Learning To Swim As An Adult: Why The Second Lesson Was So Hard

** I wrote this after my second swim lesson last summer and didn’t get around to posting it. Even though some time has passed, this day was such an important part of my journey that I still wanted to share it. **

My second swim lesson was incredibly humbling and much harder than I expected. Even though I showed up feeling slightly more prepared, with a swim cap that finally fit all of my braids and goggles that actually worked, I wasn’t prepared for how difficult the lesson would be.

You can read about my experience during my first swim lesson here.

We started at the shallow end of the pool, and my swim instructor asked me to hold onto the wall, lift myself up, and kick. It sounded simple. But the second I tried, I realized just how hard it was. Holding myself up was a challenge on its own. Even when I managed it for a few seconds, my legs would sink as soon as I started kicking, and I couldn’t get them to stay up no matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t believe it.

She asked if I wanted to try using a noodle for more support. I did, and it helped some, but I still couldn’t get my legs to stop sinking when I kicked.

Eventually, I started feeling it all in my back, and it started to hurt. For me, that’s a red flag. I have a back injury, and anytime it starts really hurting when trying something, I get scared.

The Overwhelming Feeling Of Embarrassment

Just as I was starting to get it, a man walked up in a very aggressive way to the lifeguard who was near me and asked why in the world two out of the eight swim lanes were being used for swim lessons. He thought that swim lessons should only take up one lane and the other lanes should be used for lap swimming. Despite the fact that I was paying for private lessons and the other lane was filled with kids (very little kids) in a group swim lesson, he wanted me to be with the children. That was humiliating.

The lifeguard explained that he could share a lane with another swimmer, but he didn’t care. He stormed off, busted into the locker room door, and left altogether.

After that, it took everything in me to regain composure. I was already embarrassed, and now I was hyper-aware of people around me watching me struggle, not just emotionally, but physically too.

Pushing Through The Embarrassment

Taking swim lessons as an adult, with not only adult swimmers around you, but children, even toddlers learning to swim, is hard enough.

I had to fight through the voice in my head telling me to quit. I knew I couldn’t allow someone else’s bad attitude and my own embarrassment to keep me from taking a step toward my goal of learning to swim.

I kept going.

My swim instructor wanted me to try letting go of the wall and just start kicking. While I didn’t feel ready, I tried, but I couldn’t do it.

Next she handed me a kickboard to help. Even with a kickboard, I couldn’t get both legs off the ground. My mind wouldn’t allow it. I was afraid of sinking. On top of that, I couldn’t figure out how to coordinate taking both of my legs off the pool floor while holding onto the kickboard in front of me.

She then asked one of the lifeguards, who wasn’t on post, to bring me some fins. She thought they might help me hold myself up and kick better, but they only made things worse.

Having To Figure Things Out Myself

One thing that made this lesson especially hard was that, as an adult, there’s a limit to how much physical assistance you can be given. I even asked my instructor how she would teach a child to do what she was trying to get me to do, and the answer was always some kind of hands-on support. But as a fully grown woman, and in a heavier body, the same kind of help just wasn’t possible. She was used to working with kids, and I don’t fault her for that, but it meant I had to figure things out mostly on my own, even when I was struggling. That made an already challenging experience feel even harder.

Eventually, she had me start practicing placing my feet on the wall and learning how to push off with the board. After several tries, I was at least able to get my feet on the wall. I didn’t push off, but I was able to get onto the wall briefly. That felt like something. Not what I was aiming for, but something.

One Step At A Time

I was frustrated with myself for most of the lesson. But I never quit. I kept trying, even when I felt like the clock was rolling and I wasn’t making any progress.

Afterward, while I was sitting down and drying off, a mom I’d seen before was a couple of chairs over from me. Her kids were in the children’s group lesson, and she asked me how it was taking swim lessons. I told her it was hard, especially as an adult. She smiled and said she could see that, because adults aren’t as excited as kids. I told her I wanted to learn, but it was hard. She agreed that fear can definitely play a role. I agreed, and she said, “One step at a time.” I told her, “It’s what I tell my daughter, so it’s what I have to believe too.” We both laughed, and then she packed up to leave.

Not Giving Up

Lesson two was full of frustration. Honestly, I’m not feeling great knowing that I struggled with the most basic skills in swimming. If I can’t do basic things like holding myself up and kicking, how will I ever be able to swim?

But I also know that even though it’s hard, I CAN learn, and I WILL learn, as long as I don’t give up.

The first two lessons are just the beginning of my swim journey. I’m still nervous about what’s ahead. But I’m also hopeful, not just about what swimming can do for my health and weight loss journey, but for my confidence, my belief in myself, and my overall life.

I don’t know exactly how long it will take, but I know I’m committed to showing up, one week at a time. One lesson at a time.