Of Fishes and Bicycles
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
A week ago Saturday, I put myself back in the water for the first time since September 9th.
It was a gray day. Not much going on. After an extraordinarily busy few weeks, Chief of Stuff and I, mercifully, had no plans that evening. He asked what we should do. I'm sure he was thinking something along the lines of if we should stay in and cook dinner or go out...order a movie On Demand, or go to see one in the theater.
I said, "Swim!"
I don't know where it came from, this sudden desire to go aquatic in the midst of yet another snowstorm, but as soon as I said it, that was all I wanted to do.
CoS looked at me skeptically. It wasn't like he wasn't ready to swim, after all. He had all the gear. He just had yet to actually get in the water.
We went through what he'd need for a session at the pool. Flip-flops, towel, goggles, shorts, etc., etc. Good reminders for me, as well. Although I was pleased to find that my swimming bag was still neatly packed from last season, and pretty much everything I needed was already in there -- including a fresh towel.
During the drive to the pool, I began to see that the excitement I felt about swimming wasn't shared by everyone in the car. From the passenger's seat, CoS launched question after question at me: "How much should you kick?," "What's the key thing to remember?," "How fast should you go,?"
"Don't worry so much," I told him. "It's not like you're going to drown."
And then he asked,"So how do you breathe?"
Simple enough question, but I didn't really know. I didn't know how I did it...I just did.
Wrong thing to say, though, I guess.
He asked how I could just sit there and tell him to relax and not worry when breathing came so naturally to me that I couldn't even explain how I did it.
Truth was, I had no idea. I tried to explain, but I couldn't figure out when I breathed, or where my arm was in rotation when I did it, or anything else about how I swam.
And then, I said even more wrong things. About how, during some particularly grueling training swims for the Ironman, and during the Ironman itself, I caught myself thinking, "I feel like a fish," in the best possible way. As in, minus the gills, I felt completely at home in the water. Comfortable. Safe. Totally at ease.
One could see how this wouldn't help. At all.
I was nervous too, though. Had I forgotten how to swim? Would the me that put down a sub-1:30 Ironman swim be a me of the past, for good? Or would it be like riding a bike?
Long story short, we made it to the pool without any major meltdowns, and no one drowned. No one even came close. CoS and I did some drills, and I marveled at how my body floats easily at times when CoS's lean frame tends to...well, not float. Legs mainly. Chalk that one up to the high-numbered result I got on the body composition test I had done a few weeks back, I guess. Sigh.
I got in a handful of 100s, and pulled out the fly now and then. And breathed deep that chlorine smell. It spoke to me a bit, that smell, as smells and tastes sometimes do. Because suddenly, I was back there, on a hard workout at the end of the day when the last thing I wanted to do was climb into a swimsuit. Back there where I didn't know yet if I could...if I would...pull this thing called Ironman off. Back there where I simply got into the water, and swam, stroke-after-stroke, until I knew that I could do it for 2.4. Great feelings all, and suddenly, being back there, so close to them, I was giddy again with excitement. The pool was closing; but I didn't want to go home. I wanted to feel my shoulders burn on a 400, feel my lungs burn and heave after a 100 IM.
It was good to be back there...and to be at the beginning of getting back in general. That's been a constant battle this winter, what with the mental Ironman recovery I battled, the never-ending white stuff and freezing rain, and now, this new gig I'm doing (that's tres fun but a huge time commitment), but if I have to start a hundred times over again, I will. This fish is back on the bike, figuratively, and hopefully soon, literally.
Posted by Erin 11:31 AM
Just found your blog and am enjoying the reading. I too am training for an iron--Florida--and a fellow Vizsla owner. I look forward to following your progress.