What Do You Blog About When You Have a Bad Attitude?

April 25, 2012 by Katie

Personally, I try to keep my mouth shut.  So in the past 13 weeks, I've only posted once about my Swim the Suck training.

In case you're new to the blog, I'm training for a 10-mile swim, Swim the Suck, this October.  Why would I want to swim 10 miles?  Open water swimming is fun.  The longer the swim, the more fun (I was thinking). 

I feel embarrassed when I get a bad attitude about my training.  I'm in it for the love of the game.  No one is forcing me to do this.  In fact, it's expensive in terms of time and money.  I should be am grateful that I have the resources to do it.

But, MAN!  The past 13 weeks have been tough.  Before my official training started, I was swimming 21,000 yards per week.  By week 12, I was swimming 30,000 yards per week, including lots of drills and slow technique work.  Plus 3-4 yoga classes per week. 

I felt tired all the time, but I didn't realize it.  I was so used to being tired, it seemed normal.  What I noticed was feeling rushed, lazy and ungrateful.  My intervals were getting faster, but my long swims were getting slower.  I raced a 7K and posted my slowest times in the past 18 months.  And I wasn't enjoying the long swims.  (What?!)  I had "What am I doing with my life?" nightmares.

The worst part was that I didn't understand why I was feeling that way--I didn't feel any more tired after a workout than I did before it.  It was just a slow, sneaky buildup of fatigue.

I'm in the second phase of my training now--lower volume, higher intensity.  The high intensity workouts are fun, and the lower volume means I have more time to lollygag.  (I love me some lollygagging.)  I feel like a happy, grateful, positive, WaterGirl again.  I even enjoyed my 4.5 mile swim over the weekend. 

This too shall pass.  In a few more weeks, my yardage will go back up again.  Maybe I'll handle it more gracefully next time.  Maybe not.  Either way, I'm staying in the game.

Maybe in the end, I'll know enough to write a post about "What I learned Training for Swim the Suck and Why it Was or Wasn't Worth It."  Not today.  Today I'm just grateful to be enjoying the journey.

What about you?  Does your training ever get the best of you?  How do you handle it?

Bartlett Lake Water Levels

April 18, 2012 by Katie

Before I came to Arizona, I pictured it like the Sahara Desert.  Gold sand dunes.  Gold rocks.  Not a plant or a drop of water in sight. 

The Sonoran Desert is nothing like that.  The prevailing color is green.  Everything blooms.  The rocks and mountains are red, purple, yellow, orange and brown.  The trees don't look like "regular" trees, but they're pretty, and there are a lot of them.

There's one exception:  Bartlett Lake is so low, it's starting to remind me of the Sahara Desert. These are Jon Ford's pictures from March 23, 2012.

Current Status

The water level is starting to rise.  It's higher now than it was in March.  I've heard that SRP has stopped releasing water from the Bartlett Dam.  Visually, it looks just a little lower than it was in November of 2011.

You can check the current water levels here.

What about Swimming?

Bartlett is still great for swimming.  In fact, the swimming situation hasn't changed much at all.

Background on Bartlett Reservoir

Bartlett Reservoir is part of the Verde River system.  Sullivan Lake, near Prescott, AZ, is the source of the Verde River.  It's a man-made lake fed by rain and snow melt from Big Chino Wash and Williamson Valley Wash. 

It flows for about 125 miles until it reaches Horseshoe Reservoir.  The water flows from the Horseshoe Dam into Bartlett Reservoir.  When it passes the the Bartlett Dam, the water returns to the Verde River.  From there, it runs free for about 15 miles until it reaches the Salt River.

Most of the land in the Verde River system is national forest land.  The water in Horseshoe and Bartlett reservoirs is managed by SRP.  That system (along with the Colorado River and Salt River) provides drinking water and hydroelectric power for the Phoenix metropolitan area.

In a normal year, water levels in Bartlett Reservoir can fluctuate wildly.  Horseshoe Reservoir usually fills up in the Spring.  As the summer heats up, evaporation becomes a problem because it's so shallow.  When that happens, Horseshoe is emptied into Bartlett, and Bartlett water levels  rise.

As water is released thru the Bartlett Dam, the levels drop.

