Off the Deck

For the past few months I’ve undergone a big experiment: a three-month break. To review, the “rules” were:

1) I could swim, but only if I didn’t feel as if I was specifically “training”
2) No weights
3) No competition
4) I could do any other physical activity I wanted to but I had to stop if I got tired, or even skip it entirely if I wasn’t in the mood to exercise on that day

Back in May, staring down a three-month break during my beloved outdoor long course season terrified me. My biggest fears? I was afraid of getting out of shape, losing my feel for the water, blowing up to the size of a house and missing out on the action.

Luckily, none of the above happened this summer. Even better? I learned a ton of stuff. So much, that I’ve decided to share, but I have to break it into three sections: Mind, Body and Spirit. Today I’ll start with lessons on spirit.

I couldn’t see it for what it was then, but now I know — by May I had definitely hit rock bottom. My biggest clue should have been that I wasn’t motivated to compete, especially because the season I look forward to all year was right around the corner. Even the idea of swimming in the famous Indy natatorium failed to inspire me this past spring.

I suspect one can keep going for awhile when the body or mind is failing as long as you have a strong spirit. But when you lose heart, well, now I know lesson #1 from my summer break — it’s a red flag signaling that things need to change. Pronto.

Admitting that you’ve lost your spirit is tough to do. It’s uncomfortable to say it out loud in so many words to other swimmers. It’s 1,000 times more painful to admit it to yourself. But here’s where lesson #2 comes in — if you face it, you can start dealing with it. And then it will go away faster. Straggling along, which I now realize I had done all year, really doesn’t work.

What drained my spirit? Several related things (many to be discussed during “mental” and “physical” lessons learned posts) that all fed into each other. Spirituality speaking though, watching my team fall apart and the subsequent continual struggle to find adequate pool space and time took a big toll on me this past year. By May, I just didn’t have any fight left in me.

Perhaps this is why spiritual lesson #3 was one of the biggest to surface this summer: to feel best and do your best, you really need to find your own pathway. Absolutely, I prefer to train with a team led by a coach in a fantastic facility. But if those things are no longer available, then you need to stop forcing the old ineffective ways to make room for new opportunities. This summer I’ve learned that ad hoc workouts are just fine. That there are many other pools and groups of swimmers out there. I also now see that there are benefits to mixing up training — team practices, solo swims, small swimmer-led workouts, rest days, cross training and so much more.

Next up? “Mental” lessons learned this summer…

Until next time,
Rebecca, swim evangelist

If you’ve logged the “magic number” of 10,000 hours in swimming, then according to an essay by Malcom Gladwell, then maybe you are!

Although the essay (and the theory) have been circulating for a few years now, it was news to me when I heard it mentioned the other day on the radio during an a.m. talk show. Apparently it takes 10,000 hours of “deliberate practice” to master a skill, such as playing the guitar.

After ruling out “breathing” (it’s automatic, and to be honest, thanks to asthma and allergies I don’t feel I’ve mastered breathing) and sleeping (I am not sure this should be considered as a “skill,” and it’s only been during these past few months, thanks to many changes like getting on the Vitamin D wagon and taking melatonin, that I feel like I’ve become a “good” sleeper), I assumed that swimming would probably be my only 10,000-hour “activity.”

In fact, my gut instinct was that I would be waaaaaaayyyy over 10,000 hours in the swim department. But I didn’t have an immediate sense of how 10,000 hours measures up (remember: I am math-challenged.) For example, how many years would that equal in for a full time job? I had to wait until I had pen, paper and calculator in hand.

Now, of course I did a rough estimate. I found it easiest to go by season then by years spent completing that type of season because my hours in the pool varied (and still does) per time of the year. I also automatically subtracted weeks, again based on season, to cover situations like vacation, recovery, illness, pool closure, etc.

In a nutshell, I hit the 10,000 mark while still growing up as an age-grouper, and that was just from the fall, winter and spring seasons. If I add in age-group summer seasons, scholastic seasons, and my masters years, well, we’re looking at a really big estimated total — good thing I really like to swim!

In some ways it was weird to realize that as a kid, I basically had a “full time job” of swimming during the summers — especially when you consider the additional hours spent doing dryland stretching and weights, commuting to and from practices, and competing (I only tallied practice hours).

Now I’m wondering about this: there still has to be some other element besides hours that creates “mastery” though. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I can sort of explain it this way: there is a big difference between “talent” and “proficiency.”

Maybe the elements vary per skill. Michael Phelps, for example, has certainly put the hours in. As have many of his competitors. But it’s got to be hours combined with factors such as uncanny feel for the water and physique that launch Phelps into greatness.

