The corkscrew stroke with 3 Kg floating dumbbell
I practice a swimming stroke that I have named the corkscrew stroke, of which I am the precursor. Over a total distance of 1,000 meters, I perform a regular alternation of 50 meters with the right arm followed by 50 meters with the left arm, each segment executed with a 3‑kg floating dumbbell. Throughout the entire exercise, my legs provide no propulsion, meaning that only the upper body generates forward movement.
3Kg-dumbbell crawl
I perform a specific crawl using a 3‑kg floating dumbbell, held alternately in the right hand and the left hand. Over a defined distance, I execute unilateral segments where each arm works independently, while my legs remain completely passive, providing no propulsion. Forward movement is therefore generated exclusively by the upper body, increasing mechanical load on the upper muscular chains.
The corkscrew: a swimming stroke like no other.
What you see here is a rather unusual swimming technique that I’ve named the corkscrew.
To my knowledge, I have never seen anyone else practice it. It is a unique movement, born from experimentation, adaptation, and a bit of aquatic madness.
Back when my legs were fully functional, I used them to warm up before the butterfly: a whole kilometer in a corkscrew, just to “get the machine going”.
But beware — for those who would like to try the experience: the first time, you quickly get dizzy!
Even today, this swim reminds me that there are a thousand ways to move forward, even by turning around a little.
Entering the water
Since I am unable to use my legs to get into the pool, I have devised a completely original method of entry… which I fully intend to propose at the Olympic Games!
Exiting from the water
After a long training session in the pool, I still have one last challenge: getting out of the water. So I developed what I call the tetrapod technique.
Swimmers who see me do this often wonder what kind of animal they are dealing with — a fish? a marine mammal? an uncatalogued specimen?
Scientists estimate that the ancestors of tetrapods began to leave the water between -375 and -360 million years ago.
My technique is merely a modest tribute to those Devonian pioneers: the very first fish who one day decided to crawl out of the ocean to explore dry land. I am simply perpetuating an old tradition.
Arms-only butterfly in pool
For me, swimming is not just a pleasure, it’s a message. A way of saying that people with reduced mobility can accomplish things that many would consider impossible – sometimes even more difficult than for those who have all their abilities.
I swim to remind those who park in disabled parking spaces “just for five minutes” that they are causing harm to vulnerable people — and taking away a piece of their dignity.
I swim so that those who think it is funny to snatch a cane or a crutch from a disabled person who walk peacefully in the street understand that they are not making a joke, but committing something that resembles an act of violence.
My swimming is my act of civic duty.
Each length is a silent response to injustice, a plea for respect.
Swimming with a cup on my forehead
As you can see in this short video, the exercise involves keeping my head straight and maintaining a cup in balance, despite the movement of your arms, the immobility of your legs, and the waves caused by other swimmers.