View Verde River System in a larger map

How Did It Get This Low?

In Fall/Winter of 2010, Bartlett Reservoir was drained to facilitate repairs to the dam.  At the time, everyone I spoke to expected it to fill back up to normal levels by Spring.  That didn't happen.  The water level rose slightly in the Spring of 2011.  And then it dropped steadily for the rest of 2011 and early 2012. 

I've never found a definitive answer on why Bartlett Reservoir dropped so low.  A dry winter in 2010/211 is part  of the story, but I think there's more to it.  For whatever reason, most of the water that found its way into Bartlett Reservoir during that time was allowed to pass downstream.

During that same time, the lakes in the Salt River system (Canyon and Sagauro at least) stayed at normal levels.

Pics from 2010-2011

Here's what Bartlett Lake looked like in August of 2010.  The vegetation came right down to the water level

And then in August of 2011:

Have you heard any official news about the water levels?  If you know more than I do, please speak up!

I'm Actually Starting to Enjoy Cold Water

March 24, 2012 by Katie

Enjoy cold water?  Seems impossible.  Especially for a heat-loving desert flower such as myself. 

I kicked off my 2012 open water season with a quick dip on February 28th.  I spent less than 10 minutes in 55-degree water (13°C).  Since then, I've braved the cold water 3 more times. 

Second Attempt - March 6th

This time the water was up to 57°F (14°C).  The air temperature was about 60°F (16°C), and we had some sunshine.  I stayed in the water for about 30 minutes, treading water and chatting with my friends.  I hadn't seen those girls all winter, and hanging out with them in that beautiful spot felt like a party. 

Back at the shore, a flock of birds landed on my swim bag.  I knew from experience that couldn't end well.  The cold water must have frozen my brain-to-mouth filter because I shouted something unprintable at those birds.  Amazingly, they flew away without defiling anything.

I felt perfectly comfortable hanging out in the water, but I didn't feel like swimming.  At the end, I manned up enough to swim about 25 yards of decent freestyle.

When I got home, I decided that next time I would push myself to do a real swim.  I would just go ahead and do it whether I felt like it or not.

Third Attempt - March 13th

We'd had a week of warm weather, so the lake temperature was up to 62°F (17°C).  It was a sunny afternoon and the air temperature was in the 80s (28°C). 

This time, I was swimming with a friend who was there to train.  I knew he wouldn't put up with much lollygagging.  We both eased our way into the water.  Like all of my cold water swim buddies, he was wearing a full wetsuit, neoprene booties and a neoprene cap. He was ready to start swimming after about 3 minutes.  He asked if I wanted to swim out to the buoy.  I hadn't even gotten my head wet.  I told him to swim out and back while I finished acclimating.  Once he got to the buoy, I knew I had to wet my head.  I went under a few times and then started swimming toward him.

When I got out there, I asked him to tell me I was doing a good job.  I always feel like a big wimp in cold water.  It takes me so long to get going, and I get scared.  I think it should be easy by now, but it's not.  So I needed a quick little, "Good job, K".  He said a whole bunch of nice things about what a great job I was doing.  That made a big difference. 

We swam back and forth between the buoys for .8 miles.  After 10 minutes, I started feeling really warm.  That sensation used to scare the heck out of me, but this time it just felt weird.  After another 10 minutes, my thighs started feeling cold.  I told him I felt cold, but I shouldn't feel cold.  He told me to get moving.  We swam for another 10 minutes, and then swam in.

I was cold in the car on the way back.  I wouldn't let him turn on the A/C, and he wouldn't let me turn on the heat.  I cranked it up once I got back to my own car, though.

Fourth Attempt - March 20th

Finally, it started to click. 

It had been a cold week.  The air temperature was 44°F (7°C), and the water temperature had dropped.  I took one reading at 58°F and another at 56°F (13°C).  Getting in wasn't fun.  I was with a different friend this time, so I told him the rule about telling me I'm doing a good job.  He said a bunch of nice things that helped me relax. 

He swam out to the buoy while I finished acclimating, and then I breaststroked my way out toward him.  After about 25 yards, I switched to freestyle.  He could see what a hard time I had at the beginning, so he was worried about me.  But once I started swimming, I felt fine. 