Still rumminating…

Until next time,
Rebecca, swim evangelist

This morning, some of my fellow team refugees (our main pool is closed for three weeks) and I hit an outdoor club for an ad hoc practice. A water-cize class must have been set to follow us into the pool because a boom box, noodles and “wave gloves” were being pulled out of a on-deck storage closet by what certainly must have been an instructor.

In the locker room, there were several ladies of a “certain age” who were chattering away. Many of them were changing into skirted suits. Sudddenly it occured to me — despite spending a good portion of my life around water, I’ve never thought much about this style of swimwear. More importantly, would I some day end up in something similar?

Luckily, that thought was quickly countered by the following one: Based on the assumption (all mine, of course) that I’ll swim and compete until I die, I’m also going to assume that I’ll continue to wear some sort of racing-type swimsuit for the rest of my days. Additionally, I hope to age gracefully and thus successfully evade the whole “modesty cut” line of training/racing suits as well.

Another comforting thought: I really haven’t gotten that crazy with the suits in the past, so I don’t see myself suddenly sporting one with a skirt. Too out of my league. With the exception of a tankini here and there and a bandeau-style “sun” suit back when they were all the rage in the early ’80s and we really didn’t care about sun exposure, I mostly wear suits to train in. My self expression springs from the prints and colors I favor — dragons, skulls, amphibians, etc. against black, dark purple, silver, acid green, etc. In fact, the lovely Teri Jean (who adores Hawaiian-style florals in bright colors) has accused me of being from “the dark side of swimming.”

Of course, having written all of the above, maybe I’ll wake up one day during my 82nd year craving to put on a floral skirted suit and attend a water aerobics class. You just never know until you get there, right?

Until next time,
Rebecca, swim evangelist

This is my favorite time of year — the dog days of summer. Hot, dry, with that sleepy-quiet hush to the afternoons. They’re just made for being on deck of an outdoor 50m pool.

And that’s exactly where I spent the majority of my childhood summers — in a pool, on a pool deck, or heading to/from a pool. Of course, things in the swim world have changed vastly since I was an age-grouper. But it’s always fun to recall what was “in” or “the method” back then…

–No goggles: That’s right, when I first started out no-one wore goggles. If the chlorine levels were particularly bad at practice, we’d put milk in our eyes to take the sting out. (And to get rid of that chlorine-afied “halo-around-lights-effect”).

–Shoelace suit adjustment: Before the advent of lycra, suits didn’t fit so well. So we (the girls that is) tied a shoelace through the back of our straps to tighten them and make our suit fit a little better.

–Breakfast of champions: Maybe not so much. After a two hour a.m. practice I ate two pop-tarts and a juice box. And by “juice” I mean Hi-C, not actual juice. Don’t even get me started on swim meet “fuel.” O.K., just one tidbit: we ate dry jello between heats, prelims and finals. Yes, that’s right. Jello in it’s powered form. Straight from the box. O.K., just one more — McDonalds sponsored our big meets, so you would dash over to their table and snag one of those breakfast danish-things (do they still make them?) after warm-ups and before your first race.

–Card games: No high-tech entertainment for us! We spent hours between heats and prelims and finals playing every card game known to man. It was particularly exciting when someone had learned a new one and was ready to share how to play it.

–The Bullpen: First you’d wait for your event to be announced over the loud speaker. Then you huddled with everyone entered in your age-group under a large open-air tarp behind rows and rows of folding chairs. Some saint of a volunteer would then call each of us out by name and seat us per heat and even lane. As one heat was marched out behind the blocks, you’d move up a row. It was sort of controlled chaos during prelims. Finals were better because there was always way more room in the bullpen, especially before distance events. Of course, less ambient mindless chatter and row jumping meant more opportunity to focus on the race at hand and get nervous. In any case, bullpen time was always an excellent chance to catch up with all of your friends from other teams.

Yardage Yardage Yardage: Yep, I grew up in the “more is more” era of swimming. Although we focused exclusively on drills and technique for a few weeks in the fall and spring, summer was all about getting those meters and yards in at two-a-day practices five days a week (weekends were spent at meets). We’d practice starts a bit before the last meet of the summer, but forget any other technique work. You were expected to work on turns, strokes etc. while swimming sets.

Today, I have to say “Hooray!” for improved suit, googles and cap technology. I’m glad we know so much more about nutrition now too (how was I not cycling through a constant sugar high-crash cycle back then? Or was I?) and how far a little rest and technique work goes. Also, the “it’s up to you to figure out your heat and lane” masters approach at meets works for me as a masters because I really prefer to go straight from the warm up pool to the blocks. But isn’t nostalgia great sometimes?

