Crawling into a Rhythm
By Khadijia Tribié Reid
This is the feeling of being a champion. My heart is still racing from the rush as I dry off. I’ve done something amazing - something few people do. I walk taller. I feel strong. Even in a sweatshirt, I notice my newly slendered frame in the door reflection as I leave.
I have been swimming for one year now. Wait. That’s not exactly true. Let me clarify. I learned to swim at a community YMCA at six years old. I never stopped swimming. It’s always been one of my favorite things to do. During childhood, 30 minutes after my mom’s last “time to go” warning, I was still swimming.
Despite my mermaid tendencies, I never pursued swimming for regular exercise. It was fraught with issues. First of all, the hair. There was no way I would pay fifty dollars to get my hair perfectly coiffed to have it all washed away in the pool. Then, there was the location. Swimming requires access to a pool (which has not been my barrier,…so,…not a likely excuse). Ok. Truth. It’s all about the hair.
I’ve done lots of other workouts throughout my life: step aerobics, Zumba, running, walking, and yoga. I’ve enjoyed them all. Zumba and step aerobics fed my love for music and dancing; I looked forward to returning every week to get my groove on. Running was super efficient; I watched my tummy jiggle fall away. Walking gave me time to meditate and enjoy nature. But as I grew older, the jumping, jostling, and even long walks only ensured a night of sleepless aches awaited me. My body was strongly suggesting a new way to move.
I soon discovered that much of the aching was due to arthritis. Although I fancied myself way too young to court old Arthur, my body was saying something different. Perhaps I was predisposed to this unwelcome courtship - strong family history and a college era car accident that left my body bent and broken. Whatever the reason, an x-ray provided proof that arthritis was the source of my pain. I didn’t want the pain, so I committed to physical therapy which strengthened the muscles around the affected joints. I also reaffirmed my commitment to weight loss and fitness, which according to my research, could also decrease my symptoms.
Back in our dating years, my husband and I enjoyed lap swimming together. It was a highlight in our month. Lap swimming times were carefully coordinated around my pre hair appointment days once or twice a month. Now that fitness had become essential to my improved quality of life, I rededicated myself to swimming. I chose a time guaranteed to be free of interruptions - before the world awakens. I embraced the world of hair curl training videos and homemade concoctions. I released my hair preoccupations. I swam.
The first several months were hard. I panted at each edge. I choked constantly. And I’m sure I scared the lifeguard on more than one occasion. I received random advice from fellow swimmers.
“Keep your head in the water.”
“Straighten your legs.”
“Extend your arms.”
I grabbed every bit of advice thrown at me, like little life rafts. There were two pieces of advice that resonated most with me; swim often to get better and find your rhythm.
So, here I find myself, one year later, 150 swims in, and 2000 laps beyond that first swim. I can now swim several laps of the basic forward crawl without panting desperately for air. My retreats to the backstroke are less frequent. Beyond swimming, I have continued with physical therapy and stretching exercises several days a week. I am intentional - scheduling each swim 24 hours in advance and placing it on my calendar.
On this, my one year swimiversary, I feel great. My pain has decreased and no longer requires nightly Ibuprofen. I am thinner. Even on land, I am more fluid and sure footed. If I can do this, I can do anything. I’m finding my rhythm.
Author Bio
Khadijia Tribié Reid is a wife, mother and public health advocate. She practices Pediatrics in North Carolina where she engages in several community initiatives. She enjoys long walks, writing, Friday night pizza, and swimming.
Photo Credit: FangXiaNuo| istockphoto.com
