Guangxun Jin | 金光勋 | 김광훈

The activity center I always go to happens to have a pool, and they offer swimming lessons for adults. So, I signed up.

Swimming requires gear just like snowboarding, but preparing for it is way simpler. Generally, you need a swimsuit, a swim cap, and goggles, plus some beginner aids like kickboards. I thought that since it’s a beginner class, they’d provide things like kickboards, so I didn’t think I need to buy my own. As for goggles, since I’m a total newbie who can’t do anything yet, I thought I might not need them right away. I could take a class or two first and then buy them later. So, I just bought a well-fitting pair of swim shorts. For men, there are the tight-fitting ones—like briefs or “trunks”—and then there are the ones that look more like loose shorts. I went with the short-style ones because they seem more common and aren’t as “awkward” as the tight ones. I’m not saying tight swimsuits are inherently embarrassing, but I’d definitely feel awkward wearing them myself 😓. Regarding the swim cap, my hair is very short, so I figured I wouldn’t need one. I’ll hold off for now; if they require it later, I’ll get one. Lastly, I just needed a large towel to dry off after getting out of the pool and rinsing off.

To be honest, while I was getting my gear ready, I actually looked up the specific steps for entering and exiting the pool area. The last time I was in a pool was back in elementary school, and I didn’t really remember the protocol. I didn’t want to look like a total “noob,” so I figured the least I could do was research how to get in and out 😅.

For the first lesson, I arrived at the poolside just like as if I were an experienced regular. It was a small class—six students and one instructor—but only four of us showed up for the first lesson, including me. After the instructor introduced himself, we got straight to it.

Learning to swim starts from the basics, of course. Since the course lasts about four months with quite a few lessons, it would be too tedious to write about every single lesson. Instead, I’ll describe my progress.

We started in the shallow end. Contrary to what I expected, we didn’t dive right into swimming or kicking with boards. Instead, the instructor had us practice breathing. We all stood in the pool, took a big breath, held it, and then squatted down until our heads were fully submerged. Then, we slowly exhaled to create bubbles, stayed down for a few seconds, and stood back up to take a breathe again. It was meant to simulate and help us get used to the rhythm of breathing while swimming.

Then the instructor asked us: “What do you do if you fall down in this pool?” We were in the shallow end, and the water only came up to about an adult’s waist. If you fall, you just stand up, right? The instructor said that’s exactly right, but often people who can’t swim—even in shallow water—panic when they fall and lose their balance. Even if the water is only waist-deep, you can still drown. So, the rule is: if you fall in shallow water, your first thought should be to stand up. But what if you can’t find your balance? It sounds crazy—it’s so shallow, how can you not find your footing?—but it happens a lot, especially to non-swimmers. In that case, you need to hold your breath, tuck your knees to your chest, curl into a ball, and hug your legs. This will naturally cause your back to float toward the surface, helping you regain your orientation so you can plant your feet and stand up.

After that, we started using beginner aids to practice floating. We had things like buoyancy belts and foam “dumbbells” and “barbells”. Once we had the gear on, the instructor wanted us to try floating. He told us to do nothing—just relax and lie on our backs in the water. The biggest fear for a non-swimmer is sinking. Even with the gear, I wondered: Can this stuff really keep a grown man afloat? We were all a bit skeptical. The instructor had us try one by one. I had my doubts too, but I volunteered to go first. The water wasn’t deep; if I sank, I’d just stand up. I wouldn’t choke on the water, right? I followed the instructions, relaxed, held my breath (just in case), and leaned back. I didn’t sink. I was actually floating! I stopped holding my breath and just breathed while lying there. I didn’t realize those aids had so much buoyancy. Everyone else followed suit and gave it a try.

Later, we tried floating in different positions. For the rest of the class, I kept volunteering to go first. This isn’t usually my style, but I did it precisely because it isn’t my style😂 Eventually, the instructor stopped calling on me first and made me go last—probably to encourage the more hesitant students to step up.

Then we finally started learning basic kicking. There are different strokes—freestyle, backstroke, breaststroke, and butterfly. We practiced the flutter kick used in freestyle. The key points are: keep your body straight and close to the surface, engage your core, and don’t arch your back or stick your butt out. The kick should come from your hips, not just your lower legs. Keep your legs naturally straight but relaxed, with only a slight bend at the knee. Relax your ankles and keep your feet pointed, whipping the water like a “lash.” We wore our flotation gear and tried to move forward. My form was decent; the instructor said it looked good. However, I felt like I was moving incredibly slowly—sometimes it felt like I was just kicking in place.

(Image of kicking)

Time always seems to fly during swim lessons; it’s over before I know it. The moment I stood up to leave the pool, my body felt incredibly heavy. I guess the buoyancy in the water is so different from being on land, and since it was my first time in a pool in years, my body hadn’t adjusted yet. Anyway, that’s how the first a couple of lessons went.

Before moving to the next chapter, there’s one more thing. After class, I’d rinse off in the communal showers, dry off, and change. Since the lessons were in the evening, I’d often feel sleepy by the time I got home. I originally planned to shower properly at home, but since I was tired, I thought about just going to bed and showering the next morning. After all, I had already rinsed off at the pool, right? But I could still smell the chlorine. I looked it up online and found that you’re supposed to shower as soon as possible after swimming. The chlorine and other chemicals can stay on your skin and hair, potentially causing damage. Plus, the water might look clear, but with so many people using it, even if it’s properly disinfected, it can still contain sweat, skin cells, and even… trace amounts of feces and urine, and so on😰. After reading that, my reaction was: Shower! Now! Since then, the first thing I do after getting home is jump in the shower. Why not shower at the gym? Because carrying body wash, shampoo, conditioner, and face wash is just too much hassle. Instead of doing a half-hearted job at the pool, I’d rather just rush home and get a proper scrub.

