I Thought I Was Old!
Taking an aerobic swim class can be fun.
I thought I am too old. I am sixty-five (or I was when I wrote this; I am now seventy-three). To top it off, I am on a short lease so-to-speak: The oxygen tube line only lets me go so far in the water. That is okay. But when there is a current (and there always is with everyone stirring up the water to do the exercises), I seem to drift, making the work effort and the struggle to get back into a safe place and keep from dragging the tank into the water with me all the harder.
Most say the safest place for me is on the side lines. But I disagree. I never (at least not yet) pull the tank in with me. Although the tank was christened, I didn’t do it. Take my word for it, it doesn’t float! It is heavy. It sinks to the bottom of the pool immediately.
Bubbles come popping up to the surface. No, I didn’t fart! The tank did! There is a leak in the hose the day it joins me in the deep-end of the pool. It is quite funny.
The person who pulls it in will never forget, especially since everyone keeps reminding her to keep her eyes open and stay clear of the (invisible) line. Two young men come to the rescue, pulling the tank from the water and setting it back on the edge. It is a lot harder getting the tank out of the pool then it is getting it in!
Anyways, the instructor is 76 (then). I have difficulty keeping up with her, but at least I am trying.
She does this for a living. My daughter who goes swimming with me says she gets a real work out. She is amazed what this woman does, not just the hour that we are there but also the hours of classes she teaches daily. She isn’t on the side lines telling those in the water what and how to do it; she is in the pool doing it too.
I wish I still had the shape and stamina I did when I wore this “Yellow poke-a-dot bikini.”
It brings back the memories of those good old days.