Am I An Athlete?

Last week, Kirk, my swim coach, pulled me aside after a lesson and told me, “Jean, in all honesty, I have to tell you something.”

Oh oh. My butterfly stroke had not improved enough? My turns were awful? My split times were slowing down?

He said, “If you’re still swimming at this level in 4 years, you’ll be ranked in the top ten nationally.”

Whoa. BIG whoa. Top ten nationally in the 100-yard individual medley? 71-year-old me?

I’ve been swimming since before I can remember. I’m guessing my father, who loved the water, had me in the water with him before he died when I was four. I do know that when my mother and I moved to Indiana, at age eight, she signed me up for Beginner swim lessons at the local pool, only to be told by the instructor that I already knew how to swim. “No, she doesn’t,” she said. He responded, “Jean, swim across the pool.” Which I did. She signed me up for Intermediate lessons instead.

There were no girl athletes in my little town. We didn’t grow up with Title IX. In my little town, if you were a girl, you could play volleyball on Tuesday nights. Or kickpin and girls’ basketball once a week in gym class. And of course, swimming at the local pool in the summers. Where the boys called me “Albino” and “Snow White with the Two Dwarfs.” Once my boobs grew in, at least I didn’t have to hear that last one any more.

As an adult, every chance I have to get in the water I’m there. Hotel pools. The Pacific Ocean, on our trips to Hawaii. Lake Michigan, on the rare occasions it’s warm enough. I swam for exercise in my 30’s because I was doing a job for a client located in a building in Des Plaines that had a pool. A small one – I had to swim 140 laps for a mile – but I loved it. I was very sorry when I finished that job!

When my husband and I were condo shopping 10 years ago, a building with a pool was not at the top of my list, but I changed my mind very quickly once I saw the pool in the building I live in now. Even though our condo was under renovation, I parked and swam in the building 2-3 times a week, and kept it up after we moved in. I was up to 20-22 laps, but I was getting bored. Scenery never changes much in a pool. Has anyone seen the movie “Tick Tick Boom?” In that film, Jonathan Larsen, the musical genius who died young but created “Rent” before he did, swam at the Y, and visualized musical notes appearing on the lines at the bottom of his pool, just like notes on a staff. Note to all other lyricists out there: Don’t try writing lyrics while swimming. I’ve tried it. Water in the mouth every time. Jonathan Larson I’m not.

I’d met several swimmers in the building, and was referred to a swim coach who occasionally gave lessons here. Kurt Zeimke is a former world level swimmer with the body of a god and the sweetness of your favorite grandpa. In no time, I’d learned bilateral breathing (better for the neck) and flip turns. I love flip turns. Kirk told me most students over 40 couldn’t learn the flip turn in one lesson, so of course I had to prove him wrong. Over the next year I relearned the breaststroke, and learned the backstroke for the first time as well.

I was fascinated by the individual medley events, where one swimmer does a lap or so with each of four strokes: butterfly, backstroke, breaststroke, and free style (in that order.) I’d learned the new strokes just so I didn’t have to swim boring free style all the time, but now I wanted more. I wanted the butterfly. After all, I’ve been weightlifting for 40 years, so I knew I was strong enough. Why have all that upper body strength and not use it? I took my courage in my hands (and feet) and asked Kirk to teach me the butterfly. If I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t. World wouldn’t end, and at least I would have tried.

By this time Kirk knew better than to tell me how many lessons it would take. I was sort of able to butterfly after one lesson, but OK, it really took two. The kick was very different. They call it the dolphin kick, but it’s more like twerking on your stomach. In the water. Getting the rhythm of the kick and breathing at the same time is a challenge. But my arms butterflied like they were born for it.

The current plan is to try out my medley at an adult master’s event this fall. Kirk says my current time would put me in the top 40 or 50 nationally – 30 if I have a good day. Hey, that’s more than enough satisfaction for me. I just love to swim medleys!

But in case you’re wondering…why does Kirk want me swimming for another four years?

Well, by then I’ll be in the 75-79 age group, and there will be even less competition in this event than there is now. You see, the only way you go up in the national rankings, at my age, is for other people your age to die or give up. Apparently, there is a big drop-off after 75.

And why does Kirk think I’m such a star performer? He says it’s my athleticism and my aggressiveness. OK, I’ll take aggressive, but athleticism? Is he saying that I’m an athlete?

All I’m doing is working out five days a week. Which is something I’ve done for over 40 years. Only now everyone’s impressed. Maybe I’ll be impressed too, once I have that first event in my rear view. Maybe I’ll even call myself an athlete. Hope there’s room to add that on my business card.