Brave and stupid

Do you know what a “float test” is? It’s an assessment of your ability to stay afloat in deep water, fully clothed, for 10 minutes. I recently subjected myself to this test because it was a requirement for enrolling in a Learn to Row class.

Most people who know how to swim are probably able to complete a float test without much ado. They head to a local public pool in their tight-fitting active-wear and pass the 10 minutes swirling around in the water, mostly on their backs. It can be straightforward. It just wasn’t for me. I experienced it as a challenging mix of bravery and stupidity. 😊

My main issue was that despite learning to swim as a child, I hadn’t been in the water in decades. After having my tonsils and adenoids removed at age 12, I was no longer able to hold my breath underwater without physically plugging my nose shut. For a self-conscious tween girl, those nose plugs that swimmers wear just didn’t seem like a viable option. So I did the reasonable thing. I just never went swimming again . . .

Until my float test.

At 8 AM on a Sunday morning, I reported to a local pool and gave my forms to the lifeguard. He set me and another float tester up in a lane and started the timer. My mind knew that I could swim, but my body wasn’t convinced. After about two minutes I started audibly and forcefully hyperventilating.

By now we have covered some of the brave parts of this story. Electing to take a test that scared me was pretty brave. I’ve also alluded to the stupid parts. Taking a float test “cold” after decades of shunning the water is fairly stupid. I had also just been diagnosed with bronchitis and had been sick for weeks.

Once I started hyperventilating, the teenage lifeguard went on high alert. The poor kid didn’t know what to do with me. Should he yank me out of the pool? I was clearly in distress, but I was also keeping my head above water. And I wasn’t quitting. He stood there, eyes shifting back and forth, clutching his life-saving apparatus. I kept right on treading water and breathing like a hysterical bulldog, while giving him the look: Back off, I’ve got this.

Those ten minutes were mentally excruciating, but my body fully capable of doing it. I just had to ride it out. I’d be damned if I was going to have to take the test all over again.

In the end, I did it. I made it the full 10 minutes and then put on the required life jacket and dragged my sorry ass out of the pool.

After it was all over, I started wondering what the heck I’d been thinking. I wanted something (learning to row) more than I feared it (getting through the float test).  However, I could have been just as brave and not quite so stupid. I could have waited until I had recovered from bronchitis. I could have practiced in small increments and worked up to the full float test. I could have found better conditions, like more room in the pool when I took the test.

I routinely push myself into situations that require bravery. I like doing things that make me uncomfortable, and sometimes even scared.

I do it because the best life experiences are usually born out of discomfort. We try something new, and through hard work and perseverance, we accomplish things that we didn’t even know we were capable of.

What have you been thinking of doing, but know it would require some bravery?

What could you do to make it less stupid? (Think planning, preparation, practice.)

What benefits would you see from going for it?

Are you ready to sink or swim? 😊