Today was it, the last day for me to really figure anything out. Wednesday morning saw some realizations and breakthroughs, but I took reluctantly took yesterday off. For one thing, I've been worn out. I loaded myself up pretty hard this week. I've dropped a valid three or four pounds, and I feel like I've been kicked mercilessly by a troop of Girl Scouts. Why Girl Scouts? I don't know, because they could, and would, do that sort of thing.
Here's something: despite scoring fairly well in math on most standardized tests, I have been under the impression that 3 x 200 meters = 500 meters. It is, apparently, 600 meters. So, I've been swimming 600 meters most days, not just the 500 meters that I'll have to cover for the triathlon. It also means that I might be able to finish the distance in 23-25 minutes, not 27-30. Still painfully, HEB-checkout-line-at-night-slow, but I'll take any improvement I can get.
So, today, I got away late, was going to get to Barton Springs just in time for them to start charging, stopped at the ATM, got down to the pool, and realized I forgot my goggles. Rode back home, got caught by my neighbor, who's moving out of state this weekend, was delayed 10-15 minutes, then coached another neighbor's daughter briefly. She was doing sprints in the parking lot in anticipation of her annual garage to fence race against her grandfather.
Back down to Barton Springs, and into the water. I stood, getting used to the cold, and I watched the old men and women swimming out there, and their strokes were so smooth and deliberate, it had a mesmerizing, calming effect on me. Today's first observed lesson: slow it down, don't fight the water.
I chatted with one of the old guys, and that was nice. He had done a tri before. He warned me about the whole melee nature of being in a mass of kicking, flailing swimmers, but we agreed that at the same time, it might help get me in that competitive focus.
On my first 200 meters, I went out slow, rolling to breathe as much as possible. I was having more trouble remembering to breathe out, and was freaking out about water coming into my nose when I put my head back in the water. Still, I swam, kept it methodical, stopped periodically to breathe, rolled over on my back a couple of times, resorted to breastroke briefly, but only stood up once, and that was just for second to empty my goggles. I could have just dealt with that or even emptied it without standing up, but I decided it was OK.
I tried not to hang on the wall too long at the end of the 200. I stood once, briefly, on the way back. I stood at the end for a bit, and watched swimmers again. There were a couple of young guys who were fairly fast, and, apparently, jerks - they were standing next to me and one yelled down the water asking people if they could move. He expected swim lanes in Barton Springs. Jerk.
But, the jerk and his jerky buddy had something to teach, too - their heads were not in the plane of their body, but up out of the water a little bit. I've been staring straight down while swimming, which seems like it would be more efficient, but was causing some of the problem with getting water in the nose and mouth after I took a breath.
My third 200, I still did what I had to do to get through it, but I did so, only standing up once. At the end, my failure to grasp basic addition telling me 3 x 200=500, I decided to do one more 200 to make 800. I know, it makes no sense.
More watching swimmers. I saw a couple of people that looked competent (they had their own swim caps!), and noted that they turned way up out of the water, looking skyward every time. Again, I know this is probably not the most efficient, but in terms of making it easier to breathe, it seemed practical.
So, the last time down, I did pretty well. I was more determined, and I tried in the last 100 meters to breathe on every right stroke. The problem is, my best rhythm involved me bubbling out air in the water, then blowing the remainder out when turning to breathe, then sucking in what I could and shutting it down the intake before I put my face back in. The problem, more specifically, is that it sounds more like I have a blowhole than nostrils. I was catching glimpses of people looking at me, and that's the only reason I stopped and stood for just a second. I finished it up pretty well, though very self-consciously.
So, 800 meters, minimal stopping! It was taking me about 9.5 minutes per 200, I think, so I'm looking at probably 25 minutes for 500, if I can fall immediately into the right pace and rhythm.
I went and got my packet, and the people there were, of course, very cool and supportive, saying not to worry about anyone else, and use the kayaks and shallows if necessary. My goal is not to stand up, to get through the water on my own power, though I might grab a kayak or two along the way, if I really need to.
I'm as ready as I've ever been, certainly more ready than I should hope to be in just five day's time. I told Christina, who's done a lot of these now, that I also know I haven't paid my dues in terms of training and preparation, but this has been a unique sort of experiment. Honestly, the triathlon for me is just a thing to do, largely a way to get out there and race on my bike. But the swim itself will, obviously, be the accomplishment for me. Spending 25 minutes or so swimming through the most mortal fear I have is something I probably need right now, something to get me reengaged in the struggle to improve myself, be stronger, be better, less afraid. Disappointments and uncertainties, regrets and fears, swirl around me, impede my momentum, pull me down, keep me from breathing easily. It doesn't have to be pretty or swift or efficient, but if I can, on Sunday, reduce them to so much water swam through, then how much better will Monday be?
