Warning: "continue" targeting switch is equivalent to "break". Did you mean to use "continue 2"? in /homepages/42/d510927642/htdocs/andrewswims/wp-includes/pomo/plural-forms.php on line 210
social | Please tap on the glass

Please tap on the glass

Tag: social

Take it too far

Here is how to train for a long swim:

Dream for as long as is necessary. Then settle on a goal. Goals don’t happen without dreams, and nothing happens without goals.

Now stop dreaming and focus. Focus on your goal the way you focus on your breathing, your stroke technique, or your counting of laps during a long pool set.

This swim is going to be hard. (You knew that, right?) Make your training harder. Train longer. Train faster. Train colder. Train farther. Train before dawn. Train through sunset, through dusk, and into the dark. Just you and the inky abyss.

Study everything. Study past successes and failures, both others’ and your own. Study the tides. Study the course. Study the coasts and the towns along them. Learn physics, biomechanics, nutrition, chemistry. Learn to stay organized. Read everything you can. Never read motivational posters; they are the worst. Don’t blindly trust the experts, check their assumptions. Become the expert, check your own assumptions.

Make mistakes and learn from them. Ignore the tides and get stuck in a current. Drink too much the night before. Skip breakfast. Lose goggles. Forget your suit. Now make those same mistakes again. Understand what part everything plays, and know what to do when mistakes inevitably happen.

Now make your training even harder. Make it too hard. Too long. Too fast. Too cold. Too far. You don’t know what any of those things are! Stop whining, shut up, and swim.

Make friends. Make contacts. Make whatever you need to succeed if it does not already exist. Lose friends. Lose contact with the outside world. Lose touch with reality as everyone else knows it. Make your own reality.

Swim all the time. Swim through Love. Swim through Loss. Swim through all the emotions that come in between. Never ask if swimming is the cause or the cure. It is probably both, but knowing that won’t help anything. Swim as your life crumbles around you. Swim while you rebuild it. Never stop swimming.

You knew this was going to be hard, right? Accept it. This will be lonely and alienating. Your only friends will be swimmers, and even they won’t understand you. This is a path that few have taken, or ever will. Don’t expect many companions. Treasure those who join you.

Happy endings are never guaranteed. Accept that things are not always in your control. Train yourself to appreciate small victories. Everything brings a chance to improve, to learn, to succeed. At best, your training will be adequate and your swim will seem easy. Don’t dwell on the other possibilities.

If this doesn’t work: make your training harder. This will not be easy. But you knew that, didn’t you.

Haiku 4

Missed connections

Fast girl in lane four,
I’d have said ‘hi’ if ever
our repeats lined up.

Swim meet

Last weekend was beautiful. The sun chased away all of Seattle’s clouds and we had two days of warm spring air. And where was I? Well, in case you missed the title, I was at a swim meet.

Yes, a swim meet. At an indoor, 25 yard pool swimming back and forth. The rest of the Pacific Northwest was as shocked as you are.

Ever since joining a swim team or two, I’ve had people asking me when I’d sign up for a meet. The idea was immediately laughed at because I’m not really into racing. I find no thrill in competing against others and I don’t swim in meets enough to be able to race against myself, so what is the point? Maybe all this training has just worn me down, or maybe the idea of a justifiable taper week got to me, but a few days before the meet registration closed, I signed up for our LMSC championship at my old Tuesday-Thursday morning pool.

What really surprised everybody is that I did not just sign up for all the long distance events. No no, remember I don’t like racing? Instead, I picked a few events that I thought I could do well in and just signed up for those. Many of my workouts lately have been built around increasingly faster sets of one, two, and three hundreds of freestyle, so the 100 and 200 free were obvious choices. Then I also signed up for the 100 fly because I was once pretty good at that. And that is it. Just three events.

The meet was a blast. During my training for this summer’s big swims, I’ve found myself wondering how fast I could go if I tried, and I was excited from the start to have a chance to find out. As a kid, I lacked much of the focus racing requires and usually got too caught up in the social atmosphere of swim meets. Thanks to open water and the mental durability developed in the numerous lonely workouts I’ve gone through over the past five years, I was able to get in a solid warm up (my shoulders remind me of warm up’s importance at every workout nowadays) and to extricate myself from friends before my events for a few quiet minutes behind the block. Not to say I didn’t take full advantage of having so many swim friends in the same place at the same time. Work and play.

