Counting Laps

Counting laps in the pool is difficult.  I lose track.  I suppose it's not such a bad problem to have.  I'm doing so many laps now, I can't keep track.  That's a good thing, right?

My last lesson with Sheila was on the 14th of December, our second session learning the art of breathing mid-stroke. Because of the holidays, I didn't make it back to the pool until January 3rd.  I was getting nervous, worrying that I'd forget my lesson even before I actually learned it. Coach Scott said we needed to be doing a 1/2 mile without stopping by January and I hadn't done 25 yards.  I wasn't ready.

After two and a half weeks, I wasn't much excited about getting back in the pool.  It was cold that Tuesday, which didn't help.  But I did it.  And as per usual, it took some time to get comfortable in the water.  I covered somewhere between 32 and 38 laps in that half hour.  I must have looked like a mess- erratic breathing, stopping often, and the occasional bout of panic.  Yup, even in 4 feet of water.  I hit the pool a second time that week, and planned for a third, but couldn't motivate myself enough.
 
This week, I've gone twice and am actually looking forward to my third session tomorrow.  I'm regularly doing over 36 laps each time (that's more or less half a mile) and am focusing on technique.  I still have episodes of panic, but they're shorter and for the most part, I'm able to recover quickly and move on. I'm covering 25 yards with about 9 strokes (both arms) and am the fastest swimmer in the pool at any given time.  Sure, it's mostly middle aged women with floatie things doing some sort of 80's aqua-aerobics, but I'll take it. I am encouraged.

5 Lessons Later...

Sheila, my swimming instructor, is unintentionally shackling my mind with chains.  The pace of this swim class is inversely proportionate to the rate of my growing frustration.  Last week, lesson 5 of this journey, was supposed to focus on breathing.  I was wicked excited about this, because this is my greatest weakness and fear.  Instead, we talked about floating on our backs, rehashed the previous weeks lesson, and discussed how nobody knows how to turn the fish fountain on and how it's great for birthday parties.

I am consciously holding myself back from being disrespectful by feigning interest. I continue to stay engaged and give answers as prompted, but somehow, I am almost always wrong... event though I'm right.  In week two, she asked why the last third of your arm stroke gives you the most propulsion. I answered, momentum.  She retorted, "No- it's because an object in motion tends to stay in motion."  Uh, ok.  Last Wednesday she asked the same question, so I answered, "An object in motion tends to stay in motion."  She retorted, "well, no.  It's momentum."

In all honestly, I don't care about these things.  I just want to make progress.Well, it's more than that.  I want to make progress at my pace.  Anything else is a waste of time. 

Ok, I'm being harsh... The last few weeks haven't been a waste.  My stroke mechanics have improved drastically.  And I do appreciate the detail Sheila gives on these form issues.  And, of course. she is going the exact speed through her lessons as everyone else in the class wants her to.  She's a geat teacher.  I'm the oddball in the group.  Truthfully, it's me, not her. I guess I'm the only one trying to do an Ironman and talking beginner swimming lessons at the Y.

Yvonne, fellow TNTer and Ironman trainee, posted today that she completed her first ever 1/4 mile swim.  I am proud, excited, and envious.  I don't doubt that I'll get there, but I want to be there now. That's all.

"Next week remind me to start with breathing," was the last thing Sheila said on Wednesday.

You can bet your ass I will.

Swimming 101

IM NYNJ 2012
284 days to go...

Tonight I earned a $25 donation from Jeanette.  I signed up for and had my first swimming lesson.  I haven't been shy about sharing to everyone how much the swim portion of this Ironman scares me. I've never felt comfortable in water.

Sheila is my instructor's name.  She's been teaching at the Park Slope YMCA for 27 years.  "This is my pool.  That's how I feel.  This is my home and this is my pool."  She went on to say how she has a full time job during the day and that she's here at night because she wants to be.  She enjoys it.  I cracked a smile because it reminded me how I felt about marathon coaching.

She explained to us that safety comes first, and how by the end of the day, we'd be able to cross the pool (width wise, not length wise).  Yup.  We were gonna be taking baby steps.  I wondered whether I was in the right class or not.  I wondered that throughout the lesson.  Most of the time we were holding onto the edge of the pool or using a floatie-thing, even though we were only in three feet of water.

I wondered if I should explain to her that I could actually swim.  I could pull off a few laps in a pool, yes quite awkwardly, but I won't sink. Was I wasting my time and hers?  I didn't need to learn to stand in a pool or float. My discomfort stems from breathing in the water.  Seriously, how?  I mean, I just hold my breath.  Even if my head isn't even submerged.  I panic when it is.  Yeah, that's fun.

But I didn't say anything.  There was no need.  I was learning so much.  The lesson progressed and Sheila explained how my flippers (my feet) propelled me forward.  She explained that if I lift my head up, my feet would head down.  "Everything is opposites in swimming," she expressed.  And most importantly, we practiced submerging our heads in the water. And taking a breath.

I was excited. I could already feel progress.  This class was right after all.

"Thanks for tonight, Sheila.  See you next week."

"See you next week.  Remember to do your homework!"  She asked us to loosen up our ankles.  No problem.  I'm looking forward to next week.