I kind of feel like giving you an idea of who I am would be an awesome idea. After all, this blog should be some kind of personal.
I was born in the late eighties the last century, in a small town in the centre of europe.
Swimming (Photo credit: maraker)
At the age of 4 I had my first swimming lessons, I must admit: my mum rolled me up for swimming lessons about 4 or 5 times ’til I was about 6 years old. After every course I used to be able to swim a little, but then I forgot it again, due to the leak of continuos practice. Finally, I was put into some kind of “swimming zoo”:
Actually I was rolled up for the youth part of a big, good and useful organisation, but our weekly practice was more like having fun in the water with our “trainer” (who was actually more like a grandpa to us). As we grew older, that of course changed. I’ve had some really good trainers, ones that turned me not only into a really good swimmer but in a person feeling at home in water.
Swim training 14 (Photo credit: Michael Lokner)
Let’s skip some years now…
In 2011 I was asked if I wanted to specialise in diving. I had only little idea what that would mean, but as time allowed me to roll up for the course, I did.
At first, it all seemed so difficult:the theoretical part was so tough, everybody seemed to understand physical laws, our bodys reaction, and also about diving gear.
To me, everything was new. And it was so tough!
But fortunaltely, I kept going:
I asked other members from our organisation to teach me individually, I spent hours and hourse with the script I was given.
After passing the exam I felt awesome.
Again, it shouldn’t be that easy. The nights before my first dive I had some really bad dreams. I dreamed about loosing all my friends, because they went diving in my flooded house – they just went to look for something or someone missing and never came back up again.Finally, we were there: the day of the first dive. Of course, getting all my diving gear together correctly was another big problem I had to deal with. To me it seemed, my diving gear had to be treat differently every time. One time I had to screw to the left side, the other time it had to be to the right side. Besides, I was really scared of getting blown up by something exploding with all that high pressure.
After looking at my diving gear with some mentors about a hundred times, getting it all together, putting it away again, just to start all over, I finally figured out the how-to.
For complete understanding I must say that I never really got how to screw a screw in or out, nor ever understood where the heck right or left was.
Informal Recreational diving flag (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Another big part was done. Yeah!
Underwater for the first time everything was new. The teacher who joined my for my first dive was really old (I still don’t know how old he actually is, but I guess about 70) and underwater he looked like dead to me: he was so freaking pale. Luckily there was another diver with us – and as long as that diver didn’t react to my dead teacher I felt like I could trust everything being OK.
Next problem: my two buddys seemed to be in the perfect spot all the time. With me, it was more like an elevator. One time I went almost up to the surface, next I went back down into the mud. The only thing that kept me believing in my self, was my two buddies telling me I was doing quite well after that first dive – even though I could hardly believe what they said…
divemone 