Waterblogged

I'm excited today. I'd like to say it is because of the short breaststroke sets we did this morning, or because of the hour long swim tomorrow morning, or even because of Halloween (and those things are great)...but no. We've been waiting, at my little company, Adiri , for a story to run in the USA Today in which we are mentioned, and it looks like tomorrow is the day. Not only will we be mentioned somewhere...but I just got a call and it looks like the story will be on PAGE ONE of the USA Today. This is just too fun. So I had to tell my fellow swimmers to look for it. I hope, now that I've pumped it up, it runs! :) Today we basically did lots of short breast and free...tomorrow we long free folks will be satisfied. :)

I was feeling ICK before I got into the pool, and feeling lucky too after talking to my special always-online-at-4AM-just-like-me neighbor who was lamenting her inability to leave the kids for a swim this morning. Not me! I was leaving! The caretaker in me almost offered to skip my swim in order to let her go since it sounded like she needed it worse than me. But apparently I'm not that selfless. I have fought these demons and I am now okay with my own selfishness when it comes to early morning swims. But I still feel bad for my friend. Just not bad enough to skip my swim. Okay then. *warmup: not sure. I was late because I was feeling as if maybe I should rescue my friend *30 minute straight swim (oh boy, next Wed is going to be painful) *3x100's changing leader each 100 done as drafting, stroke choice, mixed stroke (such as fly arms with breast kick) repeat 2x

"Dear G-d, please let this be the last length of breastroke Tim requires..." I remember, years and years ago, when I first met Chris ("Smitty"). There was a breastroke set, and I didn't know what his strengths were yet (FLY!). I turned to him to see if he wanted to lead and said "Are you good at breastroke?" (because I, certainly, am not). He looked at me and said, "Why don't you just ask me if I beat my wife? No. No, I'm not good a breastroke." He meant "beat my wife" as in pummel/hit/abuse, not as in beat her in breastroke, and that was immediately clear to me from his deliciously sarcastic tone. Tendencies toward spousal abuse and being a fast breastroker are clearly mutually exclusive, but for some reason this response really worked for me. And now, every time we do breastroke, I think about that day, and how glad I am that Chris is a strong butterflier, not a spousal abuser. And I laugh, even as my hip flexor muscle is

I'm offering up all my negative thoughts to the universe in a very unlike-me Yogic fashion today, after finishing the chapter "Pray" in the book Eat, Pray, Love , and after using a pull buoy this morning. Huh? I don't pray. I swim. Honestly, praying just hasn't been me. I guess I come from a 100% self-reliance sort of place. There's certainly a lot of luck or chance involved in where I've gone and who I am, but divine intervention? I think not. And then there's that I'm-not-sure-if-there's-a-God thing. But this chapter in this book just may have changed my mind a bit (although I found the author quite self-indulgent and out of touch with reality at points)...not about praying in the traditional sense of asking for divine intervention, but about what praying actually is and can be. A prayer doesn't have to start with "Dear God, please..." or actually with anything at all (but, of course, it can if that helps you). It doesn't ha

After reading Emmit's comments on my similarly titled post I would like to say that I'm sorry if anyone took it seriously. I would never want to hurt anyone's feelings at all - this post was totally just me being smart-alecky about my preferences and my need to breathe rather than talk between swims. I DO understand that learning happens in different ways and would never want to make anyone else feel bad. I know Emmit is really just too fast for me and is thus over in Lane 1 but still, I say come back! I won't bite and I won't be annoyed! (How could you be annoying anyway? Smiley man. It is always a happy swim when you're leading). Anyhoo, I believe I've already served my punishment in the form of this morning's workout. *warmup: 6 x 150's free with last 50 done as stroke in IM order *5 x 250's done as 100 IM, 100 free, then a 50 in reverse IM order (start with free, then breast, back fly) and descend them. *4 x 200's with 50 put in whereve

Here's a picture of my little guy at Ardennwood Farm this weekend, stressing over which pumpkin to pick. Little did I know when I took this photo that it would mirror how I felt this morning while trying to get my brain wrapped around the main set's structure. I didn't, until just before I began to lead it. I had a moment of panic (especially since I've written about LISTENING to Tim's sets :) and then it all became clear. *warmup: 600 straight free with every 6th length backstroke add pull gear for: *400 free *2 x 100's free *50 back -- *300 free *3 x 100's free *100 back -- *200 free *4 x 100's free *150 back *with or without pull gear: 800 straight with 100 "on" (fast) 100 "off"

Pity the poor soul who does not enjoy rhythmic meditation and who showed up for this morning's workout. Two 20 minute swims and 8 100's thrown in there somewhere was what today was all about. Normally I love this, and I'm loving it now as I sit at my desk rejoicing in stillness, but this morning I found the first 20 minute swim mentally challenging. I think it was because I knew there was another one to come. The second one was much more enjoyable. I thought about the book I finished last night during that second swim, and you HAVE to read this book. It's called Jesus Land and it's a memoir by a woman who now lives in San Francisco, but grew up in a very strict/abusive Christian household in the Midwest (and then a reform school in the Dominican Republic) with her adopted brother. Check out her website and then buy the book. You won't regret it.