Until next time,
Rebecca, swim evangelist

True Confession: I like to read T.V. Guide. Granted, I never read it from cover to cover. But I like the updates on the few shows that I do watch, and I love reviewing the “new fall shows” chart and blurbs at the end of each summer. (Hope springs eternal that some new show, any new show, will be good and earn a spot on my regular roster.)

This week’s issue had a big spread on Dancing with the Stars. I’ve never seen an episode — not my speed. Thus, I was about to flip the page when Natalie Coughlin’s picture caught my eye. Of course, I had to read the article now.

Apparently Natalie is going to be on the Dancing with the Stars this fall. Foremost, I admire her bravery. I’m not sure I’d want to be on any reality show, let alone one where I could wipe out repeatedly while being at risk for a serious wardrobe malfunction.

Having said that, I think she’ll be pretty good contestant. Natalie is athletic, proabably has good balance from all that surfing, and obviously she’s very attractive and personable — always a plus in T.V. Land.

I don’t think I’ll watch this season though. I doubt I could sit through 95% of an episode bloated with commercials, recaps, etc. just to check out if Natalie can dance. Unfortunately my behavior is contrary to what the producer expects. It’s clear from the article that he pick stars who will draw certain and new (that’s the key) audiences to the show.

Don’t get me wrong — I am thrilled that swimming is becoming more popular and visible in the USA, even during non-Olympic years. I welcome opportunities to see more of the national swimmers, particularly those who do not have huge sponsorships yet since additional income would allow them to train sans financial stress.

It’s cool to have a swimmer on a national reality show. Natalie will be an excellent ambassador of the sport. And for once, I am really happy about the continual mass-media and technology merger. I am sure I can keep up-to-date with Dancing with the Stars results without ever glimpsing an episode!

Until next time,
Rebecca, swim evangelist

All this thought (and struggle) of late to find decent training conditions for consistent 90-minute sessions has me ruminating on past pool/team situations.

I had to go all the way back to age-group summer seasons, but I think the practice set-up then was close to ideal. And now that I think about it, it was a little unusual for a locale such as upstate NY. In the mornings we swam for two consecutive hours, the first one long course and the second short course. In the afternoon, we swam short course again for an hour. Oh — and since it was a small town, most of us biked to and from each practice.

Of course, as an adult, I don’t have 4+ hours a day available to train. But I sure would like that two-hour long-short course mix back in the morning. Totally worthy, even if as early 5-7 a.m.

Sigh…I’ll keep you posted on my current project “where, when and with who to swim this fall-winter-spring.” There is a strong possibility that my current pool-hopping ways will continue into 2010…

Until next time,
Rebecca, swim evangelist

WARNING! I am about to make a very un-swim-evangelist statement:

It never fails. Whenever I try to get in a workout during a “lap swim” session at a pool, everyone wants in on my lane. And it annoys me.

Maybe I wouldn’t be such a lane-hog if the people who entered my lane were close to my pace. At the very least, this scenario might cut down on the whaps and kicks sustained to my torso, limbs and even head per 50 as I pass each time. The situation also could be improved if everyone knew and observed lane ettiquette. Such as, “don’t assume I see you. Let me know that you’re getting into the lane and if you intend to split or circle.” And, “don’t push off the wall right before I flip unless you enjoy being run over.”

Yes, I admit it. I can be a swim snob: I don’t like sharing a lane with non-competitive swimmers. But I’ve been driven to this position by people who first opt to join my lane despite previewing both my pace and preference for strokes like fly, then proceed to get mad at me because 1) I pass them every 50, or 2) I am splashing them (It’s a POOL. Filled with WATER. If you get in, it’s pretty hard to avoid getting WET.) Most vexing? There can be one person per lane, or even FREE lanes, yet the newcomer to the pool inevitably jumps into my lane.

I don’t get it. Are non-competitive swimmers a bad judge of their own pace? Do I seem easy to swim with since I am usually the most efficient person in the water? Am I less threatening as a female? Does my lane seem more spacious than others because I am small?

For now, until I develop new or additonal defensive manuevers, a wall-lane remains as my first choice. Yes, it’s turbulent, but at least no-one ever gets in with me because they know they’d be stuck next to the wall. I know, I know, not very “share the pool.” Bad evangelist!

Until next time,
Rebecca, “I still need to embrace all swimmers” evangelist

I don’t watch a lot of T.V. regularly, but some nights you just want to stop thinking for an hour or so and just be entertained. Of course, whenever I enter “I just want to watch something” mode, it never fails: I find a show that I’ve seen only once before, yet that evening’s broadcast is that very episode. Beyond vexing.

