Right now, I like training more than I like racing.
Don’t get me wrong – I enjoy event days too – the atmosphere of anticipation, the cameraderie, the snacks, the fashion parade of wetsuits, the men in wee speedos…its all good.
BUT – the reason I swim is not to race. It’s to access the feeling I get while swimming and after swimming.
What I want to discover is how far/long I can swim in this sagging 43 year old meat sack. What I want to do is swim in amazing places all over the world.
I think I would be happier if open water events were positioned more as experiences rather than races. Of course, I am concerned with my time and my performance at any given event. But the reason I swim is to tamp down my sharp and uncomfortable edges. Competitiveness has a way of creeping into my head and my body and gives me the exactly opposite feels that a challenging but relaxed training session or light lake swim gives me. I stopped swimming with a local masters group because I was overcome with the negative mindset the practices triggered in my head and body, especially during a time of misdiagnosed illness. This would express itself in swimming too hard and then crying in the shower if my body wasn’t up to what I was asking of it. And of course it wasn’t up to it – it was liable to fall asleep at any given moment. It would remind me of how I felt when I quit competitive swimming as a teenager, when repetitive, negative thought patterns became a big problem for me.
Swimming on my own terms is my solution for the brain that I was born with. And solo training takes me into the positive space I need, and allows me to channel those characteristics into my work (which I LOVE), rather than my workouts. Read More