I jumped into the pool three stories below the corner of 24th and
I had known about Team New York Aquatics (TNYA) for years, having seen them in Gay Pride marches mainly. A combination of factors helped me to finally screw up my courage to give it a try that day: After many years of inactivity, I had been working out at a gym for a year, so I was in decent enough shape; at the same time, I had grown bored with the gym, and was looking for a way to vary my exercise routine; and I had had a conversation the week before with a stranger at a party who swam for another swim team, which somehow made the whole “masters swimming” thing feel a little more approachable for me.
That first day, though, I was nervous—not so much about swimming but about showing up and joining a group of strangers. And in a swimsuit, no less. But TNYA’s web site said they welcomed new members anytime; all I had to do was arrive a little early the first time. What I found was a group of people, most of whom didn’t seem to notice me, but enough of whom said hello that I felt welcome.
The pool was divided by speed, just like the team I had swum on briefly as a teen, so I found my way to the slowest lane. The water was both exhilarating and calming. I soon remembered how to count by 25s, the order of an individual medley, even how to swim butterfly. The coach kept giving us more sets, and I kept swimming. I managed to stay in for the full 90-minute practice, and was amazed to have swum 2,800 meters. I was completely exhausted. And I was hooked.
I went again the next week, and signed up for two practices a week, figuring I could go to the gym two or three times a week and swim twice. Pretty soon, though, I felt like twice a week was not enough, and before long I was swimming three, four, sometimes five times a week. The gym fell off the schedule (I’ll get back soon, really I will).
There is almost always a group of people going out for dinner after practice, and TNYA has become the center of my social life. Partly that’s because it’s where I am most weekday evenings; partly it’s because on the whole, swimmers are smart, interesting people. Mostly it’s because I feel like I belong there, in a way that I don’t feel anywhere else.
After five years on the team, being a swimmer has become a central part of my self-image. Before I joined, I didn’t understand people who were so committed to working out. Now, if I don’t swim for a few days in a row, I get anxious, even depressed. At 40, I am in much better shape than I was at 20, or at any time in my life. But more important than that, becoming a swimmer has changed the way I think of myself. I was never a jock before. Like many gay kids, high school gym class was a nightmare for me. I wasn’t good at any sports; I didn’t have any interest in watching sports. I swam on a city team for a while, and I was briefly on my high school rowing team, but left both because I didn’t fit in with the macho jock culture. For me, being on a gay team makes it possible for me to be a part of group athletics, and to enjoy it, for the first time in my life, and I love it.
And that feeling I had on the first day comes back to me every time I get in the pool.
