I used to be in the tippest, toppest of shape. And that “used to” feels like yesterday. But it certainly doesn’t LOOK like yesterday in the mirror. And let’s be honest, it was over 15 years ago.

In the mean time, I’ve had my bouts of disciplined exercise, although they’ve been short-lived. I was a short-lived, self-taught yoga disciple while living in a mud hut in the Sahel Desert of Niger, for example. Then I was an even shorter-lived boot camp/kickboxing fanatic while living in beautiful Charleston, South Carolina.

And then about five years ago, I began the endurance training of champions – motherhood. This is certainly not short-lived. Rather a regimen for life, alhamdililahi (thanks be to God!). Unfortunately, the fact that I don’t sit down all day long and am in continuous, joy-filled motion – lifting, carrying, folding, wiping, chasing, tickling – does NOT equal fitness. Physically exhausting? Of course! But it does not bring about the level of fitness that will keep me fit enough to be skipping and running wild after possible grandkids one day far in the future.

It has taken me a long 5 years to face that truth. And so the risk presents itself – in the form of an adult swim team, no less. A swim team coached by a three-gold-medal Olympic champion, to boot! Egads!

The good news is that this team welcomes all kinds of swimmers, from beginners to elite competitors. The uncomfortable news, at least for me, is that I still have to squeeze practice into a day of professional and personal responsibilities, don a swimsuit, show up at an outdoor pool in unpredictable winter weather, and make it through an hour of intensive non-stop drills.

I took the initial risk 6 weeks ago – facing my fears of ability, strength, motivation, and flab. My biggest fear, however, was that I would not stick with it – that I would disappoint myself again by initiating what might become another in a long list of short-lived endeavors. Today each drill, each stroke, each breath gets stronger by the lap.

Now that the sun is rising later, there is a glorious moment of clarity as sunlight pierces the water’s surface. And thus the risk continues – the risk of adopting this practice for the long-haul, one long, lean, sun-kissed stroke at a time.

Laurie Cook Heffron lives and plays in Austin, Texas, with her 2 small, sweet rascals and their pop. Laurie is also a social worker and works at The University of Texas at Austin, integrating research and practice in the field of interpersonal violence. She was a Peace Corps volunteer in Niger in her younger years and enjoys gardening, languages, swimming, and hiking with her family.
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