In 2003, Girard was swimming in Indian Lake near his cottage which is close to New Germany, Nova Scotia when a boat hit him. The prop nearly severed his left arm and shoulder. After two steel plates and handfuls of screws were inserted, he worked through three months of physiotherapy before he could return to swimming. Then, in 2005, he slipped outside Halifax Shopping Centre and broke the same arm. Only then did Girard cry.

Swimming has always kept him sane. He swam through the tragic events, through layoffs, as well as through injuries. “I swim through all my stress.” After the accident “it was like I (had) to get back. The lack of swimming would have been depressing. I would have had no way not to be depressed.” Swimming is the “ultimate tranquillizer. The support and encouragement I got from my swimming buddies - priceless.”

This attitude to swimming came with adulthood. Girard was born in Ottawa and grew up in Toronto. At one time, Marilyn Bell, the first swimmer to cross Lake Ontario was Girard’s instructor, he recalls. As a child he didn’t like swimming very much and never swam competitively. As a teen, he moved to Nova Scotia and Saint Francis Xavier University in Antigonish to play football. “I warmed the bench more than I played, but unlike most of my teammates, I graduated.”

He later graduated from Dalhousie University and became a Social Worker. He started jogging to lose his football weight. “At 6'2" and 220 lbs I am probably Canada's largest Master Swimmer.” The more running he did, the more he learned his body could not handle the pounding of that sport and so he turned to swimming. Bonnie Pronk, now of BC, introduced Masters swimming to Nova Scotia in 1974. He attended her first meet in Greenwood, NS. In 1979 the Dalplex opened on the campus of Dalhousie University. It included Masters swimming in the membership package. Girard, then 34, joined and soon stopped smoking. “The choice between swimming and smoking is so easy.”

Eventually he met and married Stella, who holds N.S. records in butterfly. In their blended family, there are 9 children, 12 grandchildren, and 2 great-grandchildren. They live in Halifax and have owned their cottage on Indian Lake, Lunenburg County (near New Germany) for the past 22 years.

That July 30th day in 2003 was particularly beautiful “and I thought there was nobody on the lake.” Stella had gone shopping. Girard was thinking only of working on his open water technique and trying a new head position where he looked down instead of up. It was supposed to be easier.

He didn’t hear the 9.9 horsepower motor of the 14-foot aluminum boat. His retired neighbours were merely out for leisurely tour of the lake. Unfortunately, says Girard, “When you swim, you create your own noise. You have to be still to hear anything. I think it’s noisy to swim freestyle.”

He was 45 minutes into his swim when suddenly there was severe pain in his left eye and he was pushed under water. That hit to his head loosened some teeth and later required root canals. There was no pain but his left arm failed to respond. As the water filled with his blood, he realized there was trouble. Yelling at the boaters, he began weighing his options. Did he need a helicopter? Could he swim to shore? The couple returned to help. “Since they had almost killed me they were an emotional mess. [The boat operator] didn't know right from left and even said he couldn't operate the motor.”

Girard asked for a tow and to maintain a certain speed so he could float easily behind the boat. He was in such shock that all his thoughts were extremely clear. “I was actually quite amazed.”

He was extremely fortunate with his health care team. His orthopedic surgeon had a strong ego, says Girard. “He was the good mechanic. He would show the x-rays and tell me what a good job he did. He could have the personality of a wart as long as he could do his job,” Girard laughs.

His physiotherapist approached rehabilitation with the focus of getting his strokes back into shape, not just on general, day to day functioning. When Girard returned to training with his team, the Trojans, he swam using only his right arm, “Good ol Nigel,” Girard laughs of his coach, Nigel Kemp. “He didn’t give a damn. He said, ‘Swim with us.’”

Then about 18 months later, Girard was back in physiotherapy. In January 2005 he fell on ice outside a shopping mall, snapping his recently recovered left arm below the plate. “I kind of broke down and cried. What kind of message am I supposed to get here?”

Girard continued swimming. Swimming with one arm was better than not swimming at all. He felt the training would give him a jump-start on his rehabilitation.

These days, his swimming times are relative to getting older, he believes, rather than his injury. He has no pain but does feel limitations in his left bicep. When swimmers are putting in their laps, they occasionally hit each other’s wrists. Only when those accidents occur is Girard is fearful about swimming. Then he will stop swimming right away. His muscle memory of the boating accident is long.

He still swims in open waters, only now he’s smarter about it, he says. He swims with some Trojan Masters in a boat-less lake. In Indian Lake, he swims between two points in view of his cottage. “When my wife goes shopping I am allowed to go kayaking.”

He was lucky to be hit “by responsible Sunday drivers,” he says. Had he been hit by someone drinking while boating, his story would have been different, he says. “I figure that the probability of what happened to me is as great as me winning Lotto 649. The probability of it happening again must be as great as being hit by a meteor. I still think the odds are phenomenal. One swimmer, one boat on a huge lake intersect.”