I never know what exactly I'm going to think about when I get in the pool. February - month of long sets that reach into the depths of my neck muscles - is generally best for long deep thinking, so I look forward to what those repeat 500's will bring up in my psyche. Lots of folks claim to cry during massage or yoga. Not me. I cry while swimming. It's a fact, not a choice I've made, but were it a choice it would be a smart one, if I do say so myself. I'm already wet and underwater. If I cry, who will see my tears?
Over the years I've screamed underwater, and sobbed (as much sobbing as one can do while also trying to keep one's breath regulated during high heart rate sets), over callous remarks made by friends, perceived mistreatment by co-workers, frustration with business, colicky children, and pure lack of sleep. My friendships are deep and infinitely important to me, and so I feel any bumps along the road like personal injuries. My company is my third baby in many ways, and so I feel frustrations there like injuries to my children. And hell, everyone needs sleep. As "tough" as these things feel when I am going through them, I am lucky beyond measure that these are the things I have to cry about. And I am blessed that I found swimming as a way to process them.
Today I thought about this coming Sunday. On Sunday a few of us are planning to visit Heidi. Heidi, who was always present at 5:45am workouts, and who always told me how much she loved reading this blog. Heidi, who swam and swam and swam and traveled and enjoyed life on an uber active scale. Heidi, who suffered a massive stroke and is now unable to speak or swallow much less swim. I look forward to being there for her, to being present with my teammates and allowing her to listen to us talk about the pool and people that surround it. But I know that I will have some tears to cry for Heidi during my swim on Monday morning. I am preparing for them already.
*warmup:
500 free, 100 kick, 100 stroke
*main set:
500, 100
400, 100, 75
300, 100, 75, 50
200, 100, 75, 50, 25
*end set:
8 x 75s
fast easy fast, easy fast easy, all easy repeat.
Over the years I've screamed underwater, and sobbed (as much sobbing as one can do while also trying to keep one's breath regulated during high heart rate sets), over callous remarks made by friends, perceived mistreatment by co-workers, frustration with business, colicky children, and pure lack of sleep. My friendships are deep and infinitely important to me, and so I feel any bumps along the road like personal injuries. My company is my third baby in many ways, and so I feel frustrations there like injuries to my children. And hell, everyone needs sleep. As "tough" as these things feel when I am going through them, I am lucky beyond measure that these are the things I have to cry about. And I am blessed that I found swimming as a way to process them.
Today I thought about this coming Sunday. On Sunday a few of us are planning to visit Heidi. Heidi, who was always present at 5:45am workouts, and who always told me how much she loved reading this blog. Heidi, who swam and swam and swam and traveled and enjoyed life on an uber active scale. Heidi, who suffered a massive stroke and is now unable to speak or swallow much less swim. I look forward to being there for her, to being present with my teammates and allowing her to listen to us talk about the pool and people that surround it. But I know that I will have some tears to cry for Heidi during my swim on Monday morning. I am preparing for them already.
*warmup:
500 free, 100 kick, 100 stroke
*main set:
500, 100
400, 100, 75
300, 100, 75, 50
200, 100, 75, 50, 25
*end set:
8 x 75s
fast easy fast, easy fast easy, all easy repeat.
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