I don’t remember learning how to swim.  I just remember knowing how to swim.  And, doing it a whole lot as a kid and enjoying it.  I remember Saturday swim meets with the older kids leading us in cheers.  “Is this not the swimming pool?  Yes, this is the swimming pool!  Is this not the diving board?  Yes, this is the diving board!  Is this not the winning team?  Yes, this is the winning team!”  I was on the swim team in high school and I remember coming home from practices famished.  I would inhale my food, take a nap, and then get up to work on my homework until the wee hours, go to bed, and do it all over again.  But, when high school ended, so did my swimming career.  I wasn’t college swimming material and the thought never occurred to me to keep swimming.

Fast forward 31 years and a bad case of plantar fasciitis meant my main form of exercise, walking, was off the table. The doctor suggested swimming. It was February in New England, so swimming wasn’t top of mind, but after some logistics of signing up for a membership and buying goggles and a swim cap, I was ready to give it a try. The first time wasn’t pretty. I felt like I couldn’t breathe at times, but I still loved the feeling of gliding through the water and I needed the exercise. So, I kept going back and it got easier every time.

Now, it still takes me some encouragement to get myself there, but I’m rewarded every time by that singular feeling of gliding through the water. A feeling that could only lead to such contentment because of my experience swimming growing up. I recently called my mom to thank her for making me a swimmer and to let her know how much I get out of swimming, both physically and mentally.

So, like the Chinese proverb that reminds us what may seem a negative occurrence can become a positive depending on how you look at it – swimming allowed me to flip the script on my plantar fasciitis.  Now, I am thankful I developed the condition because it pushed me to swim again.  This time, I hope to never give it up.