17 Again...or Not

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.

If At First You Don't Succeed...

No laughing allowed as you read this post!!! Today, I was going to participate in a weekly Saturday morning bike ride organized by a local women's bicycle store and I was really looking forward to it. But then I began to have doubts and psych out. I see people with very expensive bicycles at the YMCA for a trainer workout and they look so incredibly fast. What if these people showed up for the ride? I'd never done the course before and hadn't even gone that far.

I decided that I would do the course by myself first, building up my confidence. I got up early Saturday morning, anticipating my ride. It was one of those spring days where I wished it was warmer than it actually was. As I set out, the wind tore through my long sleeve shirt and light jacket and through my light gloves, making the tips of my fingers hurt.

The route started out at the local park, and turned on a road past some government buildings. Then it goes past a new housing development, with homes starting at just under $1 million. Suddenly, there was the scent of cow manure and I found myself in the middle of farmland that I never knew existed in this suburban area. As I ride along, I could see white flakes drifting down. Snowflakes in late March with the temperature in the mid-40s!!?? My hands gradually warmed up...but then I heard a popping sound. Was that what I thought it was? Yep, it was. Five minutes later I could no longer ignore the bumpy ride cased by a rear flat.

I got off and walked up the hills, riding only when it was flat. I didn't want a small problem to become a bigger, more expensive problem by wrecking the tire and the bicycle rim. About 10 cyclists saw me on this well-known bike route, and each one asked "Are you OK?" I said that I was, but it was kind of a neat group of people that would express concern. I read somewhere that one should take a cell phone, ID and credit card on a long ride, and bringing the cell phone was the one smart thing I did. I called my husband who eventually came and got me.

The bike is now in the shop for the week, and I asked the friendly folks to show me how to take off the rear tire so I can change it myself next time. Guess I'll be getting that small seat bag, CO2 cartridges, and spare tube that I'd been putting off purchasing.

The day ended with another dose of discouragement as I drove the bike route for a race I was thinking about entering. It's a challenging course and I don't think I'm going to be able to get up the hills. Trying to find a race has been logistically challenging. Three conferences, a family vacation, and two overnight camps for one kid and another graduating and going off to college in the span of 12 weeks make for a very busy summer. Each weekend this summer, I'll be doing one of the above or prepping for one of the above. Guess I'll have to go back to the drawing board with this.

Above: You wouldn't believe the number of people who are unloading their vintage Centurion bicycles from the 1980s on eBay. Just for kicks, I set up an alert and here's one that looks like mine. In making repairs and adding parts, I've decided to preserve the retro look, like an old Volkswagen Beatle.

Sunday Run

I had a really nice run with my husband today. But it didn't start out being that way. It was a cool, drizzly morning that makes one have second thoughts about running. My husband proposed running from Patuxent Branch, around Lake Elkhorn and back, a 6-mile route. I wasn't really quite up to 6 miles yet, so I wanted to walk quite a bit.

My husband started out fast, and then midway through the run, he had a neat idea. He suggested that we run from bridge to bridge, and then walk a bit. Apparently, he doesn't like to run over bridges, and the walking part was fine with me. It turned out to be a really enjoyable run. I like running side-by-side with him, even if he listens to his iPod and then starts singing along! At the end of the run, the sun came out and raindrops hung from the branches, glistening with sunlight.

The run capped off a weekend that started with a Saturday morning 1,300 yd swim that included two 400m time trials, to get a seed time for a race I'm thinking about entering. It was a really warm, spring day, so I got in a 9-mile bike ride in the afternoon, and topped it off with my core routine. Then I did the run on Sunday and an abbreviated core routine. Afterwards, I was just pooped! When I look back at previous posts, I realize that I'm slower to hit milestones this year, like a 6-mile run, but at the same time, I feel stronger and things seem easier.