After about 10 minutes, I started feeling great.  This is exhilarating.  My body is warm, and the water feels like a cool, crisp adventure.  We swam for another 10 minutes, and then my friend wanted to swim back in.  When we got halfway in, he stopped and said that he'd forgotten how much he liked it out there.  He didn't want to go in after all.  He hung out while I did another loop and a half of the buoys.  I came back in at the end of 30 minutes so he could get back to civilization.  But I would have loved to stay in for another 10 minutes.

He said my lips were blue, but blue is a good color for me so I'm sure I looked great.  I was shivering a little, and it took me awhile to warm up in the car.  Good thing I drove by myself--I got to crank the heat all the way up.

The Moral of the Story

I spent last Spring and Fall struggling with cold water.  I froze in water as warm as 70°F and as cold as 60°F.  I kept at it.  I swam in cold water 15 times in 2011.  By cold, I mean whatever felt cold to me at the time.  I always had fun on those swims, but I never understood the idea of liking the cold.  Here's what changed by the 19th cold swim:

• Persistence eventually pays off.
• I figured out what I needed and learned to ask for it.  I need encouragement.  I need to feel like my friends are watching out for me.  In the beginning, I tried to act braver than I felt because I was embarrassed to be having such a hard time.
• I learned a lot from other cold water swimmers, especially the ones who've commented on this blog.  Evan, Donal and Bubbles have been especially helpful.  I learned from them how to recognize the signs of hypothermia.  Just as important, I learned to recognize what things are not signs of hypothermia.  The comments on this blog also put my family at ease which was a load off my mind.
• Yoga helped me deal with the alternating sensations of hot and cold.  In yoga, we pay a lot of attention to the heat our bodies generate.  Because of that, it suddenly made sense that I could feel very warm once I got moving, even though the water felt cold on my skin.

Swimming in cold water is a strange feeling.  For a long time, my brain has interpreted those odd sensations as a sign of danger.  With enough practice, encouragement, and education, that stopped happening.  I was amazed and exhilarated to feel how my body could warm itself.  The human body is a miracle.  It's a joy to be living in one.

Have you had a breakthrough moment?  Are you waiting for one?

Happy St. Patrick's Day

March 17, 2012 by Katie

Thanks to my readers, I'm all decked out for St. Patrick's Day at the pool.  Special thanks to Nicole for finding me this suit and Bubbles for egging me on.

To find out how they do Real St. Patrick's Day in Ireland, check out LoneSwimmer.  He seems a little tepid on wearing green for the big day.  But, as the Official SpokesMermaid for the Irish-American community, I assure you that wearing green is imperative.  Green beer, not so much.  Corned beef, I can go either way.  Irish soda bread (the yummy American version), defnitely.

I'll be celebrating with a little yoga, a 5,500-yard continuous pool swim, and a dryland outfit to rival the green swimsuit.  We'll see whether I can scare up the energy for anything else.  What about you?

First Open Water Swim of 2012

March 2, 2012 by Katie

"Swim" might be a little generous.  How about, "First Open Water Experience of 2012". 

I spent about 9 minutes in Saguaro Lake on Tuesday without a wetsuit.  It was a windy 47°F outside, and the water was 55°F. 

Why?

Not because I like the cold.  At all.  I live in one of the hottest places on earth, and I long for summer.  I don't wear a wetsuit because they're not allowed in marathon swimming.  If I ever want to do a "serious" ultra marathon swim (Manhattan Island, Catalina, etc.), I have to learn how to deal with cold water.  In fact, I have to learn to enjoy it.  Spoiler alert:  I'm not there yet.  Not even close.

I don't do this to torture myself.  I'm not interested in the whole the "man vs. nature" thing.  For one thing, I'm a GIRL!  I have a lot of friends who idolize David Goggins.

That's when he discovered the Badwater Ultramarathon—the legendary 135-mile race from the floor of Death Valley to Whitney Portal. He called race director Chris Kostman to see if he could get in. Kostman asked Goggins how many 100-milers he'd run. None. How many marathons? None. Kostman told him to get some ultramarathoning experience if he wanted to run Badwater.

