My Struggle With Swimming

I’ve been struggling lately, trying to disconnect from the compulsion I feel to stay disciplined and true to my near-neurotic habits when it comes to exercise, specifically swimming. Of course, the “near-neurotic” adjective might actually be a bit strong because I’m not technically unstable emotionally, nor do I have impairment to my functionality; but still, it feels neurotic in my own sense of the definition. And I figure that anything that has my mind constantly looping through the scenario might need to be changed so that I feel a little more at peace. Alas…the struggle.

Me in 1981I guess I should back up a bit in explaining it all. When I was a kid, I was a swimmer. Sure, I was a lot of other things too, but what really defined me the most was probably the fact that I was always at the pool - practicing, competing, making goals, working towards achieving them, swimming at U.S. Senior Nationals, winning individual (and relay) events at CIF, making the U.S. Sports Festival team, being fast enough to be offered a college scholarship, traveling to meets all over the country, and the list goes on and on. People knew me as a swimmer and though other things were important to me as well, swimming really encompassed my life for the most part. I started out as a little seven year-old age group tyke and made it all the way through my sophomore year of college, when an injury demolished my aquatic-focused dreams.

At the time of my injury, I was so frustrated with the pain associated with it (both physically and emotionally) that I honestly was thrilled to not have to wear the label of “swimmer” any longer. I wanted a life on dry land and I wanted to do things I had never had the opportunity or time for, because of the crazy hours and dedication needed to be an athlete at the level I had worked my way up to. I finished college without goggles in tow, and soon thereafter, Steve and I got married and began making new memories together. I always exercised consistently throughout the years, it just never involved H2O.

I taught my kids to swim and Brynn even competed for a short time on the same age-group team I had as a youngster, but it wasn’t really her cup of tea, so after a year or so, she moved on as well. I was content with this. Well, maybe. I mean, I won’t lie…when I would catch competitive swimming on television or read about a competition in the paper, that twinge of excitement came back. I found myself envisioning standing on the blocks, remembering the feelings associated with the preparation for a race, longing for the smell of chlorine even (what, chlorine? I know, right). But this always subsided as quickly as it began and life would resume.

Until last November, around the time of my 39th birthday, when I had been developing an interest in cycling and was riding 20+ miles each day. I figured that since I had worked my way up to a pretty respectable level with the ol’ bike, that maybe if I threw running and swimming back into the equation, I could try my hand at a triathlon. Steve and I started walking in the mornings, and then running…and pretty soon, the only thing missing was finding a swim suit and a pair of goggles.

Photo by goswim.tvI didn’t really know what to expect when I first headed down to the pool. It had literally been twenty years since I had swam laps. There was apprehension in regards to my physical capabilities as well as an emotional tug (I know that might sound really weird, but there are just deep-rooted memories and struggles associated with it all, so it was hard to separate). Maybe it was the fact that I was already in pretty decent shape from my other training, but as soon as I dove in, the strokes, the flip turns, the breathing…it all came back to me very quickly. And interesting thing too, it was really fun! I really enjoyed it a lot and started going to the pool more and more, while the other disciplines soon got moved to the back burner so I could have more time to swim.

A few weeks in, I began searching online for information about Masters Swimming and wondering what it would be like to compete again. I emailed Steve a link about a meet in Las Vegas one day and asked him if he would be down with taking the kids on a little weekend trip. That first competition was a little frustrating (I was a slowpoke after only five weeks of training), but it ignited a new/old love and neurosis.

Everything from that point on moved quickly. After realizing that I needed a lot more practice to be a contender, I started swimming five days a week, then six, then seven. I increased my yardage and my intensity. I went to every meet I could get to and swam as many events as I was allowed. My times started dropping and some confidence came back. I ended up winning the high point award for my age group at our regional zone championships and then headed to Atlanta, Georgia to compete in the U.S. Masters Swimming Nationals, which resulted in five best times (for Masters swimming - not lifetime) and a lot of amazing memories and good times.

And it is here (the memories and enjoyment aspect) where I seem to blur the line and establish my struggle.

I want to just enjoy it and be happy that I’m doing something that I love again, but the competitive monster in me gets so fixated on training and improving that it erodes the joy to some extent. Lately, the hours I keep with getting to the pool, have seriously been catching up to me. I try to wake up at 3:15 am each morning, to make coffee, get my swim gear together and drive to the pool, so that I can be in the water by 4:00 am (it’s necessary to arrive that early to get my own lane, unfortunately). It’s “worked” fine for the last few months, but the lack of sleep and stress of feeling like I need to swim every day is settling in. It seems like my body is telling me to back off. It’s frustrating though and therein lies my battle.

I have been trying to concoct new devices for training to make things fun again. I actually missed swimming on Tuesday morning (gasp) and Steve and I went for a long run instead. This morning, I simply lacked the stamina to get up when the alarm clock rang at 3:15 and ended up just doing my dryland/weight routine instead. But here it is, 10:15 in the morning, after missing a practice, and I feel such anxiety because of it. That’s not good - I know. I have got to find the balance again. I’ve got to learn that I can be competitive without being neurotic. I’ve got to find the joy in the experience and in the sport without the convoluted mindset. I know this, which is why I’m trying to put down into words what swirls through my mind constantly.

The last few days I have been watching recaps of the USMS Long Course Nationals which are currently taking place in Puerto Rico. So many of the people they interview seem as though they are able to just enjoy swimming there - really enjoy it. Whether their races result in best times or not, they just seem so content. I wish I could find this mindset and approach it as a challenge, but not feel unsuccessful if I miss days of training or have an off race. Maybe I am incorporating too much of the disposition I employed as a swimmer in my youth. Maybe I need to relearn the perspective to which I approach the whole situation. Maybe I just need to relax. As Depeche Mode would say, "Get the balance right."

For some reason, this concept is much easier said that done for me. At least right now it is. Do I just swim to stay in shape and for fitness? Do I still compete in meets? But is that possible without maintaining the crazy regimen I have implemented for myself? Can I find the balance and do both?

Do any of you struggle with something like this (not just with sports, but in any area)? If so, what do you do? What do you think I should do?