Are you a swimmer?
Society likes labels. Man/woman, working/unemployed, old/young. We like to categorise and put things in boxes. I guess it helps our brain to compartmentalise, sort some order from the chaos. When we label things they’re often grouped together, positive or negative connotations about that group are often applied to all that “fit” in that label. Grouping and ordering is a great thing, it gives us an easy, simple way to navigate the world but it can lead to assumptions and conclusions being made that aren’t always right.
From a personal perspective the labels I use for myself might be Mum, woman, walker, swimmer. In the past I’ve often qualified that last one. I’m not a “proper” swimmer. I’ve never competed or trained extensively. To me, that was a proper swimmer, not the hobby that’s allowed me to morph work and pleasure together.
When I was at school there was a competitive swimming club based there. I played around in the sessions either side of them. Fishing bricks off the bottom with my Dad, trying to swim widths and eventually lengths without coming up for breath, enjoying that now rare thing, diving boards! We swam lengths a bit but there was a lot of just mucking about. To me, the “swimmers” were those people who were training. Following unfathomable numbers and codes written on a whiteboard propped at the end of each lane. They took it seriously, they got out of breath, sweated, swam beautiful perfect swim strokes, had bodies like gods and goddesses, never seemed to stop or chat. I was not that. I was a pudgy teen who floated well, and found a space I was comfortable and happy just being me in.
As I got older I carried on swimming. Ploughing up and down as one of the few forms of exercise I actually enjoyed, jumping in the sea or a river on holiday. But if anyone ever described me as a swimmer I was surprised.
A quick google search tells me that to “swim” is defined as “to move through water by moving the body or parts of the body”. So, basically anyone who gets into water and can move around is a swimmer.
It reminded me of a conversation I heard at school when a friend complained that they couldn’t draw. The art teacher very kindly said “Can you make a mark on that piece of paper with that pencil? If you can, then you can draw.” It didn’t matter that it wasn’t necessarily what he wanted or expected to draw but it was still drawing. That friend went on to study art and now works as a graphic designer.
So if swimming is just moving yourself through water I could, in theory, tog someone in buoyancy aid and wetsuit, pop them in the water and, even if they claimed they couldn’t swim, the chances are they’d swim in some way, shape or form. I’m not advocating this kind of thing without some support, for some this could bring on a whole world of panic but hopefully you can see my point. Even that person is a swimmer.
In the last few years, I’ve been lucky enough to be part of focus groups and consultations that have questioned all the assumptions I used to apply to myself and it’s given me the confidence to say “I am a swimmer”, because a swimmer is anyone. No limits or restrictions. Inside, outside, warm water, cold water, woolly hat, swimming cap, no hat. Diving off a rock for the fun of it, splashing about in a mermaid tail. It’s all swimming!
So it doesn’t matter how you swim. If you can get in, float and move through the water in whatever way works for you then you’re a swimmer. You don’t need the perfect breaststroke, front crawl or backstroke and you most certainly don’t need to be able to swim butterfly. Just get in and move, enjoy the water on your skin, the weightlessness, the support on your body. The enveloping hug of water transporting you away from the everyday burdens of gravity. That for me is swimming and that’s what makes me and millions of other people swimmers.
If you want to expand your swimming journey head over to Services to see what Peak Swims can offer, from swimming lessons for beginners right through to outdoor swimming adventures.
