Welcome back, folks! You’re all tanner and more well-rested than ever before. But while some of you were jetting off to Bora Bora and Cancun (#boring), I went on my own all-inclusive vacation. I’m talking about a 25-yard private island with water as far as the eye can see. Yup, this summer I ventured to the one and only Malkin Athletic Center.

Let’s first take it back to the moment inspiration struck. A popular rumor circulated by many a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tour guide blocking my trek to the Science Center is that, following her son’s death aboard the Titanic, Eleanor Widener donated Harry Widener’s entire book collection and a hefty sum of money to construct the iconic Widener library with three stipulations: that no stone, brick, or mortar in the structure be changed; that a memorial room be built and supplied with fresh roses every day; and that every Harvard undergraduate pass a swim test. While Harvard at one point had a swim test, it predated Harry’s attendance at school and, “despite persistent rumor to the contrary, the 1913 trust agreement under which Mrs. George Widener agreed to build the Widener library makes no such demand.”

‘Obviously,’ you sigh. ‘Of course Harvard has no swim requirement. Think of the outrage in the streets from students who have never set foot in the MAC being told that the only obstacle in their way from their A.B./S.M. in Physics is to swim the length of Blodgett.’ I, for one, likely couldn’t even swim the length of jumping off Weeks Bridge to the shore — not that I would ever be so inclined to test that theory out. I’m content graduating without having completed our infamous traditions.

However, left with the embarrassment of a twelve-year-old in a rash guard on the hottest day of the year, refusing to get in the pool because he was afraid to doggie-paddle, I decided to exercise my intellectual vitality by learning to swim. I was deeply inspired, both by my desire to one day save an old woman who had fallen off a pier and by posters plastered in the MAC advertising a month of swim lessons. And thus, I embarked on a quest to learn how to swim at Harvard.

The Baseline

Okay, I do know how to swim — basically. If pushed off a dock, I would not require immediate attention. I can swim backstroke, breaststroke, and freestyle, and I can do laps in the pool, but I always open-turn. The farthest I could go was about 75 yards (3 lengths) before stopping, and that was pushing it. My treading water time was about 45 seconds, and I did so frantically and erratically. If I were to make it to 50 seconds, I wouldn’t be surprised if the lifeguard had to jump to save a potential drowning victim.

The Goal

Long-term, I want to be able to swim a mile continuously (1600m/1760yd), tread for 2 minutes without hands, and, overall, increase my comfort in the water from drowned sewer rat to Quincy penguin. (I think the level of Cabot fish is a bit too aspirational for someone who breathes like a beached whale.)

The Logistics

Despite getting rid of the graduation requirement, Harvard is amicable to the idea of its student population learning how to swim. If you decide to sign up for these now-optional lessons, find peace in knowing that you also get to pick your level of intensity. If you’re really scared of judgment or want some one-on-one time with an instructor, they do offer private lessons ($50/per lesson). Or you and a friend can get a discount on buddy classes ($45 per lesson each). Highkey cheaper than most of your CVS runs…

However, since my priority is price over my dignity, I opted for swim classes. These run about 1-3 times a semester, including the summer, and are much cheaper than private/semi-private lessons. Adult classes are $20/class and $15/class for Harvard ID holders. We met for an hour twice a week for four weeks, so the total cost came out to be $120, or about the cost of my mani-pedi at Boston Nail Bar.

Classes are offered at five levels, ranging from ‘I won’t put my face in the water’ (1) to ‘I’m doing an Ironman and I want to refine my freestyle stroke to last me 2.5 miles.’ (5). I opted for level 4: Stroke refinement, for people who have “moderate swimming abilities who are looking to do all four strokes and increase stamina.” Could I have chosen level 5? Probably. It just would’ve pushed me a little harder. Overall, I’m happy I chose 4, and the flowchart provided by Harvard Rec is a pretty good indicator of which class you should be in. To all the freshmen reading this, this is not like course registration; there is no one you will impress by overcommitting and jumping the gun. Trust me. Treat this like you would your math placement exam and be honest about where you stand on the scale from Math MA to Math 55.

It’s worth mentioning that while you can have classes at the MAC, mine were actually held at Blodgett. My mind was truly blown when I found out that as a non-athlete, I could swim where my D1 peers practice. That basically means that I got to be an athlete for a few days, too. No longer am I worried about my peers gawking at me in the mezzanine, looking for entertainment during their stairmaster session. Blodgett has no such viewing gallery and also has many more lanes (AKA fewer people for me to bother to split such lanes).

The Class

My class consisted of me, two grad students, and one faculty member. #adultswimlessons. We were all of a pretty similar swimming caliber, and each took a lot out of the class. I learned how to flip turn, swim butterfly (talk about a useless stroke), and various drills to refine my technique for my other strokes. I also learned how to use a swim buoy and more training aspects of swimming that I’m sure you would learn if you ever progressed past guppy at the YMCA or were on a swim team at any point in your life.

The Results

Now here’s the big question: did I achieve all my grandiose goals? Not really. The only water treading I did was trying to keep my face above the waterline during surface dives. And no, I still cannot swim a mile. HOWEVER, for someone who had never done competitive swimming, I thought the class was exceptionally useful in improving my water confidence (and confidence in even going to Blodgett), and it gave me a lot of tools/drills. I hope to use these to actually work towards my swimming goals on my own time rather than floundering around in the pool for 45 minutes once a week.

I know that my lofty goals can only be achieved through time and practice, something a four-week class cannot fully provide but can put me on the right track. But would I recommend these classes? Especially to any bored and overachieving undergraduates like me? Yes. If you are at my level of swimming or lower, I think they can provide you with an affordable, high-yield experience as long as you are willing to put in the work afterward. This won’t be a gem class by any means, but it’ll probably turn out to be the best unofficial elective you’ll ever take during your four years here. IMs better watch out—I’m coming to take the gold this fall and, hopefully, I’ll be able to recruit a few of you Olympians in the making along the way.