Todd Hubler
Swimmer’s ear was a common malady for me growing up. Whenever I put my head in the water, I usually would acquire another ear infection a few days later. This explains why I (barely) learned the front crawl.
So it’s a little ironic that I’ve spent a good chunk of parenthood on the decks and in the stands of countless indoor and outdoor swimming facilities all over southern Wisconsin.
This Saturday will mark the beginning of my 12th consecutive year as a swim dad. My 18-year-old daughter began swimming at age 7 on a summer recreational team, the Sun Prairie Piranhas; a year later she joined the DeForest Aquatic Club, a year-round competitive team affiliated with USA Swimming. She also swam for four years at Sun Prairie High School.
Not to be outdone, my 15-year-old son started swimming for the Piranhas when he was 6, joined DeForest the next year and now also swims for Sun Prairie High. I’ll roll out of bed Saturday at 5:15 a.m. to drive him to the buses that leave for the Piranhas’ meet in Baraboo. Then I’ll hit the road myself to meet him there.
Being a swim dad has been the single most enriching experience of my adult life. My kids and I have built lasting friendships through the sport. I’ve studied the rules, endured the emotions and treaded water through the politics as a volunteer official and event worker. And I’ve even jumped back into the pool after a few decades of remaining exclusively on dry land.
If I’ve been able to reap such benefits, imagine what competitive swimming has done for my kids. The sport has taught them discipline (daily practices sometimes begin at 6 a.m. and eventually become two-a-days that don’t end until 9 p.m.), sportsmanship (swimmers work toward setting personal records while still scoring team points), as well as self-confidence.
My daughter wrapped up her official swimming “career” last fall as a captain at Sun Prairie High. But now she lifeguards, teaches swimming and continues to work out in the pool. She’s being paid for doing what she enjoys, and that’s more than enough to make a dad smile.