Well. First Emmit trained for the Ironman and left all of us L2ers in the dust for L1B. Then, last week Whitney said "Wow. I haven't been swimming hard for so long. Like a year. I don't know why I stopped. It feels so good." "Crap", I thought, "I've been swimming hard the whole time and barely keeping up with her". She ducked under the lane line just a day later and is now leading in L1B. Then today, David, whom I happen to know has missed multiple swims and sat through long meetings that didn't give him any aerobic training lately, slid under the lane line as well, and together they all kicked my butt through the long pulling set. One of a few things is happening here. Either I'm getting slower (definitely possible), they're getting faster (almost 100% sure this is the case), or some sort of public elementary school-like transition (whereby Kindergarten is the new first grade, first grade is the new second grade, etc. etc.) is happ

Much like you are either a morning person or an evening person, you're either a talker through swim workouts, or a non-talker through swim workouts. By "talking" I'm not talking about the inane and sometimes unintelligible banter about who cheated more on the fly set or what one ate for dinner the night before. I'm talking about talking oneself through the set, as in, "okay, now 100 IM" and then 1 minute and 30 seconds later, "okay now another 100 IM". I'm a non-talker. And I'm a bitch. I get annoyed by the talkers, even though, bless their souls, they are simply trying to keep us all on track. They aren't doing any harm--just chatting it up in the pre-dawn hours--and I should smile and say "You're right! It is another 100 IM! Let's go for it!" but instead I curse inside and feel guilty for not responding (I'm trying to gather more air, dammit). Let's take it one step further. You're either a listener t

Yesterday I got up at 3:45 AM after switching back and forth between kids' beds to "CUDDLE WITH ME NOW!" and I didn't even get to hit the pool. Sure, I got 3 hours of work done before the rest of the world woke up (which is good because I have the kids all day on Mondays), but I was TIRED by 3PM. This morning when I awoke at 5:15 AM after sleeping all night in my own bed I felt as though I had been luxuriating in slumber at some type of spa resort. What the hell kind of life am I living, I ask you?! *warm up with some number of 200's free with 50's back (I was late) *3 x 200's free *3 x 150's free *3 x 100's free on all, rest for 10 sec before final 50 on 1st, 5 sec on 2nd, no rest on 3rd *2 x 200's free *2 x 150's free *2 x 100's free on all, swim straight through. on first effort of each distance final 50 is done as 12.5 yards fly, 12.5 yards kick up and back. on second effort, all free. *5 x 50's first length free, second length

*warm up with 300, 200, 100, 4 x 50's free *3 x 100's free to set pace for 10 min swim *10 minute swim *2 x 100's free to set pace for 10 min swim *10 minute swim *5 x 100's as IM, weakest stroke, sprint, one lap underwater, kick *1 x 100 3 count to loosen

...Were discussed in the women's locker room this morning that prompted "Sarah, this is off limits for the blog" comments. I just thought I'd throw that out there for you men. Discuss. *warm up: 3 x 200's done as 5 laps free, 2 laps back, 1 lap kick *big-ass set with fins: 3 x 100's free 150 kick 1 x 50 back with one stroke every five kicks 3 x 100's free 150 kick 2 x 50 back with one stroke every five kicks 3 x 100's free 150 kick 3 x 50 back with one stroke every five kicks *smaller-ass set without fins: 3 x 50's free 50 kick 1 x 50 back with one stroke every five kicks 3 x 50's free 50 kick 2 x 50 back with one stroke every five kicks 3 x 50's free 50 kick 3 x 50 back with one stroke every five kicks

I'm sore. Not like a "whew, that butterfly set yesterday made me a little tight" sore. More like a "yup, that school bus that hit me yesterday was rather hard and yellow" sore. Usually my co-ed soccer team plays on regular grass. But now the town of Portola Valley is refurbishing the field, and we've moved to Woodside Elementary. Who would have guessed that an elementary school would build an AstroTurf soccer field? Why did they do this? I know it's fun to run your cleated foot against the turf and see millions of little white Styrofoam balls pop up like a rooster tail coming off a slalom ski, but it is NOT advisable for a thirty-five-year-old swimmer to play soccer on. I have very little grace when I play soccer, and a lot of aggression. I bounce off those big old men like a pinball and I fall a lot. It's fun, I like getting nutty on the field, but on Sunday I found out that falling all over AstroTurf feels like being tossed from a bicycle onto pave