Swimming

Swimming

It was always the same. Whatever sport she tried at school or even after school, she was a complete duffer, a total washout.

The other girls laughed at her. She was always the last one to be chosen for a team and usually ended up as a reserve. She tried her hand at tennis one year and played in a tournament against Jeanette, the most popular girl in the class. Jeanette was not really good at tennis but she had a way with her of pleasing people and being everyone’s friend. Ida was not good at anything. Her shyness prevented her from engaging with other people. Anyway she had entered for the tournament.

The tennis match was a disaster. Jeanette did not have to try very hard, she was the out and out winner. Ida did not win a single point in the match but even in her embarrassment  she played on to the end because if she had retired she would  have been seen to be a bad sport on top of it all.

One sport that attracted her above all was swimming. The images of swimmers  plowing  through the water in the swimming  galas, seemingly without effort, remained in her mind for hours afterwards. She wanted to be a swimmer beyond anything else.

She had tried to join the swimming training sessions but found it hard not to be afraid of the water. Terrified of putting her face in the water, Ida coughed and spluttered her way from one end of the pool to the other, frequently putting her feet down to touch the bottom of the pool.

“Ida, you are supposed to be horizontal  in the pool, not vertical,” the teacher would shout out for everyone to hear.  The other swimmers sniggered. The school team was chosen and Ida who was naturally left out, gravitated towards being an official instead. “Here” said the teacher one afternoon. “You can learn how to use a stop watch. The second the flame shows at the side and the whistle goes for the start of a race, you press the button  and get the stop watch going and the second the swimmer touches the wall at the end of the race, you press the button to stop the watch and write the time down on the paper which we will give to you”

 Ida got to know all the swimmers but only from the sidelines. She got to know all the different features of the swimming styles and watched with interest how some free style swimmers did unilateral breathing and others did bi-lateral breathing. Obviously the latter gave the swimmer extra speed. She became quite expert in the time keeping and learned  how to do splits.

Time keepers had to know all the FINA swimming rules which were necessary to see fair play. You learned a lot but still Ida did not learn to swim. Oh yes, she could keep afloat so as to prevent herself from drowning but the bright lights of competitive swimming eluded her.

Struggling a year later, in the swimming pool at the gymn,  Ida heard a voice from the next lane saying. “Would you like me to give you some coaching? I can see you are not enjoying being in the water . It is more than painful to watch you.”

Squinting through her goggles she saw a male swimmer with a smile on his face. “ I do not think I am  coaching material.” “ Of course you are, swimming is just a skill which you can acquire, like drawing for instance.” He was good looking with the strong shoulders of an athlete.

“ But I cannot afford to pay for coaching lessons, I can only just manage the gymn membership fees.”

“ Oh well, let us just say we can figure a way around that but I really would like to give you some help. I am a biokineticist  here and we are supposed to help members to some degree. I’ll tell you what, I can coach you in my off duty hours and we can talk about a reduced fee and the rest of your worries later. “See me in the pool tomorrow at 5.30am and don’t be late!”

What a cheek ordering her to the pool so early in the morning thought Ida but it was really an opportunity not to be missed. She would do it.

Next morning at 5.30 there was Peter waiting for her. She felt a shiver of nerves partly from fear of getting in the pool and partly from a feeling of anxiety in committing  herself  to a course of action not familiar to her.

“Ok, dive in and swim to the other side of the pool I will follow you along the edge.” “ But I can’t dive in I am terrified of diving, I may hit my head on the bottom of the pool.” “ Nonsense.  Dive!” “ I can’t” “Ok, here is a piece of foam to hold in both hands. Dive!”

Ida was not sure if she liked the commanding tone of his voice.

Ida took the foam rubber piece in her hands and standing on the pool edge, dived in. Her head did not hit the bottom. She tried to swim free style to the other end but faltered half way. “Swim!” said Peter. She swam, trying to breathe in between the strokes.

“ Ok, two more dives like that and you will discard the foam rubber”

There it was again, the aggressive tone of authority. He was really a very bossy person.

At the end of an hour, Ida was exhausted but had discarded the foam rubber for the racing dive and was doing this without injuring her stomach muscles in the process.” Well done. You are looking good in the water you seem to have a natural affinity to water.” He turned saying over his shoulder. “See you at 5.30am tomorrow”

At 5.30am Ida was ready at the pool side. Natural affinity to the water he had said. Was that not some kind of complimentary remark?  There he was, coming along with a towel around his shoulders almost flaunting his air of superiority.

“ Now , try swimming two lengths and after that we will improve your strokes and don’t forget to kick.”

