You have to admit it seems a pretty silly way of swimming, with your front half doing one thing and your legs doing something else entirely. A bit like patting your head and rubbing your stomach. Butterfly has always had the aura of a novelty act for me. The one you might try for a bit of a laugh at the end of the session.
And yet they take it seriously. It's in the Olympics!
Butterfly dolphin, as I knew it as a child, is one of the two strokes I'm most ....nervous is too strong a word.... doubtful of my abilities in. The other one that concerns me is front crawl, simply because I find it more tiring than my normal breaststroke or backstroke and worry that I won't manage full lengths of it.
But at least I know I can co-ordinate myself in front crawl. Reading the instructions for 'basic' dolphin I understand most of it. But I know I'm going to struggle with two kicks for every one arm stroke. It may not sound hard when I read "kick your arms in, kick your arms out". It may be that using that mantra will suddenly make everything click in a way it never has done before.
But I really don't think so. It just feels completely counter intuitive. I think I'll be concentrating so hard on getting the two kicks in that I'll forget to manoeuvre my arms and end up flailing about in a most embarrassing manner.
Does it matter? Yes. This started just as a way of raising some money for FRED. But now it's personal. I'm going to start on butterfly next, because of a linked reading & swimming memory. There was a large banner on the wall of Derby swimming baths & I can remember the day when, from in the pool, I realised I could read the words: 'Practice makes perfect'.
Would I have been six or seven perhaps? I don't know. And I didn't really know what the words meant back then. They sounded a little admonitory, in an 'eat your greens' type of way. But I'm the lucky one and always have been, without ever (back then) appreciating it. I picked up reading easily.
With reading I hardly had to practice - I just got it. I don't know why, I just did. But I moaned throughout my childhood because I didn't feel 'special'; I wasn't 'good at anything'. 'But, Catherine, you're good at reading, you're good at spelling, and English', my mother would say (or sigh, a little impatiently, if I'd been going on about it).
Big blooming deal. It wasn't singing. It wasn't painting. It wasn't anything that would make people notice me and admire me.
Thankfully I am mostly a little more mature now. And I not only realise that I'm lucky but also that the other things I want to achieve won't just be handed to me on a plate. I have to work at them. And if practice won't quite make perfect, it will at least be more perfect than it was. And I'll have a darn sight more satisfaction out of it for having made myself do it.
And that's what I think our learners have realised too. That's why we often get most success with learners who have made a very personal commitment to make this change. Because they're going to have to work and they're going to have to practice.
And if they can do it, so can I.
If by any chance you were lucky too and found reading easy, spare a thought for those who weren't so fortunate. Please send a donation to:
Frank Rainer, Treasurer, Oaklands, George Road, Yorkley, Lydney, Gloucestershire, GL15 4TL
- made out to Forest Read Easy Deal. It'll help our learners keep practicing.
No comments:
Post a Comment