Eight Months Later...

California’s teetering on the verge of a drought and we concerned citizens of this beautiful but rain starved state have been trying very hard to conserve our water. It hasn’t become the major chore of a little over thirty years ago when I encountered bricks in cisterns and charming little signs posted in bathrooms instructing the user "if it’s yellow, let it mellow; if it’s brown, flush it down". Ah yes, words to live by in the late seventies. No, things aren’t quite so serious yet but even in the best of times when rain has been abundant and water is everywhere, it is everyone’s duty to conserve our precious water. It’s been a wet summer for me, however, both in and out of water.

This has been a swimming summer for me. My husband and I are always trying to keep our hands in getting some kind of exercise. It ain’t easy! Over our many years together, we’ve run, walked, biked and swum (yes, that really is a proper past tense for swim–I looked it up. Looks funny, doesn’t it?) I am not an athletic type and the best part of exercise is when it’s over. I hated running, walking’s nice but my husband’s knees can’t take it anymore, bicycling is great if there are no cars around (knocking bikers off the road is becoming something of a sport these days). I’ve never been a huge fan of swimming but this year has been different.

Each year I have to relearn swimming. Swimming is one of those skills that supposedly once learned, is easy to pick right back up after a long absence. Riding a bike, typing and sex also fall into that category, I believe. I’ve never found it so with swimming. Perhaps that’s because I’m not such a hot swimmer to begin with. Like so many things in my life, I learned (sort of) to swim when I was around 8 or 9. Much too late. A lady friend of my mother’s took me to the local lake one summer and under her patient tutelage, I managed to learn how to tread water, float on my back and swim a few pathetic strokes for a short distance. I recall that this very kind woman actually had to bribe me with money to get me to put my head under water. When I think back on the cesspool of a lake we were in, I wouldn’t put my head under or my body in that water for vast sums of money if offered the same deal today. But ignorance is bliss and it never occurred to me what might be lurking in that nasty lake as I was splashing around in it.

Fast forward to shortly after my wedding day. We moved to a nice apartment complex close to our jobs and use of a good-sized swimming pool was one of the perks. Now, you know what happens to a lot of folks followingtheir wedding day when they’re head over heels in love with each other, the world in general and are extremely happy. Love and happiness ofter equals food. Lots of it! Alas, we were no exception. It didn’t help that directly across from our apartment was Louie’s Bakery and it turned out that Louie made the best damn donuts and pastries on the planet. Every Sunday morning my sweetie and I and a box filled with a dozen of Louie’s donuts would snuggle up for a nice long visit. There never were any left by lunchtime. Shocking! This was the grand life but we both tend to run to fat very quickly and this habit plumped us up in no time. There we were, plump little partridges (but very happy) in drastic need of exercise with a pool across from our apartment in the opposite direction. Strangely enough, there were never many, if any, people in it after dinner.

Time to make use of the pool, go on a diet and get rid of some flab. We each drank a Carnation Instant Breakfast and a One-A-Day vitamin pill for breakfast. I don’t recall eating lunch but we both lived close to work and these were back in the good old days when lunch hour was an hour and we used to meet at home to, ah, visit. Dinner was one skinned, broiled chicken breast each and salad. Our exercise was swimming laps. I got into the pool and proceeded to do my thing. "What are you doing?" asked my husband. "Swimming", I replied sweetly. My second round of swim lessons began right there and then. Of course, my husband was a great swimmer, had done the Red Cross thing, been a lifeguard, etc. so he did know a thing or two about swimming. By the time our first married summer was over I could swim passably well. Iwas taught to actually kick my legs properly and not scissor kick and find a nice rhythm by humming The Blue Danube to myself as I was gliding along. It worked but to this day, I have to start with the basics and it takes almost the entire summer to get it right once more.

This was our first foray into exercise and healthy living and we’ve been trying to stick with it for the past 33 years. Oh, there’ve been lapses of course but we always come back to some sort of program to keep the fat at bay. My husband gets all the credit for his tenacity to begin and stick with the program over and over again. Kudos to him because he always has to push me along into joining him and I always feel better and grateful once it’s over.

This past summer we’ve been swimming laps at the city pool on a regular basis. My husband goes every Saturday and Sunday morning; I go every other on the weekends I don’t work. We both go twice a week after work. The water has felt wonderfully refreshing after a long, hot day at work and while our swimming regimen hasn’t given us bodies beautiful, it has worked to tone things up quite a bit. Being overly warm more often than not these days, I’ve found myself looking forward to gliding through the water once the workday is over. I know my technique has improved somewhat because these days my husband tells me I look like something that belongs in the water and not something that’s been thrown in. Ah, high praise from he who really taught me to swim!