Days later, he entered a 24-hour race in San Diego. The ordeal left him with broken metatarsals in both feet and a case of kidney failure, but he did crank out 100 miles in less than 19 hours. Ten days later, he ran the Las Vegas Marathon in 3:08. And for ample measure, he entered the H.U.R.T. 100-Mile Endurance Run, one of the hardest ultras in the world. Goggins finished ninth. All this was in the span of two months. --Runners World

God bless that guy for the charitable work he does.  Also for being tough and following his dreams.  But Yuck!  I'd rather get a DNF tattoo on my face than run myself into kidney failure. 

My First Experience in Cold Water

Last year, I got in Saguaro Lake on February 25th.  The water was 62°F at the shore.  Back then, 62°F felt unbelievably cold.  I got short of breath when I put my head in the water.  It felt like my head was going to explode.  I felt a little loopy.  I started singing  "I am so Great" by Bart Simpson. 

I had fun.  One of my friends rented a wetsuit to get in with me.  What a peach! 

In hindsight, I wasn't as cold as I thought I was.  More than anything, I had a strong reaction to an unfamiliar sensation.

In the year since that day, I've spent plenty of time in 60°F water.  I'm not comfortable at all, but I can do it.  I even managed to do 2 races in that temperature.

February 28th, 2012

On Tuesday, Saguaro Lake was 55°F.  Windy and 47°F on land.  I shivered getting in.  Up to mid-thigh, the water felt pretty comfortable.  After that point, the hands had to go in.  Ouch!  It took at least 5 minutes for my hands to stop hurting.  I dreaded putting my shoulders in, but that wasn't bad at all.  Same for my head.  I splashed water on my face before I went under.  No brain freeze. 

My friend (a different one) brought her stand-up paddle board out to support me.  I was cracking up because I was just standing there. She didn't have to paddle at all to keep up.  She kept encouraging me and telling me what a good job I was doing.  It's so nice to hear that!  Sometimes I feel like a big wimp.  After all, the swimming world is full of people who swim in really cold water without so much as a shiver.  Donnal, Gords, Josh, Goody, Rob and Bubbles to name just a few.  

I breaststroked over to her and then got out.  Nine minutes total.  I was cold for about 2 hours afterward, but no shivering, and no numbness.  That means I could have stayed in quite a bit longer.  Maybe even swam?  But good enough for the first attempt of the year.

Once again, I had fun.  As they say, "Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional." 

The Internet is out of St. Patrick's Day Swim Caps

February 27, 2012 by Katie

You heard right.  There's not a St. Patrick's Day swim cap to be found on the entire Internet.  How can this be?  St. Patrick's Day is the most important holiday (holiweek in our house) of the year.  Am I to swim in my everyday cap?  Or resort to an ugly shade of green?

If you're a longtime reader, you may remember that I already have a perfectly awesome St. Patrick's Day cap.

Well, I don't have it anymore.  I attended a swim clinic in La Jolla Cove in July, and one of the girls didn't have a cap.  She was nervous about swimming in the ocean.  She had red hair, so I thought she would appreciate borrowing this MOST FABULOUS of caps.  Which she did. 

But she didn't appreciate the gesture enough to return the cap.  Even though I hounded her about it on SEVERAL occasions.

So St. Patrick's Week is only two weeks away, and I don't have any leads on a cap.  SwimOutlet.com?  1Line Sports?  Speedo?  Tyr?  Evil Red-Headed Cap Stealer?  You're leaving me high and dry.

Does anyone know where I can get one?  Or do you know any good hitmen?  (Wait, scratch that last part.  I think I remember something in Blogging 101 about never using your blog to advertise for a hitman.)

Swim the Suck Training

February 20, 2012 by Katie

Today starts the 4th week of my official training for Swim the Suck.  By "official training", I mean that my coach is writing a weekly plan for me.

It's been an adjustment. 

I felt a lot of pressure, especially during Week 1.  Everyone knows I'm doing this.  Thanks to the blog, I run into people I've never met who know I'm training for a 10-mile swim.  What if I screw it up?  That thought woke me up more than a few nights.  I wasn't expecting to feel that way.  I do this for fun!  Absolutely nothing is riding on my performance.  And yet, the Official Training Plan shined a light on a dark place in my soul.

The swim training itself is only a little harder than what I was doing on my own.  But the overall Training Plan is much harder, mentally and physically.