The first two lessons were roughly as I mentioned before, practicing floating and kicking with auxiliary equipment. By the third lesson, the instructor was going to take us directly to the deep end. As we walked with the instructor toward the deep pool, a lifeguard on the way smiled and said to the instructor, “Taking them to the deep end already?” I didn’t think much of it at the time. Not until we reached the deep area… On the edge of the deep pool, it was written that the pool was over three meters deep. Moreover, the clear water allowed you to see straight to the bottom, which felt suffocating and terrifying.

The instructor had each of us put on a life jacket. It was impossible for us to get into the pool directly because we couldn’t swim at all. The instructor also took the opportunity to teach us about life jackets. According to current records, not a single person has ever drowned while wearing a life jacket. I don’t know if that’s truly the case, but that’s what the instructor told us. So the safety factor of a life jacket is very much guaranteed, but the prerequisite is wearing it correctly. If it is too big, too small, or worn incorrectly, it cannot provide 100% of its life-saving effect. A life jacket looks similar to a vest; after putting it on, you must fasten all the straps or buckles on the chest. If you cannot fasten all the buckles or straps, it means the life jacket is too small, and you should try a size larger. After fastening all the straps or buckles, put your thumbs into the top of the life jacket at the shoulders and pull up. If you can pull it up past the lower edge of your ears, it means the life jacket fits. If you can pull it to the middle of your ears or higher, it means the life jacket is too big. And after jumping into the water, even if all the buckles are fastened, a person might slip out from the life jacket.

I had worn a life jacket once before while on a boat, but I had never actually entered the water wearing one. Therefore, I had no idea whether a life jacket would truly keep me afloat. Even if the instructor said no one has drowned while wearing one, did that just mean they didn’t die, while choking and swallowing water was inevitable? The instructor told us to get in, but we certainly didn’t dare to. Then the instructor said there was a place to step on the edge of the pool; if we didn’t dare to try the deep water directly, we could step on that first to enter. Following the instructor’s words, I supported myself on the pool edge with my arms and slowly extended my feet down to test it. There really was a place to step, at a depth of a little over one meter from the water surface. I stood on it and observed.

The instructor wanted us to try going into the deep parts. This wasn’t like the shallow end, which has varying heights. For example, the start of a pool might be 1 meter deep with a sloped bottom, reaching 1.5 meters at the end. But in the deep area, this stepping ledge was only about 10 centimeters wide; the rest was a uniform depth of over three meters. Standing in the water, I looked at the bottom of the deep end again—it was still quite scary. This wasn’t something you could just try on a whim.

But staying in this spot forever wasn’t an option; I still had to try. I began by holding the edge with my hands, then straightened my arms and took my feet off the ledge to see if I could float. Even if I couldn’t float, by holding the edge with both hands, I wouldn’t swallow water. From the first few attempts, I slowly began to feel safe. I tried further by letting go of the edge. I was actually floating, and it seemed quite safe. Gradually, I began to adapt to being in the deep area with a life jacket. I started trying to leave the edge and go to the center of the pool. As I became more and more adapted to the deep area, I no longer felt afraid.

One female student still didn’t dare to come down while we were trying the deep area; she stood by the poolside without entering the water. The instructor tried to persuade her to come down, but she kept shaking her head in fear. I didn’t blame her at all, because as someone who can’t swim, the impact of this deep area is indeed quite massive. It is only natural for anyone to feel terrified. I told her that there was a place to step on the edge of the pool and that she could step on that first to try coming in. Only after she knew there was a place to stand inside did she dare to try entering the water. Perhaps when the instructor first mentioned it, he only brought it up briefly, so she might not have noticed at the start. But she still didn’t dare to step down from the ledge. However, this doesn’t mean she was cowardly or anything like that; rather, it is the expected reaction for a non-swimmer to see three meters of crystal-clear water.

In the end, with about 15 minutes left, we went back to the shallow area to practice. But at that moment, I had a thought: I want to be able to swim freely in this deep area one day.

I had always heard that breaststroke is easy while freestyle is difficult, so I thought we would start with the simpler breaststroke. However, we actually started with freestyle, and it would continue throughout the entire course. As I mentioned before, I won’t describe each lesson chronologically. Instead, I will cover the progress of learning freestyle in one section. The progress I’m mentioning here isn’t just from one or two lessons, but spans the whole course.

Once we were more or less able to kick, we started using flutterboards for practice (previously, we had been using barbell-shaped buoyancy tools). Let me explain briefly: flutterboards are mainly used for teaching and training; they are not effective life-saving tools. If you press your full weight onto them, they will still sink. Although my kicking wasn’t particularly skilled, it had improved a lot. Before, I was basically spinning in circles, but now I could actually move forward.

Next, we learned the arm movements for freestyle. The freestyle arm stroke roughly goes like this: when entering the water, the arm extends forward, and the fingers enter first. You shouldn’t just splash into the water; you should enter like you are “cutting” the water. Once the hand is in the water, you use your palm and forearm to “catch the water,” keeping the arm bent as if pulling the water backward to push your body forward. When the arm leaves the water, the elbow should be higher than the hand, swinging back to the front like you are “throwing water,” while the other hand starts its entry, maintaining an alternating stroke.

(Image of freestyle arm movement)

This time, we used a flutterboard along with another piece of equipment: a sponge-like object clamped between the legs. Since we needed to focus on arm movements, we temporarily stopped moving our legs. But if the legs don’t move, they don’t float, so this tool is used to increase lower-body buoyancy. Combined with the flutterboard, when the non-stroking arm needs to maintain a gliding position, it isn’t actually gliding in the water but is holding onto the flutterboard to simulate gliding, mainly to practice the arm swing. Since I didn’t know how to breathe while swimming yet, I basically had to stop and stand up to breathe after every few strokes. Moreover, even with the pull buoy clamped between my legs, my lower body would still sink, and I often couldn’t maintain balance, wobbling from side to side.

