In the summer life is cool at the Wascana pool.
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?