Yoga. Zumba. Papers. Assignments. Readings. Midterms. Work. Friends. The list of commitments that I have as a collegiette is a pretty lengthy one at the best times. At this point in the term, as everything starts to near their deadlines, I usually start substituting coffee for sleep… And this marks the beginning of the steady decline of mental health towards near nervous breakdown I’m seemingly obligated to suffer every semester. With two weeks to go, I am finding my savasana less and less relaxing as it is invaded by thoughts of the never-ending work that awaits me when I rejoin the world. The exercises I started at the beginning of the semester in an effort to get in better shape are now the best parts of my day. They’re the only reprieve from the stress of my academic course load, with nothing else being more relaxing than letting out all my frustrations in the UBC pool.
First, let me just say this: the women’s locker room is an intimidating space. Everyone here is so okay with nudity – they just do their changing thing without any hesitation whatsoever. In fact, I’m more embarrassed about the fact that I’m embarrassed for the other women to see me naked, than I actually am about being naked. Weird. Anyway, I change as quickly as possible and take my two-second shower (if you get your hair wet it totally counts, right?) before heading out onto the deck.
A quick survey of the agile swimmers in the moderate and fast lap lanes reaffirms which lane I need to be in. I grab a flutter board and stand at the end of the slow lane, watching the amateurs such as myself, but on average, 40-50 years older than me. Waiting for a gap, I dip my toes in and gird myself for the shock of the water. Finally, there’s a big enough space that I can slip in and kick off.
I swim front crawl for a while, willing myself to keep my head in the water for more than two strokes. For whatever reason, I always feel like I’m going to drown for the first couple passes. Like I have to remind myself that a) I do actually know how to swim and b) all the lifeguards patrolling the deck are probably not going to let me die.
I get to pass a couple of the other swimmers, which gives me a nice little confidence boost (even though they’re probably about sixty and will most likely be passing me later when I start to get tired). After a few passes of front crawl, I start changing up my passes. I get passed a lot when I do flutter kick, but the little old ladies always seem to smile at me kindly as they blast by me.
After I get into my rhythm, I stop thinking about the essay I have to write, or what my French midterm mark is going to be when I get it back tomorrow. I even stop thinking about whether the guy who got stuck behind me like two passes ago is pissed or not. I just think about the strokes, and the whooshing of the water as I glide easily through it
I look at the clock and thirty minutes have passed so I swim couple easy laps of backstroke for cool down before climbing ungracefully back onto the pool deck. I know that another awkward change probably awaits me in the changing room, but I don’t even care. I still have a little while before all the things come rushing back. Right now, I’m just going to feel good.
Stressed out? Give some exercise a try, collegiettes!
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