Regina Leader-Post

In the summer life is cool at the Wascana pool.

- Rob Vanstone (Rob Vanstone is the Regina Leader-Post’s sports co-ordinator and resident tog expert.)

Tubby or not tubby? That is the question.

I have lost 30 pounds, which is the good news.

The bad news: 50 more to go.

The objective is to eventually weigh 180 pounds for the first time since 1985, when Joe Paopao was the Saskatchew­an Roughrider­s’ No. 1 quarterbac­k, Jack Gotta was the head coach, and somebody named Donald Trump owned the United States Football League’s New Jersey Generals.

As it stands, I am slimmer, but not even remotely slender. So the aforementi­oned question continues to be front of mind.

This much is certain: I am enjoying a healthier, more active lifestyle, and the accompanyi­ng new experience­s.

Take Wascana Pool, for example. Somehow, the first 53 years of my life elapsed without spending as much as a millisecon­d in the pool.

That all changed three weeks ago, when I first went, er, swimming at one of Regina’s oldest recreation­al facilities. Almost instantly, I fell in love with the place.

It was so relaxing.

Everybody was so friendly. Nobody booed.

At 230 pounds, I will not be sought out for modeling shoots unless someone requires a “before guy” for a weight-loss advertisem­ent.

My non-designer XXL bathing suit really should include straps — sort of like the old-style profession­al wrestling togs.

(This is also the first time in my 53 years that I have written “togs” for public consumptio­n. There are landmarks all over.)

It would be a gross exaggerati­on to suggest that I go swimming. After all, I cannot swim. Let’s just call it water displaceme­nt.

Sure, I started taking swimming lessons in January, at the urging of a wonderful physician.

Dr. Kobus de Witt suggested that swimming would be therapeuti­c for an arthritic right knee and a sore hip. (Moral of story: Don’t get old.)

With that in mind, I signed up for adult swimming lessons at the downtown YMCA.

I was soon attempting to master the fine art of flutter-kicking.

Alas, that technique requires hip gyrations, so my attempts at learning to swim were unsuccessf­ul. I was splashing around far too timidly, in an attempt to avoid aggravatin­g a troublesom­e hip and a ravaged knee. Eventually, I realized that my attempt to learn to swim, per se, was futile.

However, I had become more comfortabl­e in the water than I ever imagined. I was also introduced to a floaty noodle that allowed me to remain buoyant.

The surprising benefit was an improvisat­ional form of exercise called, uh, whatever it’s called.

I discovered, somewhat by accident, that I could ponderousl­y propel myself from one end of the pool to another by laying on my back, using a noodle for flotation, and kicking my feet.

How’s that for using your noodle? I talked to Dr. de Witt about the situation and he encouraged me to continue flopping around in my unique way.

It must look ridiculous, but it feels great. I love it.

I have come to treasure my time in the pool, where I am able to ponder life while moving around and, surprise, losing some weight along the way.

This had strictly been an indoor initiative until July 8, when I neglected to look at my yellowed birth certificat­e and decided to ride my beloved bicycle (Loose Wheel) for the fourth day in succession.

I was quickly reminded of my age and fragility, so I turned to Plan B.

Upon bailing out on the bike ride, I drove to Leader-Post World Headquarte­rs and dropped off my twowheeler. I then returned to Wascana Centre and went to the pool.

It was absolute bliss.

As a bonus, the water level rose by only two inches when I entered the pool.

So there I was, in the middle of a mass of screaming, splashing humanity on a hot day, looking at the blue sky and savouring a novel experience.

Everything about it was a joy. The water felt wonderful. The knee didn’t hurt. Neither did the hip. Complete strangers struck up conversati­ons.

The lifeguards, a uniformly outstandin­g group of people, were friendly and chatty.

The dragonflie­s, hovering above the pool, were a fascinatin­g study as I hoped that time would stand still.

That was it. I was hooked. Virtually every day since then, I have spent at least an hour in the pool, kicking myself from end to end.

I am also kicking myself in another context.

What took me so long to immerse myself in the civic treasure that is Wascana Pool?

 ?? QC FILE PHOTO ?? Regina Leader-Post columnist Rob Vanstone — not shown diving — has quickly developed a fondness for time spent at Wascana Pool.
QC FILE PHOTO Regina Leader-Post columnist Rob Vanstone — not shown diving — has quickly developed a fondness for time spent at Wascana Pool.

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