Next was learning how to breathe in freestyle. For freestyle breathing, when the arm is lifted, the head must turn to the side so the mouth clears the water surface to inhale. Generally, you breathe once every 2 to 3 arm strokes. We added this breathing motion to the arm-swinging drills we did before. This breathing movement is a bit difficult to master; I often ended up turning my face too far. My mouth only needed to slightly clear the water, but because I was afraid of choking, I would try to lift my mouth as high as possible, resulting in my face turning almost backward instead of to the side. I also noticed that when I tried to breathe, I could only do it on one side—only when my right arm was lifted, not the left. Also, even if I aimed for every 2 or 3 strokes, I felt like I was running out of air before then and had to inhale immediately. So, I breathed almost every single stroke. I later learned that, aside from needing to fix the habit of lifting my head too high, breathing on only one side and breathing every stroke is normal for a beginner and doesn’t necessarily need to be changed. It will change naturally as I become more proficient.

After that, we had to add kicking back into the current movements. The pull buoy was no longer needed and was replaced by fins. Because fins greatly increase propulsion, and with stronger kicking force, my lower body wouldn’t sink, giving me enough power to move forward. Otherwise, with my current technique, combined with arm swings and breathing, I might still be spinning in place. But fins are, after all, an auxiliary tool; a good foundation in basic kicking is still necessary. Later on, we stopped using fins and practiced using only the flutterboard, putting the strokes, kicking, and breathing all together.

After practicing this way for two or three more lessons, we stopped using the flutterboard altogether. Without using any equipment, because I was becoming more comfortable and familiar with the water, I could already swim forward for a few meters. Why only a few meters and not further? Because I felt that breathing was just too difficult. I often failed to catch my breath, so I would stop after only two or three strokes and stand up to breathe. Once, we put on the fins again (but no other gear) to practice freestyle. This time, I was surprised to find that I could actually breathe and swim from one end of the pool all the way to the other. I realized the reason I couldn’t breathe well before was likely because I was too slow. My speed when kicking barefoot was nowhere near as fast as with fins, which often caused me to sink. At least, I think that was one of the reasons. Of course, the main reason was likely a lack of practice—not enough to reach that “Aha!” moment where the skill suddenly clicks.

During another practice session, because I already had some understanding of the water, I was no longer afraid of it. I felt it was impossible to choke in the shallow area, even in the deeper parts (where the water reaches about the neck). However, one time I got careless. After practicing freestyle into the deeper part of the shallow area, I got a bit cocky, feeling very familiar with the water. I grabbed the lane rope and moved along slowly while kicking. Just as I was about to stop, for some reason, I suddenly lost my balance. My upper body was sinking while my lower body involuntarily floated up. The more I struggled, the less I could stand up, and I was holding the lane rope so tightly I didn’t dare let go. Finally, another student nearby gave me a hand, and I was able to stabilize myself and stand up. I realized then that I had been a bit too careless; even in the shallow area, I should still be careful.

Regarding freestyle, this chapter might end here. It feels like I haven’t finished the story. So, did I actually learn how to swim freestyle? That will be covered in a much later chapter.

Before ending this chapter, I want to interject one more thing. When I was preparing my swimming gear, I didn’t get goggles. But during the subsequent practice sessions, I found that I couldn’t open my eyes underwater. I basically closed them as soon as I was submerged, which meant I was swimming blindly. One reason was that I really didn’t dare to open them; I wasn’t sure what it would feel like. The other was that I was afraid my eyes might get infected. Later, I went to buy a pair of goggles. Since I am slightly nearsighted, I even bought prescription goggles. Once I put them on, the feeling was completely different. Being able to see underwater improved the swimming experience by several levels. After that, I would wear them for every swimming lesson, or rather, every time I went to the pool. They are a piece of swimming gear very much worth buying.

Freestyle basically spanned the entire course, but other strokes were taught in between. One of them was the backstroke, which is the stroke where you lie on your back on the water’s surface to swim.

By the time we started learning this, we had more or less mastered kicking and had practiced with flutterboards. So, the techniques and equipment needed for backstroke practice were quite familiar to us. What was unfamiliar was the requirement to lie flat on our backs on the water.

When we practiced floating with equipment before, we had done movements lying on our backs, but we used a lot of auxiliary gear back then. This time, we could only use one flutterboard. The instructor had us hold the flutterboard against our chests while lying on our backs. I gave it a try, and holding the board, I actually floated. However, I didn’t dare to breathe, fearing I might accidentally choke on the water. Still, I tried to breathe anyway. During this process, I discovered a little trick: the more you fear choking and the more you hesitate to lean back, the more likely you are to sink. Specifically, your mouth might go below the surface, causing you to choke. The more you dare to lean back, the easier it is to float. Once I realized this, I became more confident in leaning back.

Next, after floating on our backs while holding the flutterboard, we practiced moving forward by kicking. It’s the same kick as in freestyle, just with the person flipped over. During this process, my face would occasionally sink into the water and then resurface. Normally, the face should stay above the water at all times. But I didn’t care much about that at the time. When I felt my face was about to sink, I would exhale; once it popped out, I would quickly inhale. I didn’t dare to breathe slowly.

Then, we simply stopped using the flutterboard and swam directly. But we didn’t use arm strokes yet; instead, we kept our arms straight, pointing in the direction of travel while doing the backstroke. Magically, as soon as I adopted this posture, my face stopped sinking and stayed above the water the whole time. I could breathe calmly now. I was able to swim from one side of the pool to the other, though I felt that kicking was very tiring. This was the first time I felt like I “somewhat knew how to swim” because I could float on the surface without any equipment, move forward, and breathe steadily without stopping to stand up—the only thing was I couldn’t see what was ahead of me! 😁 I feel like the concept of knowing how to swim might just be “not sinking, being able to move, and being able to breathe and exchange air stably.”

