Question

How did the Orther become a swimmer finally

Answer 1

When people learn that I can’t swim, the first thing they ask is how my parents could have condemned me to endure such an shameful existence. But my deficiency is not their fault. Every summer until sixth grade, over my strident objections, they would enroll me in the age-appropriate weeklong lesson at the community center pool.

I hated them. (The swim lessons, not my parents.) I hated them because I was awful: all flailing limbs and frequent stops to “clean out my goggles,” during which I would take as many furtive steps forward as I could without the teacher noticing. I loathed putting my face in the water. I dreaded holding my breath. I became so fearful of the familiar chemical burn of chlorine invading my nose that I started wearing a garage-sale scuba mask in lieu of standard goggles. By the time I started middle school and aged out of lessons, I had decided that I would be fine never entering water in which my feet couldn’t touch the bottom again.

From there, whatever meager skills I had absorbed atrophied fast. Besides, I didn’t have much need for swimming, in the strictest sense of the word. A laborious dog-paddle between dock and wherever my cannonball landed was enough for summer camp. At the beach, I would take idyllic walks in the surf, allowing the water to lap at my ankles before retreating to higher, drier sand. At pools, I would hang out in the shallow end, or sit on the edge and dangle my feet, explaining that I just didn’t feel like getting wet that day. When I went tubing with friends last year, I just asked the driver to take care not to flip me. Life jacket and everything, I was terrified of being alone in the water, even for a moment.

Answer 2

he started swimming and son hence he became a swwimwer