I had an incident in the Caribbean twenty years ago and I really haven’t gone swimming since.

Oh, I’ve been in people’s backyard pools with three year olds. But as far as entering what we used to call an “Olympic-size” pool, with a depth over my head and a distance from one side to another of more than one or two strokes, I don’t think so.

You see back in the Islands I went snorkeling. They passed out these little inflatable bags that were supposed to serve as life preservers, and I didn’t think twice. But after looking at the fish I turned to go back and I realized I was in a current. Okay, okay. I swam slow and steady, but when I looked up the boat was still far away. Not light years away, but I was alone, in the water, outside of the confines of the United States and I won’t say I began to panic, but I did start to get scared. And I’m paddling and paddling and eventually I make it to someone else’s boat. Which I pull myself upon. And no one questioned me, and I thought that was weird, but after resting about five minutes it was time to swim back to my boat, which really was pretty close, but I was daunted, and after making it, I don’t remember going swimming again.

I grew up swimming. My mother took us to the beach…those are some of my earliest memories. We went to Cape Cod on vacation. I knew how to swim before I even attended Camp JCC at six years old. And I got all the badges and Junior Lifesaving and then Senior Lifesaving…

I even went snorkeling alone in Sharm El-Sheik, when it was briefly part of Israel, when the only abodes were tents, and I was much further from the shore than I was in the Caribbean, and I was diving down into coral reefs and…

There was that time in my late twenties when I would go to the West L.A. YMCA and swim 600 yards a day. I had the Speedo and the goggles.

But you eventually burn out on swimming. It’s one of the more boring sports.

And I didn’t realize I hadn’t been swimming since that time in the Islands until about seven years ago, after I had rotator cuff surgery.

And the more time that went by, the more uptight I became.

I mean how strong was my upper body anyway? I do these exercises with a band every day, but I don’t pump iron, I don’t like to do any exercise that has no component of fun. And I’m into aerobic, not anerobic. And I used to ride my bike, but there was an incident that was so heavy, that required surgery, that took me more than a decade to get over emotionally.

So I hiked.

And I was out walking today, and it was a beautiful day, and my leg strength is really pretty good, as is my breathing capacity. I’ve never smoked. I hike in the mountains three to five times a week. I do back exercises and I stretch every day. But swimming is more about the upper body than the lower body. When was I going to get back in the water?

And today I got a hankering. It was just that warm. And I dug deep into a drawer and I found…

The same damn bathing suit that I wore in the Caribbean. It was faded, stretched out, but I put it on and traipsed down to the pool in the Lodge and…

There were two ten year olds in the pool, acting just like I did when I was that age, without a care in the world, believing there was no way they could drown, never mind there being no supervision.

I’ll be honest. I was too anxious to dive into the deep end. I know, I know, it’s psychological, but still.

So I walked down to the shallow end and I was confronted with the fact that I always dove in, but here it was too shallow.

So holding on to the rail I tippy-toed down and…

The water was cold. Somehow I expected it to be warmer, but I’ve been through this routine a zillion times. You’ve got to go in all at once, to acclimatize yourself, soon thereafter it doesn’t feel cold at all.

And that’s what I did.

And I experienced an unanticipated euphoria. I was connected to who I once was, it felt so good.

But now I had to swim.

No one was watching, there was no test, so I started off with a baby step, I swam the width of the pool. And then again. And again.

And now I started evaluating my stroke. I realized when I was turning my head for air, I was turning too much of my back. So I adjusted.

And then I walked out to the deepest part of the pool I could still stand in and…

Swam to the shallow end.

That was not a problem. But I won’t say I was super-confident.

Now it was time to swim into the deep end. I chose a ladder on the side, just shy of the end, for my target. And the one great thing about a pool is you can open your eyes underwater and see where you’re going, and I could see the aluminum steps and it was no problem.

And from there, I swam to the ladder across the pool, all the way at the deep end.

These were not huge accomplishments.

But you reach a certain age when…

You wonder if you can still do it.

Most people stop doing it.

And I do certain things. If I die taking chances on the ski slope, I’m fine with that. But every once in a while I wonder… If I fall and get hurt, how fast will I recover? I’ve been injured, it does happen. But when you get older, it takes a longer time to recover, physically, never mind psychologically.

And now they have via ferratas in the mountains of America. I’d like to do that. But the newer ones are more serious, they require a certain amount of upper body strength, do I have that much?

In my thirties, even forties, I wouldn’t have thought twice. I’ll be honest, in my fifties too. We once thought of booking a trip to Canada where a heli-skiing operation has a via ferrata in the summer.

But now?

So I was at the deep end of the pool. Now I had to swim the entire length.

I knew I could make it, but I wanted to avoid freak-out, so I stayed within reach of the side.

And there was one moment when I swallowed a little water, but I stayed calm and focused on my technique and soon I was at the other wall.

Now what?

Well, especially when you get older, you have to build your strength up. You don’t jump into the pool and do twenty laps without having gone swimming for years.

And to be honest, I could feel muscles I normally don’t. Every exercise uses a different set of muscles.

So I didn’t see the point in more laps. But I thought if I had easy access to a pool, I could go in every day, build up my stamina. That’s who I am. I’m into nailing the routine.

But I don’t have regular access to a pool.

So I’m there in the water, alone, wondering what I’m supposed to do.

No more laps were necessary, I’d proven my point.

But was I supposed to just float, or get out, or..?

And then I realized if there was someone else there, I could have stayed in forever. You know, until my skin pruned.

Ultimately, after a few more minutes, I got out. Toweled off and came back to the room.

But I can’t wait to go back in tomorrow. This time, with a dive!