Later on, the instructor began to teach us how to do the arm strokes for backstroke. I won’t describe the arm movement here because, to this day, I still don’t know how to do it. As long as I keep my hands pointed in the direction I’m swimming, I can keep going. But as soon as I try to stroke with my arms, I sink—both my face and upper body go down together. Since there weren’t many lessons dedicated to backstroke, I simply didn’t practice the arm strokes anymore, nor did I look up the technical essentials.

The instructor also showed us the butterfly stroke during the course, but because it is too difficult for beginners and is said to be very exhausting, we didn’t learn it; we just watched what it looked like. My backstroke remains at the level where I can swim continuously but can’t use my arms—if I do, I sink. Maybe one day, if I really want to master the backstroke, I’ll look into how to do the arm strokes properly.

As the course progressed, the instructor took us to the deep end again. Since I had developed a bit of a feel for the water by then, I wasn’t as terrified or anxious as the first time. Even so, because we still didn’t know how to swim (we were only practicing), we entered the deep water wearing life jackets.

Before we officially got into the water, the instructor taught us some pool safety knowledge. He first introduced a piece of equipment called a rescue tube. Lifeguards use this to save drowning victims. It looks like a long flutterboard, but it is designed as a life-saving tool. It has a rope attached to one end. The lifeguard secures one end of the rope to themselves and throws the tube to the drowning person. If the person catches it, the lifeguard can pull the rope from the deck to bring them in. It is important to note that when pulling, you should be crawling or staying low near the pool edge to avoid falling; this also provides better friction. Otherwise, the lifeguard might be pulled into the water by the victim. If the victim is panicking and cannot find or grab the tube, the lifeguard can jump into the water directly to bring the victim and the tube together. These are the precautions for lifeguards or anyone attempting a rescue.

“But what if you are the one drowning? What should you do in the pool?” the instructor asked us. we gave various answers, and I participated enthusiastically. Suggestions included shouting for help, raising hands high, or struggling hard to attract attention. Instructor said they were all good points, but also gave us two answers we hadn’t thought of. One was to use a safety whistle. Safety whistles are pealess, so they still work perfectly even when soaked with water. You can hang the whistle around your neck with a cord and blow it if you are drowning. A lifeguard will immediately realize someone is in trouble and rush over as fast as possible. He even gave us a demonstration. At the time, there was one lifeguard patrolling the deck and another upstairs in the office talking to someone. The instructor told the deck guard that the whistle was just a demo, not a real emergency. Then he pointed to the large office window upstairs and told us to watch the person’s reaction. As soon as he blew the whistle, the person inside leaped up and immediately scanned the pool to find the drowning victim. Only when the instructor showed them the whistle did they realize it was just a teaching demonstration. Their reaction was incredibly fast—jumping up instantly to observe the pool.

The other method was very interesting: you can yell “Fire!”. It sounds counterintuitive—why yell “Fire” when you’re in the water? But the logic is that yelling “Help” is too broad; people might not know what’s happening. It could be a drowning, a robbery, or even a situation involving a gunman, so people might not come because they aren’t sure if they can help or if they’ll be in danger. But if you yell “Fire!”, people will think there’s a fire; they might feel they can contribute and will come over to check. This allows you to attract more people to help in a crisis. This doesn’t just apply to the pool; it works in other places, too.

Then we officially entered the pool. The first thing we were taught was treading water—the method of staying in one spot without sinking, keeping your head above the surface. There are several ways to tread water; we learned about three or four. A common one is the eggbeater, where your legs alternately move in circular, rotating motions.

(Image of eggbeater)

The arms swing symmetrically from side to side, as if drawing a figure-eight. Other methods include the breaststroke kick, the freestyle kick (which is said to be very tiring), and so on. Although we are vertical when not moving in the water, the body is actually slightly tilted when treading, as this helps maintain balance and stay afloat.

I tried all of these positions. Basically, none of them worked for me; I couldn’t feel myself floating because of the treading. Especially the eggbeater—it’s supposedly the most efficient motion, used by synchronized swimmers. But when I tried it, the alternating circles felt very unnatural, let alone helping me float. We only practiced it for a while before moving to the next part. Although I didn’t master how to tread water at all (it’s not realistic to master on the first try), I learned the methods and how to practice.

The next part was diving. We didn’t dive from a high platform but directly from the poolside into the pool. And we did it while wearing life jackets.

The instructor taught us two methods: a feet-first entry and a head-first entry. For the feet-first entry, you first spread your arms—not straight out to the sides, but slightly forward. Then you jump into the water upright, letting your feet enter first. As your body goes in and the water reaches your chest or shoulders, you slap the water surface hard with both arms once to slow down your descent. This didn’t seem too difficult, and when I tried it, the process went smoothly. However, sometimes the timing of the arm slap was a bit too early or too late. Because of the life jacket, as long as you hold your breath when jumping in, you will float back up on your own without choking.

The head-first entry involves putting your palms together with your arms nearly straight, fingertips pointing directly above your head. You dive into the pool at an angle. As you enter, your body forms a semi-circle, and you try to enter the water with your fingertips and head as vertically as possible. This movement didn’t feel stressful or scary, but when I tried it, I wasn’t skilled enough to enter vertically. As a result, my face and stomach got slapped by the water surface—it felt like someone had slapped me in the face and belly 😓. And although I didn’t drown, it felt like water had gone up my nose. Also, after entering the water, I completely lost my sense of direction. Fortunately, with the life jacket, as long as you stay calm, you will float up on your own.

