I never thought I would be on the swim team again…especially not in the United States.
One thing about swimming I have to admit is that I hated it when I was little, even though it always felt great after the training (starving most of the time). I hated it not because of how much water I swallowed, but because my father always made me go. Even on days I really didn’t feel like it.
He was always complaining that I lazed around too much. Which of course I did, training sessions were truly exhausting.
In China, being on a swim team was hell. I was always reluctant whenever father took me to the swimming pool on his bike. I’d sit behind him on the bicycle and think about how miserable my life was.
The water I swam in was freezing cold – you have to keep swimming just to keep yourself warm. The coach was strict and cruel. They pushed you to the limit and beyond. Everybody on my swim team was around the ages of 5-10, but our coach treated us as if we were 20. One memory I will never forget was being stretched by our coach. After each training session, she would ‘help’ us stretch our arms by grabbing and pulling them as far as they could go – it felt like my muscle tissue was splitting – it was excruciating.
I always felt a huge relief almost like heaven the second she stopped ‘splitting’ my arms.
I was taught to swim at the age of 3. I had no idea exactly what I was doing back then. A three-year-old would have no clue that swimming is an important surviving skill, or a cool recreational sport. Yet, that’s how my life as a swimmer started.
Can you imagine a six-year-old swimming a 1500-meter every day 5 days a week, and jogging 3 miles every weekend. Yeah, me neither. If my memory was correct, it was more than that. The dry-land training was just as intense.
My life before and during elementary school was filled in water. I could hardly breathe. And the pressure from my father was always present.
Finally, the day came when I was eligible for the Provincial team (like State team in the US). I had already been eligible 3 years before that, but because of financial issues in my family I could not go. It wasn’t until then that I felt frustrated. I was good enough. I trained hard for 7 years. But I had to quit.
I had to quit, not for the reason that I just couldn’t take it anymore, but simply because my dad said so. I had just graduated from elementary school. Under the pressure of peers and Chinese society, we decided to stop – to not to risk my ‘future’ in being a full-time swimmer.
The main reason though, was that my dad thought there was no future for me in swimming: ‘I was not a hard-working kid’, and that I was not the ‘right material’ for swimming, because I was ‘not trying as hard as other swimmers on the team’. I do admit that I took a lot more breaks than the other swimmers, but I did not want to give up, especially not after all those years of hard training. I had come so far. I simply did not want to give up the chance to become a better swimmer and to swim in a more competitive environment. What comes next after the Provincial team? The National team. Then what? The Olympics. It was only a few steps forward. I did not want to give up. I wish I had not.
My 7 years of swimming life ended like a fire sparkle put out by a drop of rain – left me feeling helpless and wondering what would I be today if I had not given up.
I’ve never swam since then.
Now 7 years later, here in the US, I tried for the first time to swim on a school team. I found myself breathless again, although this time not from the training. Rather, it was from the absence of not swimming for so many years. Much to my delight, the years of swimming experience had not grown rusty and let me down. The techniques were still there, like an instinct inside me that never went away. What I have lost the most was endurance. I was easily exhausted after swimming 50 meters. I gasped. Literally. It was, nonethless, great to be back on a swim team again. The competitive atmosphere, the smell of chlorine – all felt too familiar for me.
Swimming in the US was an entirely different experience.
After all, it was my choice joining the swim team this time. I had no regrets. The training was more team-oriented. It was equally tough and tiring, but more fun and humanized. The focus was more on the technique rather than pure endurance. It was bearable. Now, that may be just because I’m older and have a higher pain threshold. The variety of my teammates was what made my swimming experience in the US truly amazing and interesting. As a language geek, I loved the fact that there were Russian, Tagalog, Spanish, Italian, and of course Mandarin and English speakers on my team. Oh, and the coach even spoke Vietnamese. So that’s definitely something!
I can’t complain about my swimming experience in China as a child – thinking back, it was, in fact, a great experience. Without it, I would not have been able to compete on a swim team in the US, or had been able to grow as tall as my father is. All the pain I had undergone eventually paid off – it was all worthwhile.
I appreciate my father, who pushed me to start.
I appreciate that he wanted me to be strong. And because of swimming, and many other great sports he got me into, I am strong and healthy – in mind and body.
I appreciate that he took me to the swimming pool every day and never found any excuses to let me skip.
I appreciate his insistence, his patience, and his incredible influence on me.
I will grow the seed you planted elaborately in me and let it blossom. I must rest no more this time.
