Swimming for the Pleasure it Brings

By ERIC CLARK

My practice, whether yoga or TI, provides a retreat from the distractions of life and becomes an anchoring point.

A few weeks ago I found myself driving up I-95 for a TI Weekend Workshop. I got up at 0230 and, while driving in those wee hours, had time to reflect on my sanity – did I leave it at one of the toll booths? What had possessed me to sign up for this madness? Eight years ago I was a hard-drinking sailor whose measure of fitness was my ability to survive eight hours on the mountain in order to get back to the after hours fun. Yes, I liked riding singletrack and weekend hiking trips. And, indeed, I always thought, “Wow if I got serious and did this everyday, I could really hammer.” But a plan or commitment? Nope.

It was a winding road, but my idea of fitness has been overhauled. A number of things collided at the right time and my outlook and goals have shifted. At the root of it all, this shift comes from one thing –practice. In yoga, a practice is not just something you do, but a path you choose. You practice TI, not just to swim better, but for the pleasure it brings. My practice, whether yoga or TI, provides a retreat from the distractions of life and becomes an anchoring point.

I also came to understand that to get in shape, I didn’t have to “red line” every time I got on the elliptical trainer, I just had to commit to the practice of it. My training routine has become a part of my life and I look forward to rolling out of bed at 0400 to begin. Beyond the physical demands, I am concentrating more and more on each component. I’ve taken off the head phones – most of the time – and now concentrate more on the doing rather than getting it done.

As a kid playing soccer, I used to enjoy practice. It was a chance to go to the park at an evening hour when I was normally supposed to be home. My friends were all on the team and since it was Oregon, a number of those practices were spent on the best of fields…a muddy one. As I got older, the stakes rose and practice became more serious. Laughing and giggling was replaced with game faces lest we end up on the dreaded cut list. If you sucked and thought it was just a game, you didn’t make the team. At the pinnacle of my team sports career, on the JV second string, practice was a downright drag. I’d stand at the back of the drill line for 10 minutes just to prove once again that I could kick the ball anywhere except where the coach wanted it. I sucked, but there was more camaraderie among us misfits at the back of the line than among the guys destined for letters at the front.

For all the hype and pressure of high school sports, there wasn’t one person at the 10-year reunion who was making a living playing soccer. Sure some of the guys made varsity then, but today we’re merchant seamen, doctors, teachers, carpenters, insurance salesmen and even one brainy guy with a PhD in physics. It leaves me wondering why the emphasis wasn’t more on having fun and developing lifetime health habits. At 35, I’m in better shape than ever, without running myself ragged on a soccer field.

What does this have to do with swimming? It’s about practice, about coming home from the TI workshop, itching to show off my new stroke but drilling instead. After all, do my fellow pool rats give two figs that my stroke count went from 20 to 12? Well, even if they do, I put on my Fistgloves and for the last two weeks, I’ve been practicing, practicing, practicing. Three ZipperSwitches and then back to Sweet Spot: Ommmmmmm yoga breath ommmmmm. “Is this training?” I ask myself as I snort water during an uncoordinated moment. But I can feel both form and awareness developing as the drills start to imprint. The words of wisdom I got long ago when I was begging to learn the secrets of surfing continue to ring true, “Time in the water, Grasshoppah.”

I did have a panic attack yesterday. In another moment of temporary insanity, I signed up for a sprint tri in April. All well and good until I realized that I’m actually going to have to swim –gulp– in open water, meaning physically preparing myself to swim 500 meters with no place to rest along the way. It seemed like the hand of destiny when the lanes were packed with a Master’s training session. TI drills don’t seem to mesh well when in the company of those who are seeking the red line, so I jumped in and started swimming whole stroke.

I immediately realized I couldn’t find my comfortable rhythm and my breathing felt forced. Still there were moments of hope and I realized this challenge could be valuable rehearsal for the potential mayhem of a triathlon swim leg. After a lifetime spent in and around the water, I only really started swimming last year. My first sessions were humbling and yesterday’s session reminded me of those. Last year, my progress was painfully slow. It took me three months and a sympathetic Masters coach before I finally swam uninterrupted for an hour. Admittedly it was a very human stroke but an hour is nothing to sneeze at. Although I couldn’t link together more than two efficient lengths yesterday, I felt more confident in my stroke than ever. In one sense, I’ve regressed to ground zero, but this time I’ve got a good ladder and a better plan. Even better, it feels like a summer evening down at the park…

Eric Clark is a Chief Mate aboard a ship based out of Baltimore that installs and repairs fiber optic submarine cable. He and his wife, Sheila, make their home on the windward side of O’ahu where he pursues the best things in life – surfing, R/C airplanes and beautiful hikes. And the future? Who knows? With a lot of TI drills, a decent bike and some good shoes - ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE (echo of gauntlet in the background)….

Comment on this article