Swimming is the primary reason people refrain from triathlons.
"Run? Sure, I can run. I have feet to run," people will say.
"Bicycling? Of course I can ride! I have legs for pedaling," people will also say.
"Swim? Do I look like I want to drown? Maybe if I had gills..." those same people will also say. (OK, no one actually said anything about gills, but it would come in real handy during a swim. On second thought, maybe not. I mean, yeah, it would make it easier to breathe but you would be breathing pee-infused water. That's gross. Unless you're in to things like that... there are websites for people like you.)
There are many methods to the art of swimming and the artists are varied and skilled. You have your Picassos (Olympic athletes), your Rembrandts (Ironmen), and your Monets (record holders). Then you have me. Compared to them I am a monkey with finger paints... a finger painting monkey wrapped in neoprene... who probably eats paste.
The morning swim has turned from downright scary to eerily spooky to surprising enjoyable. Instead of cringing at the thought of another practice session in the water, I joyfully look at my calendar to schedule the next one. Looks like Coach Scotty was correct with her "