Thursday, April 24, 2008

Holding My Breath

I'm holding my breath, quite literally, for the time when I have a swimming breakthrough. Tuesday morning I went to my usual master's swim, a little late, of course. It was less crowded than usual, which means that I have to lead a few sets more than the normal one out of five. In the lane with me were two guys, one of which, the amazing Charlie, I encouraged to a 1:45 100-yarder a few years ago during my "triathlon class." That same Charlie is now killing me in the pool.

After a warm-up, shortened by my inability to get up when the alarm goes off, and a long pull set, we did 6x200, one easy, one hard. That meant that each of us got to lead an easy one and a hard one. I got the second set, with Charlie hot on my tail. I cruised through the easy one then really tried to push it for the hard one. I really did it all for Charlie's sake. Actually I don't know if it's my pride that makes me want to be so fast that he doesn't have to tickle my feet (or my calves, when he gets really aggressive with his push-offs), or my sympathy for his having to swim behind a slow one like me. Whatever it was motivating me, I swam my little brains out for 200 whole yards. I was cruising at a nice pace through 100, tried to pick it up for the next 25, then hit a wall somewhere in the middle of the pool-- who put that there? I flailed and thrashed around until I made it the rest of the way, reminiscing with the 3 brain cells that were still functional in their oxygen-deprived state, about my brief stint on the Rhodes College swim team.

Yes, friends, I was on a swim team. It was a brief encounter with fear, anxiety, and near-death. My senior year in college there was a new varsity (D3) team at school, and being the seasoned triathlete that I was (I'd done like 8 races by then), I thought it would be no problem. Maybe Coach Steve's snicker when I told him my furthest distance swum was 2200m should have clued me in. But no, I joined the team the day after the regional cross country meet, a full two months after they had started practicing. The first day of practice happened to be an easy day. Really! It was 900m total. Even I could handle that. Maybe this swim team thing wasn't so bad after all. What are all these people complaining about?

My second day was quite different. After a little warm-up we did 1600m of Indian-trail style swimming. If you've ever done this running, you know it consists of a single-file line at a steady pace with the person at the end sprinting up to the front. Swimming this workout is basically of the same design; however, you have these things called walls to deal with. I know several times I couldn't even make the pass within the 25m length of the pool. After that mile was over, I'm sure we kept swimming. I think I blacked out.

During those winter months we had quite an advantage. The Rhodes pool is covered in a bubble at that time, and inside that bubble with the warm water and cold air, it is a thick fog. Steve really couldn't see what was going on even halfway down the pool and I hated backstroke. When I got to where I knew I was out of sight during my "backstroke," out came the freestyle. If he knew, he never said anything.

Usually I was so far behind everyone else in the slowest lane, that they would have already left for their next interval well before I completed the first one. I would be going at about 99%, I'd reach the wall, and the coach would say, "take 5 seconds, Joy!" Thanks Steve. So I'd take 5 panting breaths and push off again.

He'd let me do only the 50 freestyle in most meets, bless his heart. One time I got to do a C-team relay and was the breaststroker for the team. I must've either done a decent job or just impressed my teammates so little before, that many approached me with a look of confusion after the race and said, "wow, you can do breaststroke!" and "maybe you should've been doing the breaststroke this whole season."

Then came the conference meet. I had to do my usual 50 free and also the 100 free. I was so nervous and excited (like an anxiety-filled, wet-your-pants excitement) that I sprinted off the block. By 55 yards, the blackness was creeping in and the gulps of air were consisting of a larger and larger percentage of water. Everything burned, my head was throbbing, and I thought I was going to drown. To this day I'm not sure how I lived through that.

Hours later Steve approached me. "I'm pulling you out of the 200 free." My head was still spinning from my brush with death. "I'm sorry, the what? I was entered in what?" I had mistakenly thought the punishment had ended and I was free to breathe nothing but pure air for the rest of the meet. Steve was actually rewarding me, and more than he knew. My perfect attendance at practice and my effort, despite my lack of ability, had won me the get-out-of-jail-free card. At least that's what he told me. I think it was the blue face of hypoxia he saw when I exited the water after that 100 free.


I have PTSD-like flashbacks of those days every once in a while, so if you see me in the pool on the verge of a panic attack, or more likely, hyperventilating through an open-water swim, don't be surprised. I am still glad I went through that torturous 4 months, because now no workout will ever compare. Something about the abundance of oxygen during exercise on land comforts me. But after swimming 20,000m weeks and working myself to death each and every morning at 6 a.m. (and this is quite a feat in college!), I'm still not significantly better at swimming. In fact, I can't quite make those intervals anymore. So I'm still holding my breath for the day when I have a breakthrough. It's coming, I can feel it in my little oxygen-starved brain!

6 comments:

  1. You and me both honey!

    Oh, what? You actually have to get IN the pool to have a swimming breakthrough?!?!? Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh, so THAT'S what I'm doing wrong! (insert sheepish grin here).

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  2. I distinctly remember hating you for making me swim that 1:45 twice! I couldn't believe how mean you were about it. I blame you.

    Sometimes you need someone breathing down your neck to make the extra effort - I'm used to it from you on the bike! Also, for what it's worth, I didn't notice a slow down when you slammed into this supposed wall mid-lap. :)

    I found out in my senior yearbook that I was on the swim team at CBHS! I went to 2-4 practices but apparently still lettered... If only I'd known I was a jock back then!

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  3. i did one year of swimming, well, in high school. i was worse than TERRIBLE but coach let me race in a few events out of pity. i somehow got put in the 500 every meet and i never did a flip turn. that's right, touch and push for every miserable lap. i couldn't do a flip turn without getting water up my nose.

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  4. You swam at Rhodes? That counts for something no matter what. I hope I get to "personally" meet you at MIM. You're such a great athlete! Trust me, you didn't miss much in PT school. I'm counting the days until my misery ends. I know your talents will be used very wisely elsewhere without the student loan debt!

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  5. Not sure about Toad Suck yet. My husband sort of wants to run it and one of us has to watch the kids so we're waiting to decide. I've ran it the past 2 years, it's a nice race, and usually the first "warm" one of the year. Good luck! I know you'll be smokin'!

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  6. I think it's inherited. I just really like breathing air. And you know how scared I've become of the water these days.

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