Physically, the hardest thing about my training is adding yoga 3x per week.  Yoga is HARD.  I use family-friendly language on this blog.  That leaves me at a loss for words.  How can I describe The Beginning Yoga Experience without profanity?  My legs are shaking at the end of class.  I look like a zombie afterward.  (I thought I looked bad after swimming.  Yoga fatigue is even less beautiful than goggle marks.)  And I'm spent for the rest of the day.  I don't ever remember being as tired from swimming as I am from yoga.

Aside from the fatigue, I love yoga.  I've loved it since the very first class.  No matter how hard it is, I can feel how good it is for me, mentally and physically.

The first 2 weeks of my training plan, I missed my pace targets almost every day, on almost every rep.  Reasonable pace targets.  That took me to a dark place.  I was tired, giving 100% effort, and feeling like a failure.  Plus, I wasn't enjoying my swims.  That's never happened.  I was afraid I had permanently sucked the joy out of swimming by putting too much pressure on myself. (No pun intended.)

I started dreading my long, continuous swims.  I was supposed to swim those at my "Swim the Suck" pace.  I felt lonely and miserable.  I was far from that pace even though I was working hard.

Week 3, I started feeling better.  Here's what happened:

1. My coach told me to do the long swims at a more relaxed pace.  This was huge.  With the pressure off, I started getting faster on those and enjoying them more.  I'm still not at my target pace, but I know I can get there. 
2. I talked to an Ironman buddy.  Ironman training is WAY scarier than training for a 10-mile swim.  She told me things like "It takes awhile to get used to being on a plan."  And, "Your pace is off because you're tired.  That happens all the time."  I know she knows what she's talking about, and I took a lot of comfort from the feedback.
3. My yoga practice is helping me with the mental aspect of training.  It teaches me to stay in the moment, focus on my breathing, let go of the results.  As hard as the yoga has been on me physically, it's made my training easier.
4. I got used to being on a plan.  There are certain things I have to do.  It's not always convenient.  I have less time to chitchat in the locker room or at the wall between sets.  When my friends are leaving masters practice, I'm starting a new set.  Sometimes that feels like a big sacrifice.  Sometimes not.  Regardless, I'm doing this because I want to.

How do your goals affect the way you feel about swimming?  How do you handle it when the pressure gets you down?

Personal Record Today (Sort Of)

January 25, 2012 by Katie

Looking for a performance enhancing drug?  There's nothing better than Swimming with Friends.

If you've been following the soap opera that is Water Girl, you'll know that I had a Period of Greatness this past October.  For 10 days, everything I did was golden (swimming-wise, anyway).  Yadda, yadda, yadda, my carriage turned back into a pumpkin, and I've been making slow, steady improvements to my pre-breakthrough speed ever since. 

During the 10 Days of Glory, I swam 100 yards in 1:16.  Aside from those 10 Days, I've been stuck at 1:33 for six months.  I finally hit the 1:30 mark on January 2nd, pacing off of a friend.

That same friend had a breakthrough last week.  Since then, I've had to take it to a whole new level to keep up with him.  Today before Masters practice, he told me he'd swam 100 yards in 1:23 during his "warm-up".  "Do it again!" I begged.  "I want to get a 1:23!"

I knew if he could do it, I could do it too.  A different part of me takes over when I'm racing a friend.  It feels easy.  All I have to do is keep up or, even better, pull ahead.

We swam that one in 1:24, not 1:23.  I'll take it!

Another one of my friends was late to practice.  When I finished the set, she still had about half of it left to go.  I took off my cap and goggles, and told her about my PR while she was on a rest interval.  She's been hovering over the 1:30 mark herself, and she immediately moved into my lane and asked me to swim 100 yards with her.  I was tired, but (of course) I agreed.  I put my cap and goggles back on, and we swam the 100.

I have to say, it was not my best work.  All of my turns were bad.  You know those miserable turns where you don't get enough air or momentum?  Plus, my goggles weren't on right, so they filled with water.  On the 1:24, I did only right-side breathing (faster for me).  For this one, I alternated breathing sides every length, like I normally do. 

We came in at 1:30, and she hit her goal.  If I'd hit my turns, I would have been faster, and she would have sped up to match me. 

