Surviving "Tortoise Time"

I’ve been a naughty blogger.  I have not been nearly as consistent as I would like to be and for that I apologize.  I’ve come to the point in my training, and in my blogging, at which routine is necessary.  With swimming this means being in the pool three to four days a week, consistently swimming lap after lap, growing stronger and building endurance.  This is an extremely important point, which I have dubbed “tortoise time”, because it requires me to be slow and steady.  It isn’t flashy or exciting, but it is the most important part of the process, the part that will transform me from a person trying to swim across the Hudson into the swimmer who will.

While tortoise time is very important to my success at making it across the river, it does not make for a thrilling read.  As someone new to blogging, I worry that I will not be interesting enough, that I will bore you out of your minds or worse, that in an attempt to keep things interesting I will say too much.  Those of you who know me in real life, are aware that I am an over-sharer of the highest class; I rarely have a thought that I believe worthy of keeping to myself.  However, I was raised by brilliant parents who taught me (after a note I sent to a young man who had wronged me made its way to the Principal), that I should use caution when putting things in writing.

Feedback would be extremely helpful.  What brings you back to the blog? What are you interested in reading about in this process? How much do you really want to know?  Just as my coaches can help me become stronger as a swimmer, I hope you all will feel comfortable helping me along.

In the coming weeks I am going to do my best to create routines and stay consistent in swimming and in blogging. I hope you will keep me in your thoughts and keep cheering me along as I trudge along, slow and steady to the finish line.  I appreciate it so much.

The Open Water

On Saturday, I finally got to take part in an open water swim in the Hudson.  It was a beautiful day in the Hudson Valley; the sky was a clear blue and cloudless, without the haze that sometimes hides the far shore. It was warm but not oppressive, a perfect day for taking on the river.

As I drove to the beach club where I was meeting the team, my stomach churned with worries.  Would my stitches be a problem? Would I be so far behind that I wouldn’t complete the scheduled ¾ mile? When I arrived at the club, one of my teammates mentioned that she had been reading the blog and has felt many of the same fears I’ve been expressing throughout.  It was nice to feel the camaraderie of shared fears, to know that I was not alone, but it was also a reminder that sometimes I swim with fear wrapped around my ankles like buoys dragging behind me, slowing me down, holding me back.

As I entered the water, someone asked if anyone was nervous, I, of course, raised my hand, when I asked what I was nervous about, I responded cheekily “oh, you know, dying”.  Even though I was clearly being a smartass and masking fear with a joke, it occurred to me that while the likelihood of that happening for me was fairly low, it isn’t for those I am trying to support.

The swim itself went fine, though it was very hard. For the first quarter mile I could not remember how to stroke and kick and breathe simultaneously, I swallowed about half the river and managed to smack one of my teammates on the rear (oops!). During the second quarter mile, the waves picked up and I forgot how to swim completely, though I was rapidly becoming a river chugging champ! By the end of the third and final lap around the big orange buoy, however, I could, for the first time, envision myself crossing the finish line on September 10^th.  I still have a long way to go and I’m sure there are still setbacks and bumps to overcome, but I will keep swimming, and blogging, and bothering you for money, and getting a little farther every time.

Treading Water

A few days ago, a group of us swam together and at the end of the workout, someone mentioned that they needed to work on treading water, in preparation for the open water swim.  I laughed, crossed my legs like a yogi and bobbed along like a rubber ducky. As a naturally buoyant person, I don’t need to work very hard to stay afloat. As a result, I loathe treading water; I find it extremely frustrating, neither moving forward nor relaxing, working hard but not really getting anywhere.

The last few weeks have felt like treading water, I’m working hard in my workouts, but because of my injury I don’t feel like I’m progressing fast enough. I worry that I won’t be able to meet my fundraising goals without completely alienating everyone around me. The holiday schedule made it hard to find pool time, things are busy at work and everyone else seems to be making progress while I thrash around in place growing increasingly convinced that I won’t be able to make it to the finish line.

Some days it feels like giving up would be the easiest route, to just relax, float along with the current and stop working so hard. However, today is not that someday.  Today I’m going to keep pushing myself to keep my head above water, even if it doesn’t feel like progress. You see, the wonderful thing about treading water is that it gives you time to look around and get pointed in the right direction so when you finally overcome inertia and start moving again, you end up right where you belong.