Naturally, having not swum a short course meet in 9 years, all my seed times were made up. I really had no idea how I would do. In all my events, my starts were pathetic. I may as well have just gotten off the block after the start, adjusted my goggles, and eased myself into the pool; they were bad. But after that, it felt perfect. They felt like that perfect day of training when you just want to go faster, your stroke feels smooth, you nail every turn, and you don’t want to stop for anything. I got totally high on that feeling. And my times weren’t bad either; way better than expected, and one life-time best.

As the meet ended, I was shocked at how sad I was that short course season is over – this was the final meet. Now that I know my times, I want to go faster. I want to go back to this meet and cheer for my teammates, count laps for the coach of another team, talk with the race director about how his workouts have been, say hello to former lane mates, plan summer swims with my open water friends, and get invited by the Coleman Pool director to use the pool for free this summer (only if I swim there from Alki). I want to join every team, and go to every event. I don’t always get along well with everyone, but with swimmers, I love them all!

Just a few weeks ago, swimming and me, we were heading into a rough patch in our relationship. But this meet turned that around. Swimming and I are in love again.

The benefit of being regular

On Saturdays, my typical morning routine is to swim off Alki Beach at 9:30am, followed by a warm-up period in Tully’s, followed by an additional drink or two at Celtic Swell one block over. It is planned, it is prescribed, it is predictable, it is other synonymous ‘P’ adjectives.

The benefits of being a regular at a commercial establishment are readily apparent. For example when I get my post-swim beverages, both hot and cold. Like anyone who frequents a café, pub, or otherwise, I can count on a friendly smile awaiting me when I walk in shivering, a welcome respite from the cold impersonality that trails the new guy in a big city. Being this type of regular also comes with a free drink every now and then, an added bonus.

But that type of regularity, the Regular Patron, is not the only type of regularity. A big part of my Saturday routine has been a practiced effort to make my routine a routine. To arrive at a given time and, more importantly, to finish swimming at a certain time. To establish one time each week when everyone knows there will be at least one other person swimming at the beach. Whereas the Regular Patron comes wanting, the Regular Swimmer comes to share.

One of the best things about CIBBOWS, the open-water swim group that calls home Grimaldo’s Chair at the end of Brighton 4th Street in Brooklyn, is their well-rehearsed predictability and dependability. Throughout the year, and especially in the summer and especially on Saturdays, a group of swimmers will be at the beach from around 9am on through the early evening. Without fail. There is no need to call ahead; you just know there is always someone there.

When I swam with CIBBOWS, I always intended to meet them at 10am for a swim. I wanted to be a Regular. The train ride from the Upper East Side was over 90 minutes and more often than not a late night or a hangover or both precluded me from arriving as planned. I was not the predictable one of the group for sure, often arriving around 1pm just as most people were packing up. But that was fine, I could depend on the rest of the group to hold down the tradition on which I depended; I’d just arrive when I could, do a short swim, and then eat everyone’s left-over snacks.

Upon arriving in Seattle, no such group existed. It wasn’t long before I found a small network of swimmers willing to join me in the always chilly waters and often inclement weather of the Pacific Northwest winter, but every meeting required a plan: time, place, directions, guest list, warm-up spot, transportation. Fun for us, but certainly not great for the part of me that wanted to sleep in an irresponsibly show up mid-afternoon, and not great for getting those unsure and unfamiliar to drop in.

It is now over a year later and we’ve grown. We’ve picked a time and place. Every Saturday, we say, someone will be at Alki Bathhouse at 9:30. An average swimmer will be in the water for a half-hour, and will then head to Tully’s to warm up, we say. And we advertise this. When someone asks, “Will you be cancelling this weekend because of [holiday/weather/Seahawks]?” we’re quick to remind everyone that Of Course we will be there at 9:30am, independent of time, temperature, and teams. We’re always there at 9:30am. Always. And this is working.

As of this weekend, we’ve expanded our formerly invite-only swim group to an ad-hoc, make-it-if-you-can group of eleven plus, shivering on the beach on Saturdays! Local residents have taken note of the unusually large numbers of regular swimmers in the water. Our fireside chats at Tully’s are taking over a larger and larger portion of the café. And this is only February!

The benefit of being the Regular Swimmer is that other people become regulars.

Now, my new goal is to meet someone at the beach who arrived for a swim at 1pm because she knew a group would still be there hanging out after their regular 9:30am swim. And maybe someday, I can be that person again.