Friends don't let friends beat them by more than 1 second.

Race Report: 1-Hour Postal Swim

January 22, 2012 by Katie

In case you're not familiar with the term, a Postal Swim is a virtual swim meet.  The rules are a little different for each one, but here's the gist:  You swim in whatever pool you choose, at a time that's convenient for you.  A friend times you and records your splits.  They're called "Postal" because back in the olden days, you had to send in your results via US Mail.  In modern times, you enter your results online.

I love Postal Swims.  All of my other long-distance races are in open water.  Anything can affect an open water performance:  weather conditions, drafting, navigation, congestion at the turns, inexact measurement of the course, etc.  But when you do a Postal Swim, the conditions are precise.  You know exactly how fast you swam and how well you held your pace.

The last Postal Swim I did was the 3,000-Yard in October.  A week before that swim, I'd seen an underwater video of myself and had a breakthrough.  A few days later, I had the race of my life.  For about 10 days, my practice times were off the charts. 

Until that point, I'd swam all of my Postal Swims with a friend who's much faster than I am.  This time, I'd convinced my best pacing buddy to swim with me.  I was thrilled about having someone to race with for 3,000 yards.  I was looking forward to The Most Fun Ever.  I had the pre-race jitters, but I couldn't stop smiling.  I felt like a kid on Christmas morning.

I shot out really fast.  In fact, I found out later, I swam the first 50 yards in 0:26.6 (17 seconds faster than my previous PR).  I took 15 strokes per length, and the pace felt exuberant but not hard.  That put about 25 yards between me and my friend.  Then two things happened:  1.) I knew I had gone out too fast, so I reigned myself in, and 2.) I felt like Christmas had been canceled. 

Maybe I'm going a little heavy on the drama with the whole Christmas-has-been-canceled thing.  But hear me out.  I love swimming with friends who are close to my speed.  My thinking brain turns off, and my animal brain takes over.  I feel like a sea creature.  Or a puppy.  Don't get me wrong--I want to win.  But it's the racing I love, not the result.  When I'm racing a friend, I feel like we're on the same team.  I'm rooting for us both.

There are 3 people on my Masters team who are about my speed, plus several more who can give me a run for my money on the sprints.  I love swimming with those guys and joking around on the rest intervals.  Love it.  When I shot out so fast on the 3,000-Yard swim, I felt like I was swimming away from my community.  I felt sad about it.  My fastest 50 after that was 0:48.8 and my slowest was 0:54.0. 

A few days later, I had a disappointing race and hurt my neck.  It took a couple weeks of easy swimming to get  back to normal.  Since then, I've seen slow, steady improvements to my pre-breakthrough pace, but I've never come anywhere near the PR's I hit that week.

In the 3 months since that 3,000 Yard Postal Swim, I've learned a little more about the power of competition/collaboration.  I've realized that my friends are not going lie back while I suddenly start swimming circles around them.  When one of us improves, it pushes the others to improve too. 

I realize that I don't have to hold back to hold onto my sense of community.  It'll work out.

So, fast forward to the 1-Hour Postal Swim.  I made a few mistakes at the beginning.  I usually take 200 calories worth of gels before a race, but I forgot and only took 100 calories.  Also, I forgot to hit start on my watch.

I lost count of where I was after about 100 yards.  I just focused on trying to lap my friend.  I caught a glimpse of him once every 50 yards.  I counted how many strokes it took between pushing off the wall and seeing him.  I tried to make the count grow every time. 

Eventually, I lapped him and got about a body length ahead.  By that time I was HUNGRY.  I had no idea how far I'd gone.  I didn't know if I had 40 minutes left or 10.  I couldn't see the pace clock unless I did an open turn, and I wasn't willing to sacrifice the time.  I felt miserable, but I was still enjoying the feel of the water.  I didn't know how much longer I could keep up my pace.  I missed 2 turns, and my friend gained some ground. 

Finally I did an open turn and asked the counter how much time.  He either said 50 or 15.  I was hoping for 50, but either way, I was on the home stretch.  I picked up my pace.  My friend picked up his pace too.  I automatically adjusted to preserve my lead.  I couldn't gain any more ground, but I didn't lose any.  I knew he was helping me by speeding up, and I appreciated it.

