash, vehicle, tickets, time-off, whatever). I will likewise entertain a trip to the big NYC; I know Yuki is dying to go, since she's never been.
Re: They did progress rather fast
Date: 2004-06-30 07:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-06-30 02:34 pm (UTC)/dramatics
*grin* It just seemed odd to progress when I couldn't get the basics down, and it seems that my instructor wasn't terribly on the ball. She didn't so much observe and work with you as continually tell us to "point our toies [sic]" (weirdest pronunciation of "toes" I've ever hear, to be sure). I pointed the damned things 'til I could point no more, and still didn't go anywhere. My movement up the pool at the end of class I attributed to the windmilling of my arms more than anything. I figure next week I'll get into the pool early and leave late, giving myself more time to practice without the ineffective help.
And thanks for the luck. It's fun, it really is. I'm hoping to be able to manage laps by the intermediary session (fingers crossed).
Jeez, why couldn't *you* be my instructor?
Date: 2004-06-30 02:50 pm (UTC)Overall, what happens is that I start with the kicking, and I either position my legs incorrectly during the movement (propelling myself downward, not forward), or I start with the sinking of the legs, and the forward kicking is automatically negated by the downward movement. I figure if I can use a float tube to help with the staying above water bit, I can work on the kicking more effectively. But I was soundly denied by my instructor, the fuckin' Swim Nazi. Ah, she means well, but she isn't terribly helpful when it comes to showing you what you're doing wrong mechanically.
And I'd so come visit you guys when you relocate back to North America. Funds allowing, of course. I'd bring some Sam Adams and DDRMax2. Par-tay! *grin*
Re: Jeez, why couldn't *you* be my instructor?
Date: 2004-07-06 04:20 pm (UTC)When I get settled, we'll have to arrange something.
About floating. You'll never learn to float.... it's all about muscle-fat body composition. There are tricks you can learn to reorient your body as you sink (you push everything back up, basically).
I suggest you find the time to lie on your back in the pool and learn to relax. Yup. Close your eyes and figure the whole, "How long can I stay on the surface, and what do I do to keep myself there."
This is what kids do naturally when they are slowing down from being hyperactive in the water. Of course, as an adult, you stand up and stop. Kids never stop (notice that, eh?). So you should do it at the beginning of a swim practice.
The other thing to do is realize that kids learn to kick on their backs. Float --> Kicking on your back --> to swimming on your back. That's because the dog paddle is instinctive (yeah, even for you). To take their mind off the need to keep your face from being too wet, kicking on your back allows you some focus.
I don't know how your lessons are going, but I hope you are still trying. Learning to swim is a highly useful thing.
OH! Also, learning to swim is more fitness-effective than knowing how to swim. You spend more energy when you don't know how to swim and you swim. When you know how to swim and you swim you'll spend less energy. That's because swimming is all about streamlining and becoming efficient in the water.
Think about toddlers learning to walk -- they always fall down and get tired in a short while. Same effect.