Senior Living: The Joys of Summer Swimming

Nabil Anas
Nabil Anas

Global Courant

To live

A dip in the pool or a trip to the beach is perfect when the temperatures are high

Published July 8, 2023read for 3 minutes

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After swimming lessons at summer camp, courtesy of a Parisian Jew who survived the Nazi occupation, writer Mike Boone gets by with a respectable breaststroke. Photo by Getty Images

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It’s that time of year when everyone heads to the beach, lake or local outdoor pool.

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It’s hot. And there is a great way to cool down.

Kate & Anna McGarrigle recorded Swimming Song, a smash hit of the season:

“This summer I went swimming / This summer I may have drowned

“But I held my breath and I kicked my feet and I moved my arms around.”

That works right? At least it does, most of the time.

Raised in a mansion within walking distance of the local suburban pool, my daughter learned to swim before she started elementary school. And she’s been great in the water ever since.

My daughter’s nautical comfort is inherited from her mother. My ex grew up learning to swim and sail. She and her siblings are sailing enthusiasts and eagerly buzz along the water near where they grew up.

Now we’re getting close to me.

I had a different experience. In the downtown working-class neighborhood where I grew up, there was no community pool, no proximity to a shoreline. And every approach to swimmable water flashes me back over 60 years to water adventures at summer camp.

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It started bad.

An unfortunate experience—unexpectedly pushed into the deep end of the camp pool—had traumatized me early in my childhood. Then a series of swim consultants failed to teach a stubborn young teen.

The change came when my political-socialist summer camp (that’s another column) hired a one-of-a-kind swimming instructor. Jules was a French émigré, a Parisian Jew who had survived the Nazi occupation. He had a receding hairline, smoked a meerschaum pipe, and was over 10 years older than the other camp staff—all of whom were respectful and a little afraid of him.

Jules had a black belt in judo. He was a tough guy who knew how to handle a nervous little kid. He ordered me to enter the water. I obeyed.

Jules taught me how to float and how to move. This hasn’t turned me into an accomplished swimmer – nor a particularly enthusiastic one. Not an Australian Crawl, but a workable breaststroke that allows me to master the McGarrigle experience.

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“This summer I swam in a public space / And a reservoir to boot.

“With the latter I was casual, with the former I wore my suit.

“I had my bathing suit on.”

I’m not going to attempt informality. But my Old Guy swimsuit is ready. And as our climate is heading, a dip in the water is temporary relief from what should be a scorching July and August.

Let’s return to dry land and find out how an old coot, who turns 75 next month, should dress for summer.

The tops are easy. Short-sleeved shirts, jerseys or T-shirts, preferably cotton and definitely a light color like brown or baby blue. Now we venture south of the beltline, where things get complicated. In my distant childhood it was easy: cut denim, sandals or sneakers. No socks.

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Fast forward to the current state of my aging body… and a lasting semblance of vanity. My seventy-year-old legs are not what they used to be – both in flexibility and in appearance. Slow down walks. And veins are visible, which is not pretty.

Arnold Schwarzenegger is 75 years old. His legs probably aren’t what they used to be either. I’m not a seven-time Mr. Olympia. Not once. So decisions have to be made.

Shorts below the knee? Certainly.

Cuts that extend to mid-calf? A possibility.

Knee-high socks to cover up the age indicators? I googled knee socks and came up with this:

“High knee compression socks are specially made to reduce swelling and promote blood circulation between your heart and your legs. By applying pressure to your calves, the socks provide comfort and health benefits in a versatile and adaptable way.”

Awesome? Knee-high socks are the thing for this sweltering summer.

Health benefits outweigh looking like an old dork.

— Mike Boone writes the Life in the 70s column. [email protected]

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