Once you’re a swimmer, you’re always a swimmer
Published 10:38 am Thursday, July 7, 2016
Wendesday morning I went to City Pool, to conduct interviews and shoot photos for an upcoming story on the Vicksburg Swim Association.
It was 6 a.m. It was overcast, and a few raindrops were falling. Some insects from the previous evening had gone to a watery grave in the outdoor pool’s chlorinated depths.
The scent of chlorine was in the air, and as I breathed it in I was reminded once again how much I love swimming — the grueling, lap-after-lap kind. Not the fun, splashy-splashy kind.
I haven’t been in a pool in three years. After a brief stint on the southern masters circuit, an increased workload at the office, schedule conflicts and general burnout caused me to take what has turned into an extended break.
Swimming, though, gets in your blood. One mantra of the sport is that it’s one you can do your whole life, and it’s true. You never stop being a swimmer.
When I joined my high school swim team 25 years ago, I had no idea what I was getting into. Dog paddling one lap was about all I could muster. For some reason, though, the coach let me work at my own pace and didn’t cut me. A few weeks later, I managed to finish a 500-meter swim — our basic warm-up every day — and by the end of my senior year I was an above-average sprinter.
Sixteen years later, as an expanding waistline started to mock me on a daily basis, it was time to return to the pool. The same process repeated itself. It took a couple of weeks to get back in shape, and then it was time to turn and burn. I still got smoked by faster swimmers at meets, but I hardly embarrassed myself.
Swimming is easy on the joints and a great overall workout. More than that, it’s a great mental workout. Time in the pool is time without a cellphone or a computer. It’s an hour or two away from the world, where you have time to ponder deep philosophical questions or simply dial in and push yourself to places you didn’t think you could go. It’s blissful solitude, even when you’re working out with friends and teammates. It’s competition against yourself and the clock.
The smell of chlorine gets in your skin, and it’s as sweet as perfume.
My waistline is growing again. Maybe it’s time to get back in the pool. I surely do miss it.
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Ernest Bowker is a sports writer for The Vicksburg Post. He can be reached at ernest.bowker@vicksburgpost.com