A coughing return to the pool

My first hint I was swimming alone was when my head went under water. WTF, I wondered as I sputtered back into the oxygen.

The second clue was that I kept running into the lane markers. Who is the crazy person steering me? Oh, me? Whoops. My head as rudder needs work.

All the volunteers in swimming have different ideas about what to do with me, or to me. This one let me swim on my own once I got the vest on, which was awesome, just unexpected. To be fair, I am sure he said something and I didn't hear but was like OK.

Once I figured out I was holding my head up, I still got a fair amount of water in my mouth. It was just open as I breathed, so water splashed in a bit.

The only time it caused me trouble was when I was working on this "recovery move." You bring your legs to your chest and lean forward. Then you just stand up. So yeah, it would be a modest recovery for me if no one was around. I'd go to stand up, my legs would flail around goofily, then I'd sink down to Michael Phelps' Locker (not Davy Jones' because I am in a pool).

As it was, the volunteer helped me once I was standing, so it worked. But have you ever tried leaning forward while wearing a flotation vest, albeit a modest one? That thing fought me, it fought me hard. And when it realized it was losing and I was going to keep leaning forward, it made me roll. I didn't sink because I was wearing the vest, I just took a face full of water and coughed.

It reminds me of the time at Lake Anna that Gram made me try her swimming belt. It is so great, she assured me. You just lie there and it keeps you afloat, my loving grandmother said. She then turned away, cackled a sinister laugh and rubbed her hands together as her fiendish plot came to fruition. OK, maybe not the last part, but I put that thing on and tried to float.

It did keep me from sinking. It just rolled me and sat on top of me, and me about six inches under the surface.

Swimming was not that bad.