(Image of the two types of diving)

After a few practices, the lesson ended. I always feel like one lesson isn’t long enough for me; I feel like it was over before I could fully enjoy it 😗. Overall, this experience in the deep end was much more relaxed than the first time. As long as you’re wearing a life jacket and know you’ll float up no matter what, there is really no pressure in the deep end.

While learning to swim, I also watched various instructional videos to consolidate and supplement what the instructor had taught us. Two of the students, however, made rapid progress. They could swim freestyle from one end of the pool to the other without any equipment. Although their technique wasn’t particularly standard, their improvement was truly impressive. The second time we went to the deep end, they even chose not to wear life jackets. For me, that was absolutely unimaginable.

Later, after talking with them, I learned that they also came to the pool outside of class—either for training or just to have fun. Sometimes they even came every day. Actually, I had thought about practicing at the pool outside of class hours too. However, this facility wasn’t just a public pool; it was also used as a training ground for professional swim teams. Therefore, it had its own schedule: certain times were for professional teams, some were for lessons like ours, and the remaining time was open to the general public. I thought it was a bit of a hassle and didn’t check the schedule—at the time, I didn’t even know where to look—so I never visited outside of class. In reality, I still wanted to practice in my spare time. So, I decided not to procrastinate anymore. I started by asking the instructor and the two students about the public hours. Their answers were inconsistent, but finally, one of the students told me exactly where to check. Once I knew the public hours, I started going to practice on my own.

Since I went snowboarding basically once a week, and I couldn’t do any other physically demanding activities on snowboard days—plus I was trying to lose fat and needed to do a lot of exercise—I only managed to go to the pool an extra one or two times a week. I couldn’t go every day like they did. When I practiced by myself, I felt like my progress was very slow. It felt like learning to swim has its own learning curve, and I was currently on the slow, upward slope of that curve. However, my familiarity with the water grew day by day; I was no longer afraid of it at all. Unlike the beginning when I was very cautious, I now truly enjoyed the feeling of being in the water. During those extra practice sessions, I often ran into those two students. Occasionally, I would swim with them. I even continued to see them at the pool after the entire course was over, but that’s a story for later.

Speaking of which, because this was a small class with only six students, and we had to arrive 5 to 10 minutes before the lesson started, we would chat and encourage each other during those few minutes of waiting. For example, one girl felt her progress was too slow compared to mine. Since we started together, she had witnessed my progress—from being unfamiliar with the water to truly enjoying it. I shared my experience with her, saying that my progress might not be because I was actually better at swimming, but because I simply enjoyed playing in the water. Because I was more willing to be in the water, it might have helped me learn, making my improvement more noticeable. I told her she could try to learn to enjoy playing in the water first, which might help her be less afraid. But then again, as I always say, slow progress in swimming doesn’t mean a person has a poor learning ability. It’s just that everyone excels at different things, so there will be slight variations. It doesn’t represent a person’s overall capability. Another student was there because his wife made him come; she wanted him to be able to swim with their children when he had time. I really liked the feeling of everyone chatting and encouraging each other before class.

Throughout the course, we focused primarily on freestyle, with some backstroke taught in between. Butterfly was skipped because it is too difficult for beginners. But why weren’t we taught breaststroke? I had always heard it was relatively simple and easy to learn, so I was quite looking forward to it. Just as I was wondering about this, the instructor told us before class one day that we would be learning breaststroke. By this time, we were already in the mid-to-late stage of the course. At that point, my freestyle level was such that I could only swim a few meters without breathing. I still hadn’t mastered the breathing technique.

The instructor first taught us the breaststroke kick. You can imagine it as a frog kicking, though some parts are slightly different. In breaststroke, the kicking motion starts with the legs together and pulled back toward the hips, knees naturally apart. Then, the feet turn outward, kicking out and back with force, before quickly snapping back together to glide forward. We practiced this with flutterboards. When the instructor saw my kick, he told me that when snapping my legs together, I should imagine squeezing something between them and make the movement rapid. This creates the backward thrust needed to propel me forward.

(Image of breaststroke kicking)

Next came the arm stroke. For the arms, you start with both arms extended and together in front of you. The palms sweep outward and backward, then the arms bend to “scoop” or pull the water toward the chest, and finally, the hands join in front of the chest to reach forward again. We practiced the arm movements separately first. The instructor corrected me, saying that when pulling back, my hands shouldn’t go past my elbows. Once they reach the elbow area, it’s time to bring them forward.

(Image of breaststroke arm movement)

Then came the breathing, coordinated with the arm stroke. In breaststroke breathing, you perform the arm pull first, using that force to lift your head out of the water to inhale through your mouth. Then, as the arms reach forward and the head goes back into the water, you exhale slowly. While exhaling underwater, you should keep your head in line with your body, rather than looking straight ahead at the pool or tucking your chin too much.

When teaching breaststroke, the instructor mostly covered the key points and movements. I felt that if I wanted a more detailed understanding, I had to repeatedly watch instructional videos online. In fact, the instructor recommended this, suggesting that we watch videos outside of class and practice more in the water to learn faster. I really wanted to master breaststroke because, while practicing these movements, I clearly felt it was indeed simpler than freestyle. For example, with the kick—when I swim freestyle, the kicking feels very exhausting. I have to kick rapidly and continuously to move forward and stay afloat, but I get tired quickly. Another point is breathing; freestyle breathing is still a bit hard for me. I often struggle to maintain balance when turning my head to the side, or I still don’t get enough air, which makes it impossible to continue after two or three strokes. Breaststroke breathing is much easier and more practical for me because you lift your head straight up, so there are no issues with balance or the difficulty of a side-turn. So, I searched for and watched a large number of breaststroke tutorials, combining the instructor’s key points to understand the stroke in more detail.

