The other "S" word

Here in North America, if you swam in the 80s, there was only one make of swim suit: Speedo. The word became like Kleenex or Fridge; it didn't matter what make of suit you were wearing, it was always referred to as your "Speedo." Of course, this was a very specific type of suit: the racing suit. Before polymer materials and full body suits, (which are now all illegal), there was the advent of Spandex and the rise of the Speedo.

It used to be that in order to swim fast in a race, there were really only two ways to go: a paper suit or a really, really, really tight regular Speedo. The paper suit was dubbed that because it stuck to you like wet paper, stretched about as well as paper would (in other words, not at all) and lasted about as long as you would expect wet paper to last. If you made it through one swim meet with one paper suit, it was an accomplishment. Thus most of us suffered through wearing a suit that was about four sizes too small for us, boys or girls.

This was probably the most uncomfortable you would ever be in your life. The boys' suits barely covered anything, and while the girls' suits offered more coverage, you worried that at any moment, the fabric would give and reveal significantly more. Imagine if you will, being 15, standing up on a block, in front of family, friends and strangers, in a suit that leaves little to nothing to the imagination. Now, take your marks. In other words, bend down.

Exactly.

Speedo has (at least as far back as I can remember) been used as a derogatory terms, especially when talking about boys' suits. Ew, he's wearing a Speedo. Now, this never bothered me, as training suit technology had not yet really advanced much either. Basically, your "drag suit" was your old racing suit, which had stretched out and lost all shape, layered over other suits in various stages of disintegration. Because that's what chlorine does to Lycra: eats it. While we raced in uncomfortable suits that were too small, we trained in the least flattering versions of the same suits: faded, baggy and ripped with knots all over it. Gorgeous! So while I get where everyone else is coming from when it comes to looking down on the Speedo, that's all I ever grew up seeing. For me, the swimming trunks were worse: when they stuck to the wearer when they got out of the water, it was way less flattering. And that's saying something.

Now, technology has made racing suits that don't need a full four sizes less and cover more and training suits that last forever and flatter besides. But when I was training (where's my cane, so I can wave it at you while I say this), we had to deal with our body issues head-on and get. over. them. Because the flip side of wearing a Speedo on the block is wearing three that stretch down to your knees when you get out of the water.

If there is one thing that I am glad that swimming did for me as a teen was to remove any and all hesitation about wearing a swim suit in public. While other girls kept themselves wrapped in a towel, blushing and giggling, or over-compensating by flaunting and strutting, I was able to pull on my suit and just jump in the water. This did not endear me to these other girls, but I did have a lot more fun. I'm not saying I didn't have my issues about my body, but being a swimmer forced me to get over them, at least enough to get out in public and do fun things.