Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Swam yesterday

Yesterday I visited an Alexandria Masters swimming program with some crossfit friends who are doing it to train for a triathlon, and it felt good to get back into the water.

My father, as I've mentioned earlier, was a really good swimmer (in college he led his team to win the national championship), so they put me in swimming class early, and I proved to be a good swimmer as well. I was doing so well that I competed with older kids. When I was nine I was competing in a 13 and under league, and although I could handle it physically, I was having issues emotionally.

Being nine years old, I didn't really get along with the teenagers (I mean, they had already hit puberty for goodness sake), and the coach wasn't used to dealing with a third grader, so I think I rubbed him the wrong way at times. But I did have one friend, can't remember his name but he was younger as well, like 11. Things were fine until the first swim meet, where I got first place in every event I competed in, beating my friend (who got second in every event where he went up against me). After that, he told me that was not longer my friend, and after a week or so of not talking to each other, and not having any other friends, I had finally had it and quit.

That was 21 years ago (God that makes me feel old), but I still have many clear memories associated with swimming. When I was younger, probably around six or seven, I remember the mental exercises I did to push myself as hard as I could. I was at the YMCA, and the drill was freestyle, fast as you can. I don't remember the distance, but what I do remember was the last 50m or so. My muscles are burning and I am gasping for air when bring my mouth to the side. But I had a trick to overcome this.

I was a big fan of the cartoon Popeye (my family didn't have cable until the year 2002), and there was one episode where he eats his spinach and jumps off a boat and swims to an island to go fight Bruto. I would imagine I was Popeye, and to the tune of the theme song I would push myself as hard as I could. I couldn't stop because Popeye didn't stop, and it always got me to the end.

My visit to the pool yesterday didn't require me to dig that deep, we did a lot of work on being slow, relaxed, and efficient. I was really rusty, trying to keep looking ahead and raising my head. Raising your head lowers your body, so you're no longer riding on top of the water but dragging through it. I decided to switch to alternating my breath, breathing every three strokes, and this really helped even me out. The coach said I looked like a totally different person, and then started including that into his coaching technique, requiring us to breathe every three strokes. That made me feel pretty cool, like when I made an objection in my trial advocacy class that inspired the professor to use it as the first question in his evidence exam.

So I swam the whole time, which was about an hour and 15 minutes, I think, maybe longer. I wasn't fatigued in the muscle sense, but when I stopped I realized I was dizzy from working out while holding my breath. I think I'll start adding this to my routine, swimming every Sunday, had a good time.

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