Ida swam one length and stopped at the other end of the pool. “ What are you stopping for?” “ To breathe I am exhausted already. I can’t do this” “ What a lot of codswallop. It is all in the mind. Do two lengths now! And switch your mind off, or on, whichever suits you better. Put it in neutral” After the second morning Ida and Peter had proceeded into a relationship of master and pupil. He was a hard task master but she felt deep inside that everything he did was for her benefit. She wanted to slap him into the middle of the next week almost every session but had to keep her temper under control. His attitude made her feel rebellious most of the time.

Slowly Ida started putting into practice, what she had observed while serving as time keeper at the galas. She knew all the rules of the sport. Peter gave her written sessions for training that she had to carry out every day, twice a day, early morning and late afternoon. This meant she had to get enough sleep in order to keep up her fitness level, as well as keep on with her studies.

One afternoon when she was just finishing a session, Peter appeared and asked how things were going. “Fine, just fine, thank you but I think you are going over the top with the training. How far do you think I must go before I can relax?”

“ You are not going to relax.  I have entered your name for the trials in the Bellahøj Svømmehallen for Saturday. It is three stops from the Nørrebro  station. See you there at 11am. If you pass the trials you will then be entered for the Short Course event in the Royal Arena in November at the end of the year.

Peter was there, at Bellahøj.  “Go and kick ass” was  his last instruction to Ida.  Full of nerves, she waited for the signal to line up and then the whistle blew. She dived in and swam, her mind echoing Peters instructions over the past months . “Kick, kick, kick!” It was often with kicking that a race was won or lost. She kicked with all her strength. Reaching the finish she looked up at the times shown and could hardly believe that her time was the second fastest time of 18 seconds.

That meant she was in for the World short Course championships!

After the trials, Peter scolded her for not making better time. “You should have made it in under 18. Seconds. You are slacking off.”

“Jeg er smadret (smashed)” said Ida. I am tired of your bullying. I cannot take it any longer. I think I have to tell you to get lost. You have been unpleasant for weeks and I am sick and tired of you. I never want to see you again” Peter looking stunned, turned on his heel and walked away. Ida watched as he disappeared. What had she done?  She bit her lip. Should she run after him and apologise? No! No! No! She was not going to do that. She would do without him.

It took a lot of determination to carry on training without her coach. Now she had to train on her own without his guidance. She was so used to hearing his commands from the pool side that she felt completely lost for a few weeks.  Eventually she overcame the felling of abandonment. It was her own fault. Peter had been very generous and she should have accepted his controlling behaviour. Although she tried to justify to herself , her aggressive attack and the language she had used to Peter, she remembered with horror, the swear words she had used . Not words that you should say to your coach!  It was no wonder he had deserted her.

 A few months later Ida presented herself at the  Royal  Arena. She was part of the team Denmark. Feeling sad without Peter’s presence and his usual last minute instructions she tried to pull herself together. Looking up at the first row of spectators she saw his blonde head and red sweatshirt with the Danish flag across the front. He gave her an enigmatic look without acknowledging her presence.

Ida lined up with the other contestants . This was a moment she had dreamed of since school days.

 The whistle blew and she was in the water . The short course final of 400 metres was 16 lengths . Ida tried to conserve her energy early in the race but wanted to be out in front of the other swimmers even by a few inches. She tried to remember all Peter’s commands while he was her coach.  There was one swimmer in front of her, she could see her out of the corner of her eye when she took a breath.

After 10  lengths she could feel her muscles starting to complain.  She might be  reaching her lactate threshold, which would mean losing out. Could she do another 6 lengths. Peter had said to her that the mind plays an important part when competing. She calmed her mind and concentrated on her arms and legs.

At the penultimate turn the officials rang a bell at the pool edge to warn the participants that they had only one more lap to go. You lose count sometimes in the stress of the moment. She put in an extra spurt of energy and reached the wall at the finish. Looking up she noticed that the Danish spectators had risen to their feet and were applauding in a way that only the Danes know how.

She had won. This was joy! But it was completely spoiled for her because Peter was not beside her.

After changing she went along with the other swimmers to prepare for going on the podium . It was a hollow victory. Then she saw Peter standing at the side of the exit to the change rooms. He gave her a thumbs up. Walking over she said.” Peter I am so sorry I was so beastly, can you ever forgive me?” Smiling Peter said , “ I am about to ask a  gold medallist to be my girlfriend and take her out  to celebrate. Let us hope you put into our friendship the same amount of dedication as you have put into your swimming.”