Time to Panic

Which mixed-up (but well-intentioned) person wrote a blog post about how she's scared of the water and needs to overcome that fear? Who made learning to swim her New Year's Resolution? Who asked her blogging friends to support her in that goal?

This crazy girl.

I may be reconsidering the wisdom of that - the resolution and posting it to my blog. Seriously reconsidering.

Why?

My first lesson is tomorrow.

TOMORROW!

Last week, I visited a local gym that offers adult swimming lessons. I toured the gym and checked out the swimming pools. I felt fine. No fear, no panic. Nothing. After all, overcoming your biggest fear sounds smart in theory. Just like asking your blogging friends to hold you accountable sounds mature in theory.

My future swimming instructor sounded pretty great too - in theory.

Back to the gym tour...my conversation with the aquatics director (AD) went something like this:

Me: "Do you offer swimming lessons for adults?"
AD: "Yes. Are you interested in a class or private lessons?"

(Do I really need to humiliate myself in a class? I think not.)

Me: "Private lessons."
AD: "Are you training for a triathlon? We have a great instructor who teaches techniques for triathlon swimming. She's got excellent form."
Me: "That might be a little advanced for me."

(And I just won Understatement of the Year.)

Me: "I probably need to learn to swim first."
AD: "Oh." Long pause. "How comfortable are you with being underwater?"

(Hmm. Let's see. On a scale of one to ten, with 1 being uncomfortable and ten being comfortable? I'd be a zero.)

Me: "I'm not comfortable being underwater."
AD: "Then I have the perfect instructor for you. She works really well with people of your experience level. I'll have her call you to talk more about your goals."

Great. I like talking about my goals. And thinking about them. And ruminating, discussing, or focusing on them. (Anything but doing, really.) Besides, I could picture this  "beginner's" swimming instructor as a kind, patient person. Someone who helps the struggling non-swimmers. Kinda like a kindergarten teacher for swimming.

She'd be perfect! I wasn't worried; I just waited for her call, so we could talk about my goals.

That call came today, and my conversation with the swimming instructor (SI) wasn't exactly what I expected. Instead, it went something like this:

SI: "This is Linda from the gym. Am I speaking with Denise?"
Me: "Yes, hi. It's good to talk to you."
SI: "You're interested in swimming, right? I can schedule you for tomorrow."
Me: "Oh, um...great. Let me check my calendar."

(Tomorrow is really soon. Can't we talk about my goals first? Darn it. I'm free. Why can't I have a root canal or a pap smear or something fun scheduled for tomorrow?)

Me: "Yeah...I, uh...can do that."
SI: "Do you have a swimsuit?"
Me: "Yes, I do."
SI: "Wear it."

(Hmm. She sounded unusually direct for such a sweet person.)

SI: "How about goggles?"
Me: "I don't have those."
SI: "Well, get some."
Me: "Oh, okay."
SI: "And not those cheap two-dollar kind from the Dollar Store either. Get some that fit tightly against your face to keep water out. Like Speedo."

(Is now be the time to point out that goggles from the Dollar Store would only cost a dollar? No, I didn't think so.)

SI: "Your hair can't be getting in the way all the time, either. You need clips or a cap to keep it out of your face. Understand?"
Me: "Yes."

(Swimsuit...check. Quality goggles...check. Hair holder...check. Should I ask about arm floaties?)

SI: "That's all I can think of for now. Bye."
Me: "Okay. Bye."

Oh, man. Tomorrow, I'm meeting my drill-sargeant-turned-swimming-instructor for my first swimming lesson as an adult. I've moved out of theory and into reality.

It's officially time to panic.