Skip to main content

Back to Basics - in the pool

The swimming lesson I attended this afternoon took me right back to basics, on my back.  In breaking down my 'technique', I was able to feel, immediately, how much more difficult I have been making it for myself.  

I swim, firstly, to relax.  This afternoon, I learnt how much tension I take with me into the pool.  I carry it (like most people, I was reassured to be told) in my neck and, as a direct consequence, swimming has become (I now realise) something of a battle, whether I'm swimming on my front, or my back.


There is something different about re-learning backstroke:  it highlights the bad habits I have gotten into very clearly.  You cannot help but notice when you're head is submerged, and you're gulping pool water.

The mis-alignment is particularly pronounced when you're on your back, meaning that I came away from the 3.5 hour workshop with some key learning points I will be packing to take with me down to the pool tomorrow.  

In some ways, I envied the lady in the lane next door to mine, who had very little swimming experience.  She hasn't fallen foul of the desire to run before one can toddle, let alone walk, and was mastering the basics beautifully and with a lot less mental effort than my own re-education involved.  

I got out of the pool feeling pleased to have actually felt the difference between my own idiosyncratic 'style' prior to this afternoon's class, and the recommendations my brilliant teacher Maciek had so patiently highlighted, with the help of his phone and the video footage he had used to show me, in slow-motion, exactly what I was doing.  

Tell me, and I'll forget.  
Teach me, and I may remember.  
Show me, and I'll learn.  

This is my homework...




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Table. Apple. Penny.

Whilst there were several places I might have been that morning, I wouldn't have been anywhere else.  The practitioner from the Memory Service arrived promptly.  I liked her instantly.    Mum was nervous.  I think I was a little, too.  It's been a difficult year.   "It's Friday, it's the fourteenth of December and I'm at home..."   No problems there.  CAMCOG, or the Cambridge Cognitive Examination is a thorough assessment tool used to assess the extent of extent of dementia, and to assess the level of cognitive impairment.  The standardised  measure assesses orientation, language, memory, praxis, attention, abstract thinking, perception and calculation.    "Table.  Apple.  Penny."   Three everyday items that were introduced at one point, and then referred to again later on.  Again, Mum was able to recall each.      I am reminded that the...

Glass half full? Glass half empty? Or perhaps the glass is broken

I am, constitutionally, a glass half empty gal.  I will always first acknowledge what I don't have, what I have lost, and what it is that I am seeking.  I tend to overlook my strengths, concentrating only on those bits of me that are underdeveloped or weak.  I refer to myself as a realist, but in doing so compliment myself and insult those who genuinely are simply realistic.  My modus operandi is to identify what's not working and acknowledge this before seeing more clearly what functions perfectly well.  This has its place: I edit others' written work pretty well.  My fastidious attention to detail serves me, and the author.  Accuracy counts, for me and I have an excellent memory.  I can remember a great many of my sessions with clients verbatim.  Even this asset is something I can, and do, diminish the true value of, by concentrating on 'I should have said...' or 'why didn't....  occur to me during the session?' Earlier this we...

Pausing in the sunshine

And so, chemo is over.  My best friend's diary has been chocker...  Line cleans, blood tests, scans and 18 weekly doses of the gruelling treatment itself.  Summer seems at last to have arrived and with it, we hope, some time, peace and space. She is, we acknowledged over a rather yummy luncheon served to us beneath the beautiful canopy of creepers and climbers at Petersham Nurseries, an inspiration. A small group of us gathered to celebrate her forthcoming marriage.  The sun's rays joined the warmth we all have for this very special woman.  Warmth and, in my case at least, pride. It is the greatest privilege to call this woman my best friend.  She continues to epitomise my understanding of grace.  Our bodies are fragile things.  Our minds are frailer still.  In her composure and wisdom, she possesses an outlook I can only aspire to adopt.  From you, dear Charlotte, I learn and I learn and I learn.   The ...