This morning I was not planning on going to the pool, but when I looked outside it was raining. I went to the pool and spent the best hour that I have had in a long, long time. I spend the time kicking (I hate kicking with a passion) and just feeling the rain on my face. It was such a serene experience with the water droplets hitting my goggles and the feeling that it was just me, the rain, and the water. The mountains were covered in mist and no one else was in the pool, although there was one rather wet lifeguard that kept glaring at me. When I got out I felt refreshed and renewed and ready to face the rest of my day. Does anyone else have a beautiful experience at the pool?
I'm a newcomer to masters' workouts, so there is a lot that's new and exciting for me that others might understandably take for granted.
No access now to an outdoor pool--the one at my local Y is indoors. But there's a large window through which I can see the sun coming up. When I first started workouts, it was February, and still dark when I entered the pool. As I swam lap after lap, drill after drill, kicking, free, the whole bit, I'd notice suddenly that sky was pink, then that the water began to sparkle as the sun became visible. As a brand new day shone through the window, a new masters swimmer was being formed in the water. As winter turned to spring and the sun had already come up when I arrived at the pool, I was also developing, growing lighter in the water.
Now summer is almost here, and I am learning things I never thought I'd be able to do when I first began. The spring has seen the budding of my flip turn, my first nervous steps up onto the starting block. I knew how to dive, even had some experience diving from a high board as a kid--nothing fancy, just the basic dive, but it took plenty of courage at the time... and having been away from that aspect of swimming, it took as much courage again to stand on the block, the goggles making everything in my line of vision a bit skewed, the platform facing downward toward the water, testing my suddenly uncertain balance.... and the first push off, and my coach's thumbs up. For me, it's a chance to be a kid again, recover long-lost courage and a sense of adventure.
I've still got a long way to go speed and technique-wise. My butterfly looks more like a caterpillar. I still sometimes inhale water when I try bilateral breathing (though I do so less often than I used to). And my flip turns aren't ready for the shallow end yet (something about the nearness of the bottom that makes me a bit uneasy). When I reach the wall on the deep end, I'm always a little nervous before starting the turn. But most times now, I'm not starting too soon so that my feet have no wall to push off. Most times, I seem to be getting it--on the deep end at least. Sometimes I come to the pool after a weekend of long runs (my other hobby) just to do some easy recovery swimming--and lately found that to my surprise, I was passing people easily. I used to use the slow lanes in those situations--but no longer. And for recovery swims, I'd be content with maybe 250 or so yards. Now that's barely a start.
No, I'm still no speedster, but the pool has come to feel more like home. In a week, I'm trying a low key local Senior Games 50 freestyle. Based on my 50 free times (best so far is 53), I'm thinking people will be done and showered by the time I finish. But I haven't heard of anyone dying from finishing last in a 50 freestyle,* so I'm willing to give it a try.
* Note: if you've heard of such a thing, please don't tell me, okay? ;)
I'm a newcomer to masters' workouts, so there is a lot that's new and exciting for me that others might understandably take for granted.
No access now to an outdoor pool--the one at my local Y is indoors. But there's a large window through which I can see the sun coming up. When I first started workouts, it was February, and still dark when I entered the pool. As I swam lap after lap, drill after drill, kicking, free, the whole bit, I'd notice suddenly that sky was pink, then that the water began to sparkle as the sun became visible. As a brand new day shone through the window, a new masters swimmer was being formed in the water. As winter turned to spring and the sun had already come up when I arrived at the pool, I was also developing, growing lighter in the water.
Now summer is almost here, and I am learning things I never thought I'd be able to do when I first began. The spring has seen the budding of my flip turn, my first nervous steps up onto the starting block. I knew how to dive, even had some experience diving from a high board as a kid--nothing fancy, just the basic dive, but it took plenty of courage at the time... and having been away from that aspect of swimming, it took as much courage again to stand on the block, the goggles making everything in my line of vision a bit skewed, the platform facing downward toward the water, testing my suddenly uncertain balance.... and the first push off, and my coach's thumbs up. For me, it's a chance to be a kid again, recover long-lost courage and a sense of adventure.
I've still got a long way to go speed and technique-wise. My butterfly looks more like a caterpillar. I still sometimes inhale water when I try bilateral breathing (though I do so less often than I used to). And my flip turns aren't ready for the shallow end yet (something about the nearness of the bottom that makes me a bit uneasy). When I reach the wall on the deep end, I'm always a little nervous before starting the turn. But most times now, I'm not starting too soon so that my feet have no wall to push off. Most times, I seem to be getting it--on the deep end at least. Sometimes I come to the pool after a weekend of long runs (my other hobby) just to do some easy recovery swimming--and lately found that to my surprise, I was passing people easily. I used to use the slow lanes in those situations--but no longer. And for recovery swims, I'd be content with maybe 250 or so yards. Now that's barely a start.
No, I'm still no speedster, but the pool has come to feel more like home. In a week, I'm trying a low key local Senior Games 50 freestyle. Based on my 50 free times (best so far is 53), I'm thinking people will be done and showered by the time I finish. But I haven't heard of anyone dying from finishing last in a 50 freestyle,* so I'm willing to give it a try.
* Note: if you've heard of such a thing, please don't tell me, okay? ;)
