Ok, so I’m not big on “the first black (fill in the blank),” but I want to start somewhere. I was told we have a rich history of swimming in this country. And let me tell you, my father was a professor of Black Studies for many years, and I never heard about our rich swimming history. Rather, I heard more urban legends about drowning and buoyancy, etc. So I’m starting at this pitiful concept of the ‘firsts’ in order to get the word out there. We have been limiting ourselves out of fear for far too long.

1. A Black swimmer first inspired the term “underground railroad.” In 1831, a runaway Kentucky slave named Tice Davids dove into the Ohio river, his owner in hot pursuit of him. The owner eventually got a boat, but couldn’t find Davids. The owner was quoted in a local newspaper saying that Davids must have gotten to where he was going on an “underground railroad,” assuming Tice Davids was dead. Davids hadn’t died; he’d made it to freedom!

Ours is a rich history of swimming greatness. I’ll mention another first tomorrow.

If this young Olympian is dealing with issues like weight gain and improved stroke, we all have room for improvement!

There are interesting videos hiding over at youtube. Here’s a clip of Anthony Ervin tying for gold in the 50 M free in 2000. He showed such promise, at just 19 years old. Too bad we didn’t see more of him. I’m glad there’s youtube. The audio is not good, but the video more than tells the story.

My daughter rushed past me yesterday morning to get ready for her swim teacher job. When I peeked in on her, I saw her wrapping her head in plastic wrap.

Usually, we’re in such a big hurry to leave, she doesn’t have time to properly prepare her hair. After wrapping her head, my daughter put on an old wig. She had the wig pulled back into a ponytail.

I thought nothing of it; she wears wigs like hats before and after swimming.

But when I walked past the pool and saw her in the water teaching her class, I saw that my daughter still had her wig on!

Most of the swimming she does during lessons is treading water and guiding students. If if weren’t for the splashing, she’d be in no danger of even getting her hair wet.

She later told me that she was wearing the same wig she’d worn to play in the lake last summer. A picture of the wig slipping off her head, much to her chagrin flashed through my mind. I don’t know whether that happened or not.

But the thing is, after she got home, my daughter removed the wig. Her hair was still dry.

So there’s that. If you are a swim teacher or a water polo player, you could probably get away with doggie paddling in a wig. your own hair carefully preserved in saran wrap, of course.

This winter I did what many people do–I resolved to get fit. More specifically, to lose weight and have an active lifestyle. Those last 3 babies have taken a toll on my body.

I already had a routine established at home. I started the 100 push-up challenge, the 200 sit-up challenge, and the 200 squat challenges in the fall. We also tried some pull-ups, but it’s going to be a minute before I can do any of those.

Incidentally, I found myself at the Y more. It wasn’t to work out at first; I took my oldest daughter to work, (she’s a swim teacher), and one of my younger daughters to play basketball.

One of the Saturdays that I had a lot of time to kill at the Y, I read their brochure of classes. I found that they were offering a class called cardio tennis. I was game. Tennis, swimming and biking are my favorite three sports. I tried the class, and was immediately addicted. It was hard! And I felt stupid and out of shape. I like that kind of challenge.

The other morning, as we were finishing up the cardio section of the class and beginning the 5 minute abs section, the teacher started talking about his triathlon training. That’s another class they offer at the Y that I have been too scared to try for years. I figured I needed to work on my swimming before I would even attempt that class.

I was surprised to hear our teacher say he was a weak swimmer. He couldn’t even manage rotary breathing. My ears perked up. Then, when one of the more fit class members mentioned all the strange swimming you see in a triathlon, I wondered what has held me back all these years.

Then the other black women in the class started protesting. Here they come to the Y every day to work out, but “I can’t swim, so I stay out of the water,” I heard. I tried to tell one of them, “Once you get over that fear, you will be free!”

Look who’s talking, scared-to-take-the-triathlon-class-girl.

It is good to see other black women taking their health into their own hands, working hard on their temples. It’s disheartening to see them stop just short of the pool.

Those of us who want to change that pattern have our work cut out for us. What should I have said? What would you do?