Accepting the Gift of Air

By STEVE LEVEEN

I acquired priceless water awareness, including that counter-intuitive yet marvelous feeling that the more I relaxed my head into the water as I rolled to breathe, the more the water pushes it back up. I learned that air is not to be taken but accepted.

Like many others I sought out Total Immersion after a mortifying experience in my first triathlon. During the quarter-mile ocean swim I learned the hard way that I didn’t really know how to swim at all. Despite being a windsurfer, kayaker, sailor, scuba diver and lover of the ocean, I’d never had formal coaching and hence had perfect “human-swimming” form. Panting and hyperventilating, I flopped over on my back, like some wounded wildebeest, ready to be culled from the herd. Feeling near panic, I would have welcomed rescue by the lifeguards except it would have taken too much effort to raise my arm and yell. I can joke about it now, but it wasn’t funny then. The wave (of women) that started seven minutes after my wave, swam right over me before I could round the second buoy. Thanks to the cheering folks on the beach, I stumbled onto shore, then managed to complete the race.

Ten months later, I’m a different man. Part fish, it seems. Most mornings, I swam a mile and a half in the ocean – even in rough seas – and love every minute. The key difference is that I now enjoy the luxury of having all the air I needed. The recent series of breathing-skill articles in Total Swim provide the clues to help others breathe just as easily.

For me it began with taking a 1-Day Workshop at the TI Swim Studio in New Paltz six months ago. There I learned the basic mechanics of TI – being long and sleek, using my hands to keep my “vessel” long, head in line, and rolling like a log – with my head going along for the ride – to get air. For a month or more after the workshop, I practiced mainly UnderSwitch drills to make this kind of movement a habit. As I did, I acquired priceless water awareness, including that counter-intuitive yet marvelous feeling that the more I relaxed my head into the water as I rolled to breathe, the more the water pushes it back up (lovely water). I learned that air is not to be taken but accepted.

Two months later, Terry joined me on a sailing trip around the island of Martinique in the Caribbean. We swam for up to an hour after dropping anchor each afternoon, giving most of our attention to fitting breathing seamlessly into the whole stroke. The breakthrough for me came from concentrating on the exhale – bubbling out gently from the moment I completed my inhale, and adding an extra spurt just as my face surfaced. At first I thought Terry’s suggestion to focus on the exhale was a Jedi mind trick, but reading in Total Swim how CO2 builds up and makes you want air, it became clear how sensible it is to purge the airways and bloodstream as completely as possible of that tiring CO2. Since reading the article I’ve even used “inside-out breathing” to improve my running.

Since I began concentrating on the exhale and almost ignoring the inhale, I learned that I can also use this focus to remain relaxed as I swim faster. When I get a bit tired, I exhale more deliberately. And of course this relaxation also leads to easier breathing–they go hand in hand, like a nice slow dance.

All this breathing practice brought back something I learned 35 years ago as a musician, but never imagined might apply to swimming. In my training as a brass player (trumpet was my instrument) I learned to inhale fast and from the bottom (diaphragm). Brass players do this to fill their lungs as quickly as possible and also have breathing supported from the bottom up. I learned that the more sharply you push out your stomach the quicker air rushes in…which could be useful as I gain the skill to increase my stroke rate, without losing form.

And when I visualize how people typically take a big breath – expanding the chest and raising the shoulders – it seems possible that belly-breathing might help both with maintaining a sense of relaxation and a streamlined, torpedo-shaped body. I invite other TI swimmers to experiment and judge for yourselves.

In the meantime, I’ve mailed my entry for the same triathlon that was so mortifying last year. But this year I look forward to diving in with confidence and joy.



Steve Leveen, Co-Founder (with his wife Lori) and CEO of Levenger, Inc, is the author of The Little Guide to Your Well-Read Life (Levenger Press, 2005) and conducts workshops on the topic for organizations. He has also written on the human side of technology for The New York Times, The Los Angeles Times, The Boston Globe and The Christian Science Monitor. Steve serves on the board of the National Book Foundation and is a member of the Chief Executives Organization. He swims in the ocean near his home in Delray Beach FL as often as possible.

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