Finally, we were going to practice by putting all the technical points together without any auxiliary equipment—integrating the kick, the stroke, and the breathing. Simply put, you start with the arm pull, using that power to lift your head and breathe. Then, as the hands reach forward and the head enters the water, the legs pull up and turn out. Next, the legs kick out and back forcefully while the arms stay extended. Finally, the legs snap together quickly, and the body straightens into a glide while exhaling slowly underwater, completing one full stroke.

I tried my best to practice according to the movements I had learned, following the proper sequence. I could perform the complete stroke, but I found that I was either barely moving or moving very slowly. I also felt my body sinking. I asked the instructor to check if my technique was wrong. After watching, he said my movements were good and there were no issues. But why wasn’t I moving forward, and why was I sinking? The instructor said it’s like that at the beginning and would improve with more practice.

I spent about three lessons learning breaststroke. I reached a point where I could perform the stroke more or less completely, but I still didn’t move forward much and continued to sink. During that time, I also tried swimming with a “hybrid” style: breaststroke arms with a freestyle kick. Surprisingly, while I could barely swim any distance using proper freestyle or breaststroke, with this hybrid stroke, I could actually swim at least half the length of the pool, or even further. Looking at it from another perspective, this showed where the problems were: the breaststroke kick and the freestyle breathing. Of course, this was just a rough estimate; there were surely issues with my other movements too—for instance, my head position during breaststroke breathing might have been wrong, which would cause the sinking.

Regardless, while practicing breaststroke, I felt for the first time that there was real hope of me learning how to swim. 😊

I had been learning to swim for around three months, and by then I was already quite familiar with the water. Even without any auxiliary tools, I could stay in the water without feeling stressed. Although I hadn’t fully learned how to swim yet, I had gained a fair amount of understanding of swimming and done quite a bit of practice. I also knew how I should practice going forward.

As the course was nearing its end, the instructor once again took us to the deep-water area. At that point, I no longer had any fear of deep water. After all, we usually wore life jackets, and combined with my growing familiarity with the water over this period of time, it basically felt like going to the deep end just to play around. However, what caught us by surprise was that this time the instructor did not allow us to wear life jackets. That completely changed the situation. I still couldn’t really swim properly. In the shallow end, if I felt tired or couldn’t keep going, I could just stand up. But in the deep end, you can’t stand at all. If I swam a few meters, ran out of breath, and couldn’t stand up to recover, that would be a serious problem.

While I was still feeling uncertain and under some pressure, the instructor added another condition: today we were going to jump into the water without wearing life jackets. And not like before, jumping in directly from the poolside, but jumping from a diving platform more than one meter high. I was a bit shocked. This felt like it was beyond the syllabus. Even though I had been learning to swim for some time, I still felt like a complete non-swimmer. Jumping from a platform over one meter high into water more than three meters deep—would I even be able to make it back up? At that point, all I could do was take it one step at a time.

The two students I mentioned before, who came to swim regularly, seemed to have no pressure at all. They volunteered to go first and jumped in one after another, getting into the water and coming back up without any difficulty. One of them even asked the instructor whether he could jump from another platform that looked about three meters high. Of course, the instructor rejected that request. Then it was my turn. Honestly, even before stepping onto the platform, I was already hesitating. But since both of them had jumped, I had no choice but to go up first.

The moment I stood on the platform, everything felt completely different. Even though it was only a platform a little over one meter high, the visual impact was huge for someone like me who had never stood on a diving platform before. Looking down, the deep pool below was a dark blue, like the ocean, and it felt like if I jumped down, I might not be able to come back up. I knew my own swimming ability, and without a life jacket, I had absolutely no confidence that I could safely make it back to the pool edge. I froze on the spot. After more than ten seconds, I told the instructor that I really didn’t dare to jump, and asked whether I could skip it, or at least not jump from the platform and instead jump in from the poolside. The instructor said, “No. Today you have to jump in from the platform. And you can do it. Based on what I’ve seen of your swimming in class, your skills are already good enough to jump in safely and swim back to the side.”

What? I could do it? How did I not know that myself? So was jumping my only option left? I stood on the platform for a full minute, trying to mentally prepare myself. Fine, whatever. The instructor was right there—if I really started drowning, he would come and save me. At worst, I’d swallow some water. I probably wouldn’t die. With that thought, I made up my mind and jumped, entering the water feet first.

Based on what I had learned before, I held my breath, and just before hitting the water, I slapped the surface with both arms. I jumped in wearing goggles, but when I hit the water, the impact knocked them off my eyes. I couldn’t see anything underwater. Fortunately, I had held my breath long enough. I stretched both arms straight above my head and kicked freestyle-style, swimming as fast as I could in the direction my fingers were pointing. To be honest, I had no idea which direction I was swimming in, and I wasn’t sure whether I was heading toward the surface. But in the end, I did reach the surface, then quickly swam to the pool edge and got out.

After that dive, I really had a lot of feelings. First of all, even I thought I was very brave for being able to jump. It might not be difficult for other people—maybe it’s even something simple. But for me at that moment, it was almost my absolute limit. I broke through my limit. I just need to remember that feeling of breaking through, because it will help me a lot. Another realization was that even I didn’t know that, without a life jacket, I could naturally swim up to the surface in a deep pool and then swim to the edge. I thought I knew my own level pretty well 😂 Turns out the instructor really knew what he was doing.

Overall, this was a thrilling swimming lesson. It feels like after this experience, even when I face difficult things in the future, I’ll be able to toughen up and do them—as long as I remember that feeling of breaking through my limit.

In about two more lessons, the swimming course would come to an end. The students were all very friendly. Although it was a group class, not one-on-one, the instructor taught well, and I had become much more familiar with the water. I was actually a bit reluctant for the course to end, and by the time all the lessons finished, I still hadn’t fully learned how to swim. For example, I still couldn’t breathe properly in freestyle, my kicks were tiring, my breaststroke didn’t move me forward and I would sink, and I still didn’t know the proper arm movements for backstroke. The course ended, but my swimming journey was far from over.

