I believe I can swim reasonably well; I won't win any prizes for it but I can propel myself through the water doing front crawl well enough to complete 500m or more in a reasonable time.
As a kid I lived by the sea and from an early age I was encouraged to enjoy the water. My father, a man who romanticised about the American wild west, one day threw me into the water to see if I'd survive. Evidently, I did.
Having passed that first test, aged eight, he enrolled me at the local pool for swimming lessons. An arse-backwards way of going about things but that was one of my Dad's endearing quirks. I can't say I enjoyed the lessons but they served their purpose; I learned the rudimentaries of front crawl, back stroke, breast stroke and even butterfly. I'm no expert but I understand the basics.
However, the one thing I am totally flummoxed by is turning. I have no understanding of how to do this and no memory of ever being taught how to do it. Consequently, my turns are not the most elegant, efficient or speedy of manoeuvres.
Tonight I got to the pool later than usual and it was fairly quiet. I seized the opportunity and I attempted a few flip turns. This resulted in a lot of coughing and spluttering, much disorientation and plenty of red faced embarrassment. I hope to God that no-one saw the mess I made; like a harpooned whale thrashing out its final moments.
This is how it's supposed to be done.
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