I swam my first master's swim meet, the first meet since high school. The meet was the season finale which was held at the U.S. Naval Academy. I was curious to see the swim facilities at the academy, and pool was really nice and crystal clear.
Before the meet, I finally got up the nerve to put on my new racing suit. The suit I'd been wearing, while pretty, wasn't made for speed swimming and had very little give in the torso. The new suit had been on my dresser for a month, but practice after practice went by and I couldn't bring myself to wear it. There are no "kindest cut" racing suits for the middle-aged figure--although I think there should be! Every suit I put on looked horrible, highlighting some figure flaw or risking overexposure. Finally, I realized that my mind was what needed to change. Of course, all of my teammates noticed the suit right away and complimented it, while I stammered something about getting up the nerve to wear the suit.
At the meet, I showed up punctually and started my warmup. After swimming a few laps, I began to use the blocks to start. To my horror, every single time I dove in, my goggles fell off or they came apart at the nose bridge. Panicked, I sought the assistance of my coach and one of the really experienced swimmers on the team. They tightened my goggle straps to a migraine-inducing tightness and suggested that I wear my swim cap over the goggles, pulled down over my forehead. Before the meet, I wanted to practice diving off the blocks, but was afraid to ask and say that I'd developed a mental complex about the starting block. After a few more dives, I was somewhat more comfortable and managed to keep most of the water out of my goggles, which was a small reassurance.
I swam the 50 free in 37:90 and thought I did alright, although I could feel myself slow down perceptibly over the last few yards. Afterwards, my coach came by and corrected my stroke and I was glad to hear it. However, I knew that I was getting distracted by the starting bock, my goggles, the competition, and I wasn't really focused on my stroke as much as I could. There's one member of the team who gives stroke pointers to everyone. He has an uncanny ability to just glance at someone in the water and tell how their stroke could be improved, and he spent a lot of time helping a teammate with her stroke at the meet. I learn a lot just by listening to him and watching him coach other swimmers, and I later learned that he had swum on the national team in the Philippines.
After that, I swam a relay with the team. I think I must have been picked for the relay just because I showed up early, not because of any actual talent that I might contribute. The mixed relay paired men and women, and I and another inexperienced swimmer were paired with more experienced, faster swimmers on the team. We came in last. But even some of the faster swimmers on the team got washed away by the competition.
Before the meet, I hit my longtime goal of being able to do flip turns again. I started practicing them when I swam by myself, but when I began practicing with the team, I felt so distracted by all of the people swimming close together in the lane that I didn't want to flip. But after the realization that I was spending too much time hanging onto the wall taking a few breaths, I pressured myself to flip again, and I did, most of the time. I was able to flip in competition, but during the relay I flipped too soon and nearly missed the wall.
At the meet, the most amazing event was seeing one of the team's coaches swim the 200 yd fly. I marveled at his aerobic capacity to stay underwater for half of the length of the pool before surfacing, and then he breathed only every other stroke. The team stroke sage explained that in staying underwater and going deep and coming up actually propelled him when he began swimming.
Next, I swam the 100 free in 1:24 and then the 200 free in 3:10. I'd been ambivalent about signing up for the 200 free--an event which combines both speed and endurance in equal measures--but wanted a third event and decided to sign up. I regretted it, as I was tired at this point and really dragging. By the time I finished, all of my competition had gotten out of the water. Very discouraging.
The swim meet was all about everything that I couldn't do in high school, and the events that I signed up for were the ones I couldn't swim back then. At that time, my event was the 500 free but now I don't want to touch it. I went out for the swim team, not because I was fast swimmer, but because I moved to a new town where my favorite sport, the one that I was actually good at--synchronized swimming--wasn't available. I'd been lap swimming in the morning and after being challenged by my high school guidance counselor who happened to coach the team, I decided to move on to speed swimming. I believe the coach put me in the 500 free because I was slower, but could endure. It was the event that nobody else on the team wanted to do. In high school, you do what the coach tells you to, but now, I can swim whatever events I want. If I do another meet, I'll focus on shorter events, maybe 50 free, 50 breast, and 100 free. Thankfully, I've forgotten all of my times so everything seems almost new to me now.
So many things have changed since high school. I've had five great years with the cochlear implant, and I enjoy the conversation that swirls around me in the locker room and talking to my teammates. What could I hear in high school? Not much.
But the thing that hasn't changed is that without modern technology, I'm still deaf in the water. In high school, someone tapped my ankle to start me so that I could get off the bock. But now, I want to be more independent. So for my first event, I started off the block myself, just by watching what other people were doing. I was gratified that I could start independently, although in reality the independence is probably costing me precious seconds and I'm probably the last one off the block and in the water. At the end of the meet, an official told me that I could use an arm signal to start, if I wanted.
The meet motivated me to get in the water and focus on my swimming! My goals are to work harder in practice, not just survive practice as I've been doing. I also want to focus on improving my stroke, and to focus on being focused in competition, without environment distracting me from my stroke and my swimming. I also want to be more independent in getting myself down to the deck for my events. My reward is two new swim caps, building a collection just as I'd wished.
No comments:
Post a Comment