7 February 2020

Published February 5, 2020 by rochellewisoff

The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Ulrika Undén

For a good time, click the frog!

Genre: Nothing but the Truth

Word Count: 100

THE LITTLE OLD LADY FROM PASADENA

Growing up during the Great Depression, did Maurine Kornfeld figure she’d have already climbed the stairway to Heaven by the year 2020?

Like many Americans she retired at age 65. Although she never cared for swimming as a youngster, she joined a Masters Swim group at the YMCA to stay fit. Setting her first record at age 90, she was recently inducted into the International Masters Swimming Hall of Fame.

When asked her secret, she replied, eyes twinkling. “If you can’t outswim them, outlive them.”

“Mighty Mo” is my new hero. I want to be her when I grow up.

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CLICK HERE to meet Mighty Mo

Voice of a Spanish Dancer – It’s Not the Destination but the Journey

Published May 11, 2015 by rochellewisoff

To see if my technique and form are correct, I recently watched a video on the mechanics of the flip turn. The instructor described the flip turn as the most efficient way for a swimmer, once she reaches the wall, to turn back and swim toward the other wall. Not only does it retain energy, but it’s the best way to maintain momentum.

The flip turn is one of my favorite things to do in swimming and, according to the online swim instructor, I’m doing it correctly.

I don’t think about mechanics while I’m in the water. For me there’s an ethereal quality. It’s a different world beneath the surface. I tuck, turn a somersault and gaze up at a crystal ceiling. Then, pressing my feet against the pool wall, I flip over and catapult myself in the opposite direction.

In a few months I will retire from my day job. In my younger days I viewed retirement as the end to real life where I would sit on park benches and feed the birds or languish in front of the television in a vegetative state.

Nowhere is either of those activities part of my plan. My first novel debuted last week. The sequel is due to be released in December. I’ve begun work on a third novel, the last part of the trilogy.

For me the flip turn is not only an enjoyable part of swimming but also a metaphor for my life. I’ve come to one end of the pool. With renewed vitality, I tuck into a ball, press my feet against the wall, flip and catapult myself into life’s flow.

Available from W & B Publishers

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And for those of you who want to know what a flip turn looks like:

VOICE OF A SPANISH DANCER – WRITING THE WAVES

Published February 9, 2015 by rochellewisoff

WRITING THE WAVES

A few years ago I made a terrible mistake that ultimately affected my health. I allowed my passion to write to replace exercise, including swimming.

One day I went for a routine checkup. My doctor, who had taken care of me through years of anorexia, told me I needed to lose weight.

“Pre-diabetes and hypertension,” she said, “Rochelle, I know you love to write but get off the chair once in a while.”

Diabetes runs rampant on both sides of my family. My father died from congestive heart failure as a result and another relative went blind. Neither prospect appealed to me.

Averse to taking medication I opted, with my doctor’s agreement, to control my sugar with diet and exercise. My elliptical trainer came out of moth balls. I found a pool and religiously counted carbs. My numbers, weight and blood sugar, went down.

Exercise in no way takes away from my writing time. In fact, the pool is my think tank where more than a few story lines have emerged. There are still sedentary days when I neither swim nor write as I fight my tendency to “awfulize” and tread the waters of self-pity rather than meeting the challenges head on.

This morning, in the lap lane next to mine, a young swimmer battles the water. I feel a bit winded myself as I watch her. Arms flailing, she works hard to keep her head above water. I wish I could tell her how much easier it would be if she kicked less and let the water carry her.

Perhaps one day, I’ll take my own advice.

Voice of a Spanish Dancer – You’re Never Too…Anything

Published September 30, 2013 by rochellewisoff

YOU’RE NEVER TOO…ANYTHING

Between 17 August and 1 September, two events touched my life as few others have. The first was watching 17-year-old Leahi Camacho become the youngest swimmer to swim the 26 mile Moloka’i channel from Moloka’i to Oahu. The second was Diana Nyad’s triumph in her 103 mile swim from Cuba to Key West.

Through a mutual friend of her father I was able to access a tracking map to follow Leahi’s progress. Although she’s unaware of it, when I swam my laps that day I went a mile with her.

While she had a lot of support, I wonder how many well-meaning friends or relatives told her she was nuts. Long swim for someone so young. Think about it in a few years, when you’re older. Stronger. More mature.

If this was the case, I’m happy she didn’t listen. She knew the risks involved and dove in headfirst to follow her heart.

On the flip side, when are you too old to dream? Is it when you turn 60? Or maybe when you’ve blown out the candles on your 65^th birthday cake and are eligible for Medicare?

It’s my personal belief when you’re too old to dream and learn you might as well plan the funeral. You’re already dead.

On that note, I turn to a new role model in my life. Diana Nyad. Four times she tried and failed to swim from Cuba to Florida. Did she give up? Not a chance. At the tender age of 64 she achieved her goal.

Does this mean I’m going to attempt a long distance swim, like my two heroes? I don’t think so, but the thought is in the realm of possibility. But, for the time being, I’m happy to swim laps in a much smaller body of water.

The pool is my think tank. Unfettered by gravity, my mind is free to tell me stories. With each stroke I’m closer to reaching my goals. To dream. To write.

“It’s never too late to be who you might have been.” T.S. Eliot.