I’m Tim Gorichanaz, and this is Ports, a newsletter about design and ethics. Today, something a little different: story time, a special for paid subscribers.
I can basically run indefinitely. Yes, my body eventually breaks down and I slow, but I’ve finished about a dozen 100-mile races, and I can see myself going longer.
This isn’t to brag. My point is that when I started swimming this summer, I assumed my well-honed cardiovascular fitness would translate. Instead, I found myself gasping for death at the end of each 25-yard length of the university pool.
My fingers curled on the ledge, I tried to get my breathing under control. I took my pulse, eyes on the big red clock on the pool deck, until my heart rate came down enough to risk swimming back across the pool. (Two lifeguards are on duty at all times.)
As I waited, the swimmers in the lanes next to me splashed my face every time they did one of their fancy flip turns. There they were, swimming hundreds of yards no problem, going up and down the length of the pool like unbothered fish.
I was determined to figure out how to swim like them.
Back in high school, I had completed the required swimming units in gym class, but high school was increasingly far in my rearview mirror. Apparently there were details that I’d forgotten or maybe never learned in the first place. I didn’t see anyone else in the pool struggling like me.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Ports to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.