When I was learning to snowboard, after a certain point, I had no choice but to stop learning or practicing because snowboarding is seasonal. Once the spring comes, I can’t do snowboarding. The ski resorts were also far away, requiring considerable travel time. Each trip was not cheap, usually costing 80 to 100 CAD, including equipment rental, and with gas added, it was even more. Buying a season pass wasn’t a small expense either. Swimming was different. Pools are open year-round; you just need to check the schedule for public swimming. Moreover, the swimming pool is inside the activity center where I go to workout, and the cost was included in my gym membership. I could easily fit in a swim while going to the gym, which made it much more convenient to practice swimming.

After the course ended, I continued to go to the pool one to two times a week to practice. My goal was very clear: I was determined to be able to swim.

At first, I focused on freestyle, since that was the stroke we had practiced the most during the lessons. But progress felt slow, especially in terms of coordinating breathing and kicking efficiently. I realized that if my goal was simply to learn to swim, it didn’t matter which stroke I mastered first. As long as I could move forward, breathe, and swim for a while, that was enough. So I decided to focus on breaststroke, which seemed more achievable for me.

From then on, I practiced mainly breaststroke, occasionally mixing in freestyle and backstroke. Focusing on breaststroke didn’t mean I was giving up the other strokes. During this period, I still often saw the two students I had learned swimming with before, the ones who regularly came to the pool. One of them came particularly often. Sometimes he even swam late at night. After chatting with him a bit, I learned that he was very busy—he not only needs to work and also needs to attend to study at university—but still made time to swim. He said it actually helped him feel relaxed.

At the pool, I often ran into the same group of people. Looking back, I realize I probably should have greeted some of them. Even though the pool is a semi-public space and everyone is focused on their own activities, a brief conversation occasionally wouldn’t hurt.

Breaststroke still had its problems: my forward speed was very slow, and I tended to sink. But I kept practicing this way. One day, someone sharing my lane asked if I was self-learning swimming. I told him I had learned a bit in lessons before and was now practicing on my own. He said I swam well and just needed to keep practicing. Even though I practiced consistently, progress felt slow. Especially with breathing: after two or three breaths, I felt like I wasn’t getting enough air, which was uncomfortable. I kept practicing and eventually realized that when exhaling underwater, I wasn’t emptying my lungs completely. Instead, I would exhale about 70% of the air, leaving roughly 30%, and then take a breath. That solved the problem of not having enough air.

I repeated this process over and over. Then one day, it was like a breakthrough—my forward speed increased, and I sank less. From that point, my progress became noticeably faster. It felt like all the practice had finally reached a tipping point, and suddenly I “got it.” About two months after the course ended, I had finally learned to swim. My breaststroke could move me forward properly, I could breathe continuously without stress, swim back and forth in the pool, and I no longer needed to stop to rest or worry about sinking.

After that, I also practiced freestyle. My first goal was to deal with fatigue from kicking. I could breathe, though perhaps not perfectly, but sustained kicking still made me run out of breath quickly. I needed to breathe often, like after each stroke. I learned online that freestyle can be done with a slower kicking rhythm. Instead of kicking rapidly with each arm stroke, I could kick just once or twice per stroke. I practiced that way. Initially, swimming a few meters was fine, but the farther I went, the slower I moved. I also struggled to balance breathing, and my legs tended to sink. In the end, I still didn’t fully master freestyle, but at least I had learned breaststroke.

I marked the timeline of my swimming journey up to June because that’s when I officially learned to swim. But this didn’t mean swimming ended there. In fact, swimming became my new hobby. After that, I would go to the pool at least once a week, often using it as aerobic exercise after a gym session. I also really enjoyed the feeling of swimming—or just being in the water.

Almost a year later, I suddenly found the pool closed. At first, I thought it was routine maintenance, but a few days later, a notice appeared stating that the pool had serious problems and had reached the end of its lifecycle. The pool closed, and I don’t know if it will be rebuilt or when it will reopen. Since then, I haven’t gone swimming much, though I still hope to find a suitable pool where I can swim again.

After I was able to swim fully in the shallow end, I wanted to make sure I could also swim fully in the deep end. After that, whenever I went to the pool, I tried to practice in the deep end as much as possible.

When going to the deep end by myself, rather than with the instructor during lesson, the lifeguard would check whether I met the requirements to enter the deep end. After all, someone who can only kick but not swim properly would be very dangerous in the deep end alone. The test required swimming from one side of the shallow end to the other. Any stroke could be used, but it had to be a stroke that required breathing. For example, breaststroke with the head constantly above water would not be allowed. I guess breathing in the water is an important skill for survival.

I used breaststroke to pass their test, and every time it went smoothly. If you came regularly and the lifeguard recognized your face, they wouldn’t test you every time; they would assume you could swim in the deep end. But one time, when I went straight to the deep end, the lifeguard told me I had to take the test. Fine, the test was simple, I thought, I’d just follow the procedure. I did two strokes of breaststroke, and the lifeguard said I had to use freestyle. I thought, my freestyle wasn’t very good—I might not be able to make it all the way across the pool. I told her that I often swam in the deep end, and that yesterday, when she was here, I was also swimming in the deep end. She looked a bit confused. Maybe she hadn’t noticed me in the deep end yesterday, and also, according to the rules she knew, the test had to be done using freestyle, not breaststroke. She didn’t seem to be trying to make things difficult for me; she seemed like a new lifeguard just trying to follow the rules. At that moment, I thought I might not be able to swim in the deep end today. But I still braced myself and did the test using freestyle. Surprisingly, I actually swam across the pool using freestyle without stopping. I felt completely exhausted, like I had used up all my energy. The lifeguard gave me a thumbs-up with both hands, and then I went into the deep end. Luckily, while I had been practicing breaststroke, I had occasionally included freestyle in my practice. But it was strange—why did I always feel like I couldn’t pass these swim tests (like diving into deep end from one meter high diving platform, as well as this swimming test), yet I actually could?

