Treading Water

This is the time of year when I am beginning to tire of endless winter, and start looking forward to warmer weather and spending time in the water at the cottage.

I love to tread water for a number of reasons; I can look around and appreciate my surroundings, rather than having my face submerged as I concentrate on pushing forward; it gives me a chance to catch my breath after a few lengths of strenuous effort; I can chat with family and friends as we float and paddle together at the cottage; it reminds me that I can keep myself afloat in case of a boating mishap... and best of all, it keeps my feet out of the seaweed on the bottom of the lake!

When I was about ten or eleven years old, I went to Girl Guide camp at Lake Wa-Thik-Ane in Morin Heights for a week. Waterfront safety rules were pretty strict; you had to pass a swimming test and earn a coloured bracelet showing just how deep you were allowed to go during the swim period.

We had to swim a certain number of lengths back and forth between the docks and then tread water for a specified length of time. I started off fairly confidently; at that point, I had probably been swimming at least half my life, visiting family cottages near lakes and oceans and taking regular swimming lessons at the local indoor pool.

But halfway through my lengths that day, I caught a wave in the face during an inward breath and panicked. I sputtered to the dock and hung on for dear life. I dog-paddled to the ladder and climbed out. It seems to me that since I hadn't completed my lengths, the time requirement for treading water was also cut in half... and I was fine with that. I think I was embarassed by that point, and just wanted to get it over with; I didn't want to draw any more attention to myself. How ridiculous to imagine myself a mermaid if I couldn't swim...

So over the next few days, while everyone else was gleefully jumping off the end of the dock into the deep water, one other girl and I paddled and waded within the roped-off limits of the shallow zone. My mother (who was one of the Girl Guide leaders and who had been a camp counsellor for many years as a teenager) tried to persuade me to take the test again. I stubbornly refused, day after day.

But early in the morning on one of the last days of camp, without much fanfare or audience, we went down the water and I tried again... and succeeded! It was too late to enjoy many of the benefits, other than the most important one... knowing that I could do it.

Thanks, Mom.