After calling this assisted living center home for a number of years, I still cannot round up enough residents who would like to go to a heated pool nearby for exercise weekly.

When we lived in south Florida, I was either in the ocean or our heated pool every day.

After going through spinal surgeries, and barely living through it all, I was told I must do water exercises daily. I loved being in the water and especially the ocean.

But then we moved to Winchester.

We loved it except for one thing. We couldn’t find a heated pool with a medical instructor.

It was years before Gene, my husband, saw an ad that said once a week in Winchester a large, heated pool was now available and the class would be taught by a trained medical person.

I was thrilled and showed up the very first day of class, my bathing suit under a heavy sweat suit.

There were 10 ladies that day at the 10 a.m. class.

The instructor really knew what she was doing. I had major restrictions because of two Harrington rods but I didn’t need to worry. She had studied ahead of time each lady’s limitation.

Happily, I jumped right into the pool.

Here is where my absolutely true story got totally funky.

Simply put, I float.

I can lay flat on my back in the water with my feet and head completely above water and stay there indefinitely. I could go to sleep there and stay afloat.

It is sort of like sleeping on a waterbed without the bed. The thing is, I cannot not float.

It has been one of my few claims to fame. My family would say, “You should see my mom, she can take a nap on top of the water.”

Basically, my feet will not stay down and that posed quite a problem in a class where you must stand flat on both feet on the pool bottom to perform the exercises.

I tried standing in more shallow water, which we thought would prohibit any upper body work. I stood where the water covered my shoulders, and within seconds, my feet would start their inevitable journey to the top of the water. It looked like I couldn’t do the class if my feet wouldn’t stay on the pool floor.

Finally, the teacher figured out if I held on to the side of the pool, with extreme effort, I could balance by standing one foot squarely on top of the other.

But there is more to this saga.

I always get the giggles at inappropriate times. I still do this today.

I started to giggle at me trying to keep upright in the pool. I could not concentrate on the exercises. I giggled even more.

And guess what? Laughter is contagious.

One by one, the ladies lost their concentration and started laughing as well.

Here they were, there for medical reasons and here came this ditzy woman who could not correctly do any of the exercises not because the exercises were too difficult but because her stupid feet would not and could not stay on the pool bottom.

By then I had messed up the class and it had come unglued. Nobody could do anything but laugh.

So the teacher ended the class that first day by asking us to walk back and forth across the pool and then to do it backwards.

I could no more do that than I could fly, which I was wishing I could do so the class could function.

In time, my love of the water and my determination to strengthen my body kept me going. We added an extra day a week and I never missed.

The teacher strapped weights on my feet and I performed with the best of them.

I confess when I tried walking across the pool I got to laughing so hard I almost drowned myself.

My goal there became to keep my two feet down and my giggle in. That goal has served me well in life.

Let me tell you why I think I float. I grew up on the beach.

Our house was on stilts on the beach itself. It was Heaven to me.

But our parents worried.

The ocean, the sand, the shells, the seagulls and the terns, they were our world.

We three kids were at home there and knew about waves and sand crabs.

But there was a big concern with my parents.

My dad knew my mother did not always accompany us when we played at the waters edge and even in the water.

One Saturday he said to me, “Come on Jean, you’re going to learn to swim.”

He walked into the waves carrying me and, just like that, he threw me into the ocean.

Of course, he was right there to help me but it scared the holy crap out of me.

I was probably five and my dad was right: living like we did one had to know how to swim.

Before our sessions were over, he said, “Now you’re going to float. It could save your life.” So he put his hand under my back and said for me to let my feet come to the surface. When I did this, I felt amazing and safe and my feet have been coming to the surface ever since.

I’m still trying to arrange an activity here where once a week we would go to a heated pool nearby.

I promise I won’t giggle and we’ll just see if my feet can stay on the pool bottom.

The view from the mountain is wondrous.

Jean Brody is a passionate animal lover and mother. She previously lived in Winchester, but now resides in Littleton, Colorado. Her column has appeared in the Sun for more than 25 years.