After fully mastering swimming in the shallow end, going to the deep end felt completely pressure-free. Swimming there felt no different from the shallow end, and it was even easier in some ways, as the water seemed slightly more buoyant. Now I was no longer afraid of sinking—in fact, even if I wanted to sink, I couldn’t. Speaking of which, that regular student came to mind. He also often swam in the deep end, but he frequently practiced diving. He would dive to the bottom of the pool to touch the floor. He and his companions often played a game where they would throw something to the bottom and see who could grab it first. He invited me to dive down with him. I tried, and the deepest I could go was about one meter below the water surface with my feet down and head up. I couldn’t go any deeper. He taught me a method of swimming in the opposite direction. After we entered the water, we first swam upward toward the surface to float. Then I could swim in the opposite direction to go downward toward the bottom. I tried several times. Finally, one time, my feet touched the bottom of the pool, which was more than three meters deep. But my head felt pressure and discomfort. I probably hadn’t adapted to the water pressure yet. I felt that I would stop practicing this for now and work on it gradually later.

I did notice one problem: as soon as I took off my goggles, I couldn’t swim very well. One time, I raced this student in the deep end to see who could reach the other side first. I was swimming aggressively, and water knocked my goggles up to my forehead. I couldn’t open my eyes, and I completely lost my sense of direction—I didn’t even know where the water surface was. At first I struggled a little, then calmed myself and swam forward with my eyes closed, occasionally squinting to check ahead. Eventually, I reached the nearest pool edge. I’m not sure whether I should learn to swim without goggles, but after thinking about it, I decided not to try for now, since swimming without goggles could risk an eye infection.

In any case, I am now able to move freely in the deep end and feel very confident. The only issue is the one I just mentioned: I can’t swim well without goggles. But there is a solution for that.

Actually, there is one very important skill in the deep end that I had not yet learned: treading water.

Although now I can float in the water without any pressure, and it is actually hard to sink, I still cannot guarantee that I can keep my head above water while staying in one place without moving forward. In a stationary position, I don’t sink further too much below the surface, but that doesn’t allow me to breathe freely since my mouth can’t be above the surface all the time. I feel that treading water is an important skill. For example, when my goggles were knocked up to my forehead by the water, if I could tread water, I could stop, adjust my goggles, and then continue swimming. But without this skill, I have to keep swimming forward, which leads to the same panic I experienced before.

Currently, I know three ways to tread water: eggbeater, breaststroke-style, and freestyle-style. Freestyle-style seems to be the most physically demanding. Thinking about how exhausted I got when kicking during freestyle, I decided to try another method first. I started practicing the eggbeater because it is supposed to be the most energy-efficient way to tread water. However, I ran into the same problem as before: my legs couldn’t move independently in coordination, let alone float in place. At that point, I even doubted whether the eggbeater was really the most energy-efficient method.

Then, one time, I noticed someone not far from the pool edge, just staying in the water without swimming. I didn’t pay much attention and continued swimming. After about twenty minutes, that person was still in the same spot. I still didn’t think much of it, just noticed he was there. Only when I swam past him, while exhaling underwater, did I notice his leg movements. He was using the eggbeater to tread water, and he had been doing it continuously for over twenty minutes. I verified with my own eyes that the eggbeater is indeed a very energy-efficient way to tread water. Using the freestyle-style, I probably couldn’t have lasted that long.

Practicing the eggbeater was not going smoothly for me and I didn’t know how to do it properly. So I switched to the breaststroke-style, since I was already familiar with breaststroke. At first, it worked slightly better than the eggbeater, but I still couldn’t sustain it for long. One time, I was struggling to tread water with breaststroke-style at the pool edge, and someone next to me seemed to demonstrate it naturally in the same way. Since it was a stranger, I just watched and didn’t interact, but looking back, I really should have said a few words to him 😂. This also showed me some patterns in how I interact with people—a possible entry point for social interaction.

I also wondered whether I should just keep practicing like this, or if there was a better method. Then I saw someone who came to the shallow end regularly swimming a “head-up breaststroke”—basically a breaststroke where the head stays above water the whole time. Although it’s still moving forward, the head stays above water. Could I start from here?

So I began studying how to do head-up breaststroke. The leg movement remained the same as in breaststroke, but the arm movement was for treading water, and the chin stayed near the surface. The arms and legs moved simultaneously, unlike regular breaststroke where one motion completes before the other starts. I first practiced this in the shallow end. At the beginning, I had to move my arms and legs wildly, like a frog scalded by hot water, just to keep my head above water. But after practicing more, I was gradually able to slow down the movements. Once proficient in the shallow end, I tried it in the deep end, and it worked as well. This is how I learned head-up breaststroke on my own, which also solved the problem of not being able to swim without goggles.

After that, I tried treading water in place using breaststroke-style. The results were much better than before, and after some practice, I was finally able to tread water in one spot. I even showed my progress to the student who regular meet in the pool. He gave me a thumbs-up and then demonstrated his own treading. To my surprise, he could maintain his upper body at the surface with very little movement. I don’t know whether this is due to physical differences or talent 😅. Regardless, I am very grateful to this student. I often saw him at the pool. After he became busier with work and school, I ended up seeing him less often. Every time we met, he would frequently swim with me and teach me something new. He is a very friendly person.

At this point, I had learned nearly all the swimming skills I thought I should know. I can swim forward while continuously breathing, without worrying about sinking, and I can tread water in place. In fact, there are still things to write about, such as swimming outdoors, but it seems more appropriate to cover those in a separate story. So for now, my swimming experiences in the pool will end here. If there are new developments, I may write them in a new chapter.