Train with Terry: More Proof of the
Advantage of Stroke Efficiency

A lot has happened with me since I last wrote one of these reports on my own swimming, some of it great, some of it less so. But the outcome from my experiences has been tremendously encouraging from the standpoint of confirming the huge advantage of great efficiency over that of great fitness.

Last month I reported on my experiences in a 1650-yard Free (same distance as 1500-meters) race at a Masters meet in Richmond VA on Feb. 14. I was
so encouraged that, over the next two weeks I raised my training to a level
I had not seen in 10 years. It’s wonderful to swim as well at 53 as you did
at 43.

But then on Feb 29, I had a medical emergency, followed by surgery on March 5th. While my condition wasn’t life-threatening, I was in extreme discomfort for the five days prior to surgery and the first post-operative week. I took more pain killers over two weeks than I had taken cumulatively over the previous 50+ years, and most of the time was too weak to get out of bed or leave the house. The experience was deeply debilitating.

My surgeon had told me I could do any activity I felt comfortable doing, as soon as I felt up to it. On Sunday March 14, I felt finally well enough to go to Masters practice, intending to swim very slowly, very cautiously and perhaps not even attempt flip turns. I eased into the pool and started with a series of 10 x 100 Free on 1:45. I was surprised to find that my repeat times averaged about 1:22, only marginally slower than I might do under “normal” circumstances.

Next, two of my teammates were set to do a “T-30” test swim – a 30-minute swim for distance, used by many coaches to determine repeat and interval times for training. I had previously done two of these T-30 swims, completing 2175 yards in October and 2200 yards in November. This day I set no goals at all, other than to swim easily enough to continue without stopping for 30 minutes. I decided to start with a stroke count of 15spl, one stroke higher than I usually use for this kind of swim, mainly because I doubted I’d be strong enough to hold 14spl and wanted to avoid exertion.

Beginning at a very conservative pace, after 250 yards, I was feeling effortless, silky smooth, and surprised to be keeping pace with the faster of the two. I picked up my effort slightly and began to edge ahead. By 500 yards I had moved a couple of body lengths in front and continued to feel amazingly relaxed. After 1000 yards I decided to raise my stroke count to 16spl, aiming for a faster, lighter rhythm. I also worked at making my turns and pushoffs shallower to get back to air a bit quicker after each flip. Both worked well and I could feel my speed increasing, with barely any increase in effort.

Cutting to the chase, when I touched the wall as 30 minutes elapsed, I had swum exactly 2200 yards (an average of 1:21 per 100 yards), matching my best previous mark for a 30-minute swim…but with one major difference: The November swim hurt; I had to dig deep to hold the pace. The March 14 swim was a breeze. One could say that, after a 2-week layoff, I was well-rested. But I think this experience points far more to the benefits of prioritizing thoughtful and disciplined “nervous system training” over hard-working “aerobic system training.”

I’m well aware of what happens to many of my younger, stronger, fitter Masters teammates after they’ve had a layoff of a week or two (and without a debilitating surgery and recovery). If they’ve been beating me by significant margins prior to the layoff, afterwards I match or beat them for a week or two, while they struggle with rust from the layoff. While I, relying totally on my deeply-imprinted stroke efficiency, was able to return with barely a hiccup.

Even more striking is that the ensuing days showed just how much vigor I’d lost over those two weeks. On Monday, encouraged by my good swimming experience, I took a 60-minute yoga class. Though it wasn’t a demanding class, I found it utterly exhausting and it took two hours on the couch to recover. Tuesday I returned to swimming, trained fairly vigorously and felt good, during and after the swim. Wednesday I tried a light weight lifting session, which left me feeling utterly drained for over two hours afterward. Thursday I swam again, a total of 4400 yards in 90 minutes, but did nothing hard. Once again, I felt great both during and after swimming. So I seem to have definitely established that swimming agrees with me more than any other activity.

Which brings us to last weekend, March 20 and 21. In mid-February, I entered Masters meets on both days – a 1650-yard Free at the New England Masters Championships on Saturday and a 1000-yard Free on Long Island on Sunday. I had to travel to far-flung locations in order to swim both events, because the NEM meet required a choice between the 1000 and 1650. After the surgery I had despaired of being able to swim in either meet but I was sufficiently encouraged by how I swam during the week that I decided to go ahead and race.

When Saturday dawned in Boston, I was disappointed to find myself “having a bad day,” feeling sufficiently sick and weak that I lacked the appetite or energy to eat breakfast. Still, having driven four hours the day before and paid for a hotel room, I resolved to swim the race anyway, viewing it as a good test of my ability to compensate for adverse circumstances by using pure efficiency in stroking and pacing. I ended up finishing the “metric-mile” in 21:30, just 3 seconds slower than I had gone in mid-February, when I was feeling “in the pink.” As in all of my most successful races, I was quite conservative in the early going, yet without sacrificing too much in the way of speed. My stroke and turns felt so good that I was able to speed up significantly in the final third, when I was certain I wouldn't tire and fade. My three 550-yd (500m) splits were 7:16, 7:15 and 6:59! (My 550 splits in February were 7:17-7:11-6:59.) I swam the first half of the race in 15spl and shifted to 16spl the second half. On the final 550 I added pressure on my catch and kicked out of my turns more energetically. This time was good for 2nd in the 50-54 age group.

Sunday on Long Island, I raced a 1000-yard Free. I could feel the effect of the previous day’s mile race in the first 10 (of 40) lengths – an extra layer of fatigue and (though I had planned to swim the first 500 at 15spl and the second 500 at 16spl) I was able to hold 15spl for only the first 250 yards. Still, I was able to maintain my stroke length at 16spl until the final 100, when I needed 17spl to continue hitting my turns strongly. Despite the fatigue I maintained a solid effort level throughout. My 200-yard splits were 2:31-2:35-2:33-:2:31-2:30, nearly ideal pacing. And my final time of 12:42
is the fastest 1000 I’ve swum since doing a 12:30 in 1998.

What’s the lesson of this experience? First that efficient swimmers shouldn't worry much about unplanned gaps in their training. Years of consistent practice of efficiency lay down an unshakable foundation of stroke habits that are easy to access in almost all circumstances. My movement economy is such that the kind of fatigue that slows most swimmers – tired arms and legs – never affects me. And swimmers who use the core-body, have an engine that is almost immune to fatigue. Which is not to say that there were no affects. Following the 1650, in part because I had eaten nothing that day and finished swimming about 2:30 pm, I was feeling deeply depleted. But that energy shortage did little to slow me during the race, as I was able to swim the final 22 lengths of the 66-length race in the same brisk split as I’d done five weeks earlier.

What’s ahead for me? I’ll be swimming the 1650 two more times in coming weeks, on April 2 at the Colonies Zone Masters Championships and April 22 at the U.S. Masters Nationals, and have sky-high expectations after this past weekend. I’ll let you know how it goes.