This summer however, I have developed a new appreciation for re-runs. Except that in this case, the re-runs have all been swim meets and “Pieces of Eight” Olympic swimming recaps aired on the Universal Sports Network.

Not only are these repeats entertaining (no matter how many times I’ve seen a particular event broadcasted, I still squeal “Oooohh! Swimming!” every time I click on the T.V. and see a pool), but I’ve learned a lot from them.

Perhaps the most appealing aspect of these re-runs? Now that I know the outcome of each race, I’m no longer 100-percent focused on the favored competitors. I can check out more of the behind-the-blocks action, get to know the rest of the field (which served as an excellent pre-Worlds tutorial this summer), listen fully to the commentary, and best of all, really concentrate on technique elements. For example, I’ve counted strokes, analyzed turns, noted breathing patterns, checked out various hand positions on a variety of breaststrokers, and much, much more. Geeky? Yes. Helpful and applicable to improving my own swimming? Yes!

Beyond the educational factor, I find many of the race repeats as uplifting as the first time I watched them. Case in point: the men’s 400 free relay from Beijing. That race will never get old, and what could be bad about a little daily hit of inspiration?

Until next time,
Rebecca, swim evangelist

Fundraising via swimming is a good thing. In this case, swimming two, one-hour shifts as part of a 24-hour relay was a really good thing.

Not only did our relay meet the key objective of raising money (nearly $1,000) for a worthy cause, the Molly Bloom Foundation (mollybloomfoundation.org, but I feel as if I accomplished the personal goal of “get outside my usual swim box.”

Here’s why:
–I swam in a new pool, something which never gets old for me. Before the event, I didn’t even know it existed. The Skyline Tennis and Swim Club turned out to be a charming little facility. After crossing a foot bridge over a little stream to enter, you faced a grassy area dotted with picnic benches and shade trees as well as three pools and what is probably a concession stand during normal hours in the aquatics area. It had a nur-nur feel and thus brought back many childhood memories for me.

–I met swimmers of all ages. Some ladies “water aerobized” their hour away. Age groupers asked me to race them and then told me about their goals for the upcoming season. Both times I swam with one of the lifeguards who was swimming two hours on, one off over, the 24-hour period. Plus, I caught up with members on my own team that I hadn’t seen in a awhile.

–I swam at a weird hour. Absolutely, the kick-off leg I did at 10 a.m. was pretty par for the course. Swimming a few hours later than the norm in the morning wasn’t a problem. In fact, it was kind of nice to have enough time to digest a regular breakfast vs gulping down a drink of some sort pre-a.m. swim. The 10 p.m. hour turned out to be just as fun. I was worried I’d doze off before even diving in since I normally go to bed early (got to get those early workouts in!) but the cool air and enthusiasm for swimming energized me. Once in the water, it was really cool to be surrounded by an inky black sky with stars. And, I really liked the glow in the dark bracelets event organizers gave us to wear!

–I did my first “double” since my age group days. Doubles were the norm during my summer and scholastic seasons. As a master, I figured this might not be the best approach for an aging body, even though I know some masters who successfully incorporate them into their trainiing regimen. Honestly though, after some initital stiffness during the first 300 yards or so, I was fine. Good to know my body is stronger than I suspect!

Until next time,
Rebecca, swim evangelist

This Saturday I’ll be part of a relay that swims for 24 hours straight to raise money for the Molly Bloom Foundation.

You might recall that name — in May of 2006 promising teen swimmer Molly Bloom sustained catastrophic injuries while entering a limo on the night of her senior prom night. Since then, Molly has made an amazing recovering and is back to swimming and even new sports.

Today, the foundation that bears her name helps athletes get their lives back on track after a life-changing accident via sports. The Swim-a-Poolooza is just one fundraising method the foundation pursues.

As of today, we have 12 swimmers on our relay, each set to swim two, one-hour shifts. To make it easy, most of us have the same hour time slot. For example, I’ll be swimming the 10-11 a.m. and 10-11 p.m. sessions.

I’m looking forward to being outside of my usual swim box for bit this weekend — meeting other swimmers of all ages, trying out a new pool, swimming outside at a weird p.m. hour, and more. The best part? Doing something I love to benefit others. Absolutely no problem at all!

In addition to my entry fee of $25, I’ve been trying to collect donations. I wish I had started my effort a bit sooner though. Maybe this year I’ll set my “benchmark” level to beat in ensuing years! If you’d like to make a donation today, visit www.mollybloomfoundation.org.

Of course, I’ll be back soon with a full report about the event!

Until next time,
Rebecca, swim evangelist