Off the Deck

The 30 minutes or so surrounding my heat of the 1650 this past weekend at States were probably the most bizarre I’ve experienced in 35+ years of competitive swimming.

At first, everything seemed normal; I felt fine. Way out in lane 10, I could only see the man next to me. We started out evenly paced. Then he did breaststroke off the 175 turn. Kind of odd, yes, but it didn’t throw me off.

The breathing trouble that kicked in at the 300 mark did throw me off. It felt much like an asthma attack sans an actual attack — I couldn’t inhale or exhale fully, it was getting worse per lap, and I was increasingly dizzy-spacey. Plus, I thought I had been paying attention to the numbers on my card, but suddenly I jumped from 11 to 43. Did I just totally blank out on a 500+?!? Meanwhile, the man in lane 9, returning to freestyle, zoomed by me. Crap.

Back again at lap 17 (my counter successfully overcame a momentary struggle with the counter) tunnel vision was setting in and narrowing. By the approach of the flip on 19, I knew I had to stop or I’d black out. And I figured stopping at the wall would be less embarrasing than being pulled out of the water…

I’d like to take a moment here to give a shout-out to Janice, my teammate and counter, who did a fantastic job of calming me down at the wall. I’ve never stopped in a race before, and I was FREAKING OUT. Seriously, if not for her calm demeanor and soothing words, I doubt I would have finished the race. THANK YOU again Janice!

While clinging to wall like a barnacle, my main thought was “Oh well. Now I’m going to be at least a 200 behind everyone.” So you can imagine my surprise when after finishing (21:08 or something, not too bad I guess considering the big delay) there were people still swimming. After all, lane 10 is bottom seed.

Turns out just about everyone was having trouble breathing, and many others stopped as well. While still kind of whoozy in the warm down pool, the surrealism continued when I learned that Jeff, the math savant, had been DQ’d. What the *&^%$#?!? The call? He had “altered his suit during a course of a race” when he stopped to have his counter unzip the back of his tech suit because he couldn’t breathe.

Ken, another teammate (and steamrolling his way back after rotar cuff tears), wanted to stop because he couldn’t breathe but he toughed it out. The fabulously fast Teri Jean (also a teammate) stopped twice, but leaky goggles ruled over breathing trouble for her. Then I became really confuded when I saw Lady Comsa talking on deck — wasn’t she in the heat after me? She got out after a 300 or so…

I’m not sure if it was a bad chemcial mix/release, bad air, or even Teri Jean’s “the barometric pressure must have dropped precisely during our heat” theory, but all I can think of is what a goofy looking heat we must have been! I hope there weren’t too many age-groupers watching — we were setting a terrible example!

Until next time,
Rebecca, swim evangelist

When I was an age group then scholastic swimmer, the 500 free was the “distance” event for girls. Maybe this was done to cap meet length. For example, our end-of-summer season AAU District meet ran the 400 free, 400 IM and 800 Free relay on the first day. With prelims and finals on the same day, I recall swimming the 400 free final as the sun set; my relay leg close to 9 p.m.

Or, perhaps the whole “girls are delicate — it’s not right for them to exert themselves in distance events” notion was still lingering. After all, my generation was just one removed from “it’s not feminine to compete” thinking.

In any case, it wasn’t until I started swimming masters that I sampled distanceevents: 1500, 1650, 1000, 800 (as well as 5K/10K open water races). And then a funny thing happened — the 500y/400m became a sprint to me.

It all comes down to perspective. To survive and thrive (i.e. have something left to close after 13 100s) in a 1500 you need to pace. But only five 100s? Suddenly it felt ridiculous not to ramp up to speed on that first 100 and then hang onto to that pace.

In other words, sprint. Which to me, is icky. A 25 or 50? Sure, I can attempt an all-out pace. But hanging on for an entire 500? It really hurts. Alas, I have been avoiding the 500y/400m for almost two years now. It has become the new “200 free” for me, the former race I avoided at all costs because I thought I had to sprint the entire time…

Until next time,
Rebecca, swim evangelist

I have no delusions — I am not a sprinter. Never have been, never will be. I simply can not go from zero to one hundred in less than 50 yards.

Being a distance swimmer doesn’t bother me most of the time. Honestly, I really do love long freestyle sets and other endurance training like lifting weights. Open water racing is awesome in my opinion — no walls! The 1,500 free, 200 fly and 400 IM are my favorite events. And, all that extra time in the water means I get to eat more without guilt.

Relay formulation however, is one of the times* my lack of sprinting ability bothers me because unless 6,000 free or 800 IM relays come in vogue, I will never be on an “A” relay. There are just way too many people who throw down faster 50 and 100 splits than me, any stroke, any day, any time.

I still like being on relays though. Foremost, it’s very team-bond-y fun. Second, relays are the only time I am motivated to sprint. Set of 25s? I’ll work it, but I’m not gasping for air on every wall like the sprinters. Time trial 50s in practice? I straggle in last.

But put me on a relay in a meet and I’ll do my best 50 split ever. Part of it is the “no relay is going down on my watch” pressure I place on myself. I suspect the other part is just plain old meet-excitement, which never fails to get me going.

Bottom line? I need to get over the “A” thing. After all, I’d rather be on a relay than not, and it’s good to diversify a bit. Now if I could just think about them enough during practice to motivate me on sprint days…

Until next time,
Rebecca, swim evangelist

*Another time being a distance swimmer bothers me: it’s brutal to come back after being sick and try to race, oh say, a 400 IM.

One of my goals this winter-spring is season is to do more of the local, one-day meets. In the past I’ve mostly avoided them because: 1) I don’t like short course (too many turns!), 2) hanging around all day on an indoor pool deck really aggravates my asthma, and 3) the in/out warm up-race-cool down pattern makes me cold and thus tight.

Yet, these very reasons are now the driving force behind my new motivation to do more sc local meets. Let me explain…

1) Yes, I prefer long course to short course. But the short course season is way longer and there are more meets (as well as pools). So this one falls under the “suck it up” category.

2&3) These two share a common explanation — I need to “swim through” more meets to get used to swimming race pace under any conditions. So the air or water is too hot or cold, my asthma’s bugging me, the pool is shallow, or I just lifted weights/swam a tough set yesterday. Life is unpredictable, and I’ve decided that the only way you can handle the unexpected well is to consistently get out there under varying conditions.

On the flip side, three “positive reinforcement” motivators exist too:

1) My starts are terrible, short or long course! As a team, we practice starts only before a big meet (i.e.: states, nationals). And since diving off the blocks during non-practice hours is a no-no on most posted pool rule signs, I’m hoping that doing a bunch of events per day might coax improvement out of me in time for my beloved long course season.

2) I always learn so much from a meet, sc or lc. I try new events, identify technique aspects to work on, check in on my progress and more.

3) Any meet is a nice training break, both in the physical and mental sense. After all there’s only so much yardage you can do in the same pool with the same people before you go a little nutty. Meets offer a change of pace and opportunities to try new pools, meet new people and observe great technique by others — all very refreshing!

Until next time,
Rebecca, swim evangelist