My offical distance was 3,510.  I think I actually went 3520, but it's hard to guage those partial lengths.  Short of my goal (3,625), but I had plenty to be happy about.  Here's a comparison of my 3,000-Yard and 1-Hour splits:

Even without the crazy, breakthrough speed at the beginning, my 1-Hour pace was faster than my 3,000-Yard pace.  And my splits were much more consistent. 

After I finished, I wolfed down a gel, and hung out in the water for a little while.  I was spent.  I was too tired to get out of the pool, so I just kept swimming.  I swam a bunch of easy 50s and then dragged myself across the pool deck to the shower.

I wish I could find my way back to whatever I was doing differently during Those 10 Days.  But I feel a sense of peace about it.  I'll get there when I get there.  I know it isn't lost forever.  Meanwhile, my 1-Hour pace was fast enough to make the cut-off for Swim the Suck, even when I account for feedings and the lack of push-offs. 

All I have to do now is train hard and have fun.  Even on the toughest days, this is a lot of fun.

Swim Clinic for Challenged Athletes

January 20, 2012 by Katie

Last weekend, I had a chance to volunteer at a clinic put on by the great folks at Challenged Athletes Foundation.

I signed up the minute I heard about it.  I love para-athletics (competitive sports for people with disabilities).  It's inspiring. I like it when people try hard and chase their dreams, regardless of what their individual challenges are.  Even though I don't have a disability, I feel a common bond with those athletes.  They're doing the same thing I am:  getting out there, having fun, making friends, living a healthy lifestyle, and pushing themselves and each other to new heights.  Plus, some of them are extremely good athletes.

From where I'm sitting (not knowing what I'm talking about, in other words), competitive sports seem like a great way for disabled people to have a completely normal experience.  Athletes discuss their equipment, their training programs, etc.  Our bodies are just equipment.  It feels normal to ask a fellow athlete about his prosthetic leg or how a wheelchair cycle works. 

I worked with two different athletes during the clinic.  The first was Kevin, a young man 3 days from his 12th birthday.  He's missing a leg, but that doesn't slow him down.  His favorite sport is running.  In fact, he ran a mile in the morning before the swim clinic.  He was pretty agile on the pool deck, even without his prosthetic leg.  (I wish I could say the same for myself.  I tripped several times.)  He said he didn't  like swimming, but he was a darn good swimmer.  I swam along side of him while the coach gave him some pointers on technique.  I tried to reinforce the coach's instructions, but this was The Kevin Show.  He didn't need any help from me. 

For the second session, I got to work with Jen.  What a privilege that was.  Jen is in her 20s.  Very pretty.  Lovely, confident personality.  She'd had an accident 7 months earlier that left her paralyzed from the waist down.  This was her first time in the pool since the accident, but she was already active in kayaking and wheelchair cycling. 

Getting in the water took some maneuvering.  The coach was great about that.  My part was to stand in the water in front of her and "give her a hug" while the coach helped her forward and into the water.  The other volunteers helped stabilize her once she was in. 

The coach gave her some tips about balance.  I was surprised at how challenging that part was.  Since she couldn't control her legs, she had to be careful about making sudden movements.  Otherwise, her legs were liable to move somewhere she didn't want them and throw the rest of her body off balance.

At first, 3 of us volunteers took turns helping her balance.  We started out with one hand under her back and one under her head. Gradually, the coach had us reduce the amount of assistance.  By the end of the hour, she was sculling back and forth across the pool on her own.  We stayed by her side in case she needed help or wanted to rest.  But she was fine without us.  Yay, Jen! 

I have no idea what it's like to be in a wheelchair.  I imagine that if I were in a wheelchair, though, getting out of it to swim on my own would feel like Sweet Freedom.

There were some elite athletes there too, but I didn't get to talk to them.  Partly because I was busy with my little role, partly because I was shy.  I could kick myself for being shy.  Those men and women are PROUD of themselves.  I'm sure they wouldn't have minded telling me about their training.  Some of their strokes look exactly like any other (very good) swimmer's. Others had to make modifications.  I saw an impressive butterflier who didn't seem to be using her arms or legs.  Nice job, my friend.

Who inspires you?