Go, Girls, Go!

By TAD BARTIMUS

"What have you done to yourself?" I burst out, causing my friend to grin.

"Exercising," she said, clearly pleased I'd noticed. "I never miss. Seven days a week, no matter what, I go swimming."

These girls don't come to the beach to sunbathe; they surf, boogie board, paddle long canoes.

I was astounded. I clearly remembered the early days of her new regimen, when mostly we'd go to the pool to eat the delicious lunches she always brought. We hardly got our suits wet, just sat on the edge and dangled our feet in the water as we talked. But in the three months since I'd seen my gray-haired friend she'd lost 20 pounds on a five-foot-two frame. What happened?

"I realized I liked it. I started out barely able to get to the other end of the pool. Then one day I did a lap, the next week I did two. The snorkel mask and breathing tube helped. Now I just keep going."

Like me, this woman grew up in the pre-Title IX era, when girls sat on the sidelines and cheered boys' team sports. We lived in our bodies but did not celebrate them, often feeling awkward and uneasy in our own skin. In college I was required to take just one physical education class and I hated it. Nothing moved in tandem, there was no early athletic imprint on my brain to tell me how to climb ropes, tumble on mats, jump over bars. It was the rare girl who was encouraged to regularly play tennis and golf; learning to dunk baskets and hit grand-slams was as out of reach to me as a coveted appointment to the all-male Air Force Academy. I was a young klutz who, in middle age, turned into a couch potato.

Fortunately, things change. Inspired by my friend's commitment, I started swimming again. One day, debating whether to freeze by inches or just jump in, some of my favorite teenagers showed up, bounding toward me like young gazelles, their long legs pumping, muscled arms swinging, unself-conscious in their own grace and beauty. When we embraced I could feel the taut strength of their pectorals and biceps, the energy flowing through their limbs.

These girls don't come to the beach to sunbathe; they surf, boogie board, paddle long canoes. Since sixth grade they've excelled in school-sponsored volleyball, cross-country track, basketball, and softball. Staying healthy, being athletic and competitive, is as natural to them as breathing. They sweat, they strain, they reach deep down inside themselves and pull out more, each striving for their personal best. But they also compete as teammates, learning firsthand that a whole can be greater than its parts, learning rules that work in the boardroom as well as on the playing field.

Even better, their bodies are important to them for what they can do, not just how they look. And they are fearless; a15-foot wave bearing down on them is fun! A six-mile cross-country race is a walk in the park! They crave the outdoors, reveling in a natural world of water, forest, fresh air. Being an athlete gives them an emotional balance, teaches them that their bodies are just as important as their minds and need to be tended to with the same vigilance.

This is what my friend, in her sixth decade, began to learn the day she swam that first lap. Which is why, as public schools open for another year, I am delighted to pay taxes to support Title IX. Just by showing up, every girl in America is a winner on the ball field, cinder track and hardwood court. If they don't take advantage of this equal opportunity, they lose.

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