Musings of a "Swam" Mom

For the first summer in 17 years, no member of our family responded to the command “Take Your Mark. (They did not respond to the command “clean your room, walk the dog, or do the dishes, either, but that’s a writing for another day.) As I crossed paths in person or online with our swim-related friends, the automatic question is “wow, how does it feel?” Typically, I replied with whatever emotion bubbled up at the time – relief, sadness, denial – but in truth I had not really taken the time to analyze how I was feeling. I decided my own “summer homework” was to face the music and figure out what emotions were treading water inside of me. Here’s my attempt. (Just don’t tell my kids that it took me all summer to write it or they will figure out that their procrastination gene came from me.)

Although I have personally never participated in an open water competition, I feel like our family’s swim journey may resemble one. Depending on the body of water and the length of the competition, an open water swimmer doesn’t necessarily see the finish line when they dive in thinking they have all the time in the world (relatively speaking) to reach the other side. I would think they look forward to the finish line coming into view knowing that reaching it will be a good thing. As the race goes on, the water may get choppy; there may be thoughts of quitting, turning around, or hopping onto the rescue boat. They persevere--though at times they question that decision. Upon arriving at the finish line, I imagine emotions are varied –relief at reaching the other side; frustration over what could have gone better or differently or how some other racer might have impeded the performance; elation or disappointment regarding the overall feat; annoyance when thinking of how else all that time could have been spent or what occasion or event was missed; relief that it’s over; and some uncertainty on whether they’d be willing to embark on another journey of that kind.  

I have felt all of these emotions and more now that our family life occurs almost exclusively on or around dry land. Though I should have anticipated the shoreline, it still felt like a bit of a crash landing leaving me to sort through what I miss and don’t miss and what I regret and don’t regret about my last 17 years spent as a “Swim Mom.”  As I look back on our family journey, the list would have to include the following.

What I don’t miss
The summer pool night menu of burger, pizza, pasta, repeat.

What I do miss
Not having to think about what’s for dinner … and better yet, not having to make it. 

What I don’t miss
Friday night panic of tearing through the house, searching for the makings of the perfect outfit to support the next morning’s theme. And the Saturday afternoons where I barely had the energy to take a nap.

 What I do miss
Saturday morning joy of watching the kids ages 5 to 18 carry out the theme with their skit, dance and handmade decorations. There are such few opportunities in today’s world to watch kids actually be kids and to see 18 year olds “playing” with 8 year olds, and let me tell you, summer league meets offer some of the best. A community pool during a swim team–related even turns into a giant playpen where kids of all ages are looked after and played with by everyone there. Even in college, I got to watch my “adult” son and his teammates jumping up and down singing the school fight song at the top of their lungs and pushing one another into the pool after a championship victory. There’s nothing like watching your kids being kids no matter their age.

What I don’t miss
The chlorine hangover on the Monday morning following a 4-day meet where we spent nearly every waking hour at an indoor pool.

What I do miss
Those built-in opportunities to spend hours on deck or in the stands socializing with friends without having to plan, cook, or clean to do so. We all just showed up, and the conversation, laughter, and yes, sometimes tears, would begin to flow.  

What I don’t miss
The DRAMA – which was usually brought upon by the adults. Swim parents (of which admittedly I was one) are passionate people – passionate about our kids and passionate about the sport. Combine this with overcharged temperaments on a hot summer’s day or in a steamy indoor pool, and emotions could lead to encounters that would be bantered about for weeks. Fortunately, I find these episodes to be a bit like childbirth – much discussed and suffered through in the moment, but typically forgotten by the next season.

What I do miss
The objectivity of the stopwatch. The beauty of the sport is that the stopwatch sets the team’s lineups, and there was usually no debating it. There was, typically, no room for favoritism by a coach, but there was plenty of room for hard work to eventually pay off in a faster time. There was no greater satisfaction than seeing a hard worker be rewarded with a personal best, regardless of what place he or she finished or what color ribbon was received.   

