My quest to float without a float

I am about 9 years old, and I am climbing the diving board along with other kids. One of the instructors nudges me and I fall into the water. It all happens very quickly. I survive, with a float. One fine day, I wander off in the pool and start drowning. An instructor saves me, points his hand at my back and tells his colleague, “Look, this kid was without a float.” I continue to go to some classes but I am not one of those super happy kids you see in the pool. In fact, I am the opposite. I make up uncreative excuses such as “My tummy hurts” to get out of lessons.

Some years later, I spend a few weeks with my relatives, and my aunt and uncle generously pay the one-off fee for several days at a hotel swimming pool in Santacruz, Mumbai (that too West, not East). It feels like a luxury. There are no floats available around this pool. So I improvise a technique of swimming - just hold your breath, vigorously flap your legs and arms, somehow move forward and come out for breath. Once you come out for breath, be so desperate that your legs forget to move and you come to a halt. In short, the panic-swimming technique.

Through my 20s and 30s, I go on several vacations when I swim near beaches extensively. But it’s always with a float. When I take scuba dives, I have to remind the instructors that I can’t swim. When I cliff jump for the first time, it is with a float. When I paddle board or swim in an alpine lake for the first time, it is so so amazing. Refreshing. Calming. But it is always with a float, a heavy orange reminder of my inability to swim.

At the tender age of 33, I decide to learn how to swim. Properly.

Like with learning anything new, the first days are exciting, and then I hit that deadly plateau. While my fellow learners start to complete laps, all I am left with are thought bubbles that I try to blow away. “Am I doing this micro action right?” is what I think continuously. And my swimming instructor was complicit in aiding this. “Loosen your legs. Don’t tighten. Only 2 breaths. Not 1. Tilt your head exactly at 89.9 degrees (fine, he didn’t use these exact words)”.

One fine day, another instructor pops in, and he says - just use your hips to propel forward. And voila, I am able to push myself forward like a torpedo. It clicks. I am elated.

A few weeks later I am back with the original instructor. I move forward but panic again because of his obsession with micro-steps. The doom loop has started. My legs start to drop again mid lap, not because I am out of breath, but because I am out of hope.

Next week, I do what I did as a child - I pretend I am sick and skip the lesson. But unlike the 10 year old version, this time, I don’t truly skip that lesson. I head out to another pool to practice on my own. Two things strike me - firstly, this is an aerobic activity, and I need to be a bit chill, a bit relaxed so that I can get my breaths in gently, like a whale. Secondly, I could use the help of a small float between my legs. To my surprise, I make a lot more progress than I have ever had in the last few months. I feel like I can trust the water again and breathe again. I also float for several seconds, as I am able to let go of some of the fear.

I was reminded of Mitchell from Modern Family. In an episode, he thinks he’s a great golf teacher. He tries to teach Gloria, but he truly sucks. He is so obsessed with getting the technique right that he forgets about the bigger picture. A bystander notices his failed efforts and steps in. He asks Gloria to forget everything Mitchell has taught her. He tells her that golf is a bit like a dance - she just needs to move her hips in one smooth motion. Gloria hits the ball, and loves the rush. She immediately fires Mitchell. Mitchell also gets fired by his daughter as she stumbles on the same truth - Mitchell is a terrible teacher, be it golf or flute. Meanwhile, Mitchell is left thinking that he is too smart to be a teacher - they just weren’t ready for his ultra smart instructions.

Well, I sort of did what Gloria did. I quietly enrolled myself off the class citing scheduling conflicts. I just hope my instructor never reads this post. If he does, it truly means I have increased my reach, which would not be a bad thing to celebrate.