The Side Stroke

When I swim, the stroke I do most easily and most frequently is the side stroke. I never see anyone else doing this stroke, and my kids were not taught it in swimming lessons, so I thought it was outdated, a stroke no one does anymore. Curious, I typed the name into my search bar to see what information I could find.

I found YouTube videos on how to do it, and watched to see if I remember it correctly, with a scissor kick and alternating arm reaches. Yes, it was demonstrated there just as I remembered it. In one of the videos, the instructor classified the side stroke as a resting stroke, or a rescue stroke. Mildly offended, I stopped that video and continued to look for more positive information about my favorite mode of propulsion in the water.

As I thought about it, mulling over my arguments for why this stroke is much more than a “resting stroke,” I had to admit that it makes perfect sense. Of course it would be my favorite. I am more tortoise than hare, more Type B than Type A, more take a  break than break my neck.

This is not a secret, but it’s still a little hard to admit in such a straightforward way. It’s like saying your favorite subject in school is recess. The side stroke is the “let’s have coffee” stroke, while the butterfly or the freestyle strokes say, “let’s get down to business!”

I took another look at my search results today, and a little further down the page I saw an article entitled “Combat Side Stroke.”  It’s missing from the local pools, but the side stroke lives on. This is the stroke the Navy Seals use. It has a low profile in the water, it’s efficient, and a person can swim long distances using this stroke. A side-stroker can carry weapons or equipment,  or even tow a person along.  Like the faster strokes, it requires a strong core.

I sat up a little straighter. This isn’t just an easy, lazy stroke. This can be a powerful stroke. This stroke could save the day.

I don’t have much need for toting heavy supplies in the water, but I like the side stroke because with this stroke–unlike some other strokes that I’m not as good at–I can breathe.  I can see where I’m going. I don’t snort water or bump my head on the pool wall.  When one side is tired, I can flip over and continue on at a steady pace. It doesn’t look slick or professional (except maybe to the Navy Seals conditioning at the Y), but I’m using energy and strength to move myself through the water at my pace. It’s swimming.

I’ve made peace with my temperament and my swimming style. I’m not the over-achiever, I’m not the go-getter or the trail-blazer; I’m the thinker and the talker, the one coming along beside or behind. Everyone swims their own race, and I’m happy with mine–but I’ll have a new sense of pride in my slow and steady side stroke when I jump in the pool next time.