Pool Play

This morning I dropped the kids off at the pool.

Just like I do every morning.

The community pool that is.

I'm very regular.

My kids are part of a local program where they swim.

Every weekday morning.

For an hour.

It gives my kids some exercise.

It gives my wife and I.

A break.

My youngest child, the seven-year old girl, has been swimming since she was one.

But she's been swimming without those cute adorable floaties for far less time than that.

In fact, signing her up for the swim team was quite a bold move.

The first day of practice she had some serious concerns.

"Do you think I will be the worst one out there?"

She asked me.

Now that set up one of those parental moments.

A moment when you better do a very quick search of your cranial hard drive for the perfect answer.

The clock is ticking.

One one thousand.

Two one thousand.

Bingo.

"Come on," I said.

With an encouraging voice.

"There's as much of a chance of you being the worst one out there as there is of you being the best one out there."

Ok -- Tony Robbins I am not.

But I had to say something.

And quick.

But did it work?

*** Pause ***

Cutaway of my daughter.... smiling.

Wow.

I guess I got that one right.

The eavesdropper dad next to me agreed.

"Good answer," the stranger said.

Patting me on the shoulder.   

Unfortunately it took me three kids to figure out how to answer that question.

But my answer seemed to work.

This time.

And this time it got my daughter into the pool.

But from the start she was quite defiant.

Not listening to a word the coach said.

“Elizabeth you are next.”

Nothing.

“Elizabeth, start swimming.”

Nothing.

“ELIZABETH, GET GOING!”

I could see the coach was getting frustrated.

But what my daughter and I didn’t realize.

Is that he was calling for her.

You see her name is not Elizabeth.

Oh, maybe that’s why she wasn’t listening.

Well, eventually he got the message.

And everyone got a laugh.

Moments later she started swimming.

Um- -- tried swimming.

Out of the nine or so kids in her group.

She ranked 17th.

You could say some of it was a skill deficiency.

But most of it was a lack of confidence.

Fortunately they had an unpaid volunteer local high school teenage swimmer in the pool with her the entire time.

So what could possibly go wrong.

The good news is she’s gone back every morning.

With only a small helping of kicking and screaming.

But there was a carrot dangling at the end of lane 7.

That carrot was the fact that this team of ours competes in swim meets.

Every weekend.

Now we made it clear from the beginning that we were not looking for her to be the next Michaela Phelps.

But if she could learn how to do laps on her own.

That would be the victory.

Well after a few weeks of practice, she had met that challenge.

And the coaches noticed.

And they determined it was time for another challenge.

An actual swim meet.

Against other real swimmers.

So they taught her how to dive in from the board.

Ok, fall in.

And they taught her how to swim freestyle.

Or some kind of style.

But the bottom line is she did it.

Not me.

Not the unpaid volunteer.

Not Elizabeth.

Her.

And she made it through the entire race.

On her own.

Sure, she finished last.

But as my wife put it.

“She was almost second to last.”

Hey, let’s not aim to high.

It’s a long season.