Un-Synched

I went to synchronized swimming for the first time since early June, this morning. It started last week, but due to technical difficulties (i.e. I forgot to wear my contacts and can’t see a thing without them), I was unable to get into the water. As it was, I was excited to jump in and get swimming after a few months out of the water. I had been pretty active throughout the summer, so I expected it to go fairly smoothly. It just wasn’t one of those days.

It started out well enough. I have an underwater mp3 player to keep me from going crazy doing laps. I highly recommend this for anyone who loves swimming but finds it somewhat tedious. I had been plodding along at a regular pace until Walking on Sunshine started and I kicked it into a higher gear. That song always puts a spring in my step (or a bump in my freestyle?). I finished warm up at a pretty good pace, and was ready to get into the good stuff. This was where things started to slow down.

I was having a hard time remembering how do so some basic skulls. Granted, we don’t do them very often, but I never expected my recollection of how to do them to be so spotty. I chalked it up to the chlorine fumes. Then we did horizontal laps of Ballet Legs and Flamingo Legs. This usually isn’t hard for me, but today I could barely do one width across the pool. I couldn’t blame the chlorine fumes for this one. My shoulders were tight. Then the leg cramps started. This is a genetic predisposition I unwillingly inherited from my mom. The cramps start in my toes and work their way into my calves. I had been amazed at how infrequently I had gotten them the previous session, but here they were in full force. 

Between all of this, there was a lot of holding onto the wall, panting, and frustration on my part. Given my less than stellar yoga sessions these past couple of weeks, I had to grudgingly accept that my body, for whatever reason, was in need of some TLC and rest. 

I was just pondering this when I saw my instructor sit down abruptly at the side of the pool, her head in her hands. She had been complaining of nausea in the beginning of class, but now she looked wane and pale. We hurried to her side and one of the ladies went to call the life guard. Her breathing had become shallow and talking was hard for her. We sat with her and someone made the call to get the paramedics. They came to get her and I watched her lie down, her body think and frail, and I was scared for her.

And as I sit here waiting to hear about her condition, I worry for her.

I’m pretty sure she’ll be ok, but I’m not sure what went wrong, today. I feel somewhat guilty for being so stuck in my own head that I didn’t notice she wasn’t doing well, sooner. It wouldn’t have helped her, but all my minor aches and pains and kvetching about my body seems so silly and vain, in comparison.