What I don’t miss
The countless hours of behind-the-scenes work that so many swim parents devote (or at least the 20% who do 80% of the work). Attending clinics, taking certification exams, planning team functions, sending out emails, attending meetings – the list is endless. I don’t know of any sport that requires so much parent participation both at the pool and away from it. It was my automatic answer to the question “what did you do on your summer vacation/weekend/holiday?”

What I do miss
Who am I kidding? I loved being a part of the sport in whatever capacity was needed at the time. Everyone knows the old adage that “you get out of something what you put into it,” and I feel that I “got out” of my volunteering ten times what I gave. I had the opportunity to meet and keep in touch with some great people, have some big laughs and learn a thing or two along the way. I actually feel sorry for those swim parents who opt to spend all their time in the stands or even not at the pool at all.

And of course, I also miss no longer being able to blame my swim parent volunteering for why laundry isn’t done or the weeds have taken over the flowerbeds. 

What I don’t miss
Having essentially one week a year when we could take a true family vacation and not worry about swim practice.

What I do miss
Crossing the Bay Bridge that first or second week in August and seeing it populated with cars displaying “Swim Taxi” bumper stickers because the entire metropolitan area swimming community was beach bound to soak up as much sun and fun as they could in one week. Oddly, I also miss attending meets in cities where I frankly would not have visited by this point in my life – Omaha (wonderful swim meet hosts), Buffalo (an excuse to visit Niagara Falls), and Pittsburgh among them – along with the places I loved having an excuse to return to more than once – Orlando in March and California in August. Who needs a travel guide? I still identify cities and universities by the pools I visited there and by the swimmers I watched compete at those pools.

What I don’t miss
Figuring out what to do with all the ribbons, certificates, plaques, medals and trophies collected each year (most of which, sadly, are in large plastic containers stuffed in our basement). I loved how our kids were rewarded for their efforts, but I loved more how that wasn’t what inspired them. They were more motivated by being a part of a team and helping to race that team to victory.  And, of course, being able to hang out with their teammates after the meet was over.

What I do miss
RELAYS! I love how swimming on a relay motivated the kids to swim faster than they ever would if swimming in an individual race. Memories of pre-relay psych ups and post-relay celebrations are etched in my mind. If they decide to toss all the other awards, I would request that each of them find the ribbon, plaque, certificate, trophy, etc. from the one relay race that meant the most to them to hold on to as their reminder of what working as a team can earn you. 

Oh yeah, and I also miss getting to hang out with MY friends after the meet, too.

So we’ve reached the opposite shore, the finish line of what at times felt like a marathon swim. I realize for some swim families, 17 years is just their warm-up. For me, it feels like a lifetime. Were there times I regretted our family’s complete integration into this sport? Oh, countless.  Because of all the family vacations not taken, the activities not joined, the memories not made because somebody couldn’t miss a practice, or a meet, or yes, even a parent volunteer meeting. But then I reflect back on all the friendships we wouldn’t have made had we not become a swim family, and those regrets evaporate into chlorinated air. While writing this, I’ve laughed, I’ve cried, I’ve sighed, I’ve regretted, I’ve rejoiced (mind you, some of this was while I was sitting in a local coffee shop so you can imagine the looks I got). I have felt a complete rainbow of emotions as I venture through a kaleidoscope of memories.

Would I want our family to embark on this journey again? It would be easy for me to say yes, but I wasn’t the one diving into a pool at 4:45am for 90 minutes before heading to school or missing out on yet another birthday party or school dance because of a swim meet or practice. So to my kids, thank you for being willing to take the plunge – albeit sometimes into what must have felt like icy waters – so that I could benefit from meeting so many wonderful people and creating such unforgettable memories during this journey. I’d like to think as your parent you felt like I was swimming just ahead of you, providing you with a draft that helped you swim just a wee bit faster and not as a buoy attached to your ankles holding you back or as some hot air steaming up your goggles, fogging your view of what lay ahead. Regardless, together we have reached the other side. And while we can’t start the race over again, we can celebrate a journey well swum. Thanks for allowing me to tag along.

And though now I am officially no longer a league board member, webmaster, team rep, parent rep, stroke and turn official, automation coordinator, or meet announcer, I am the one thing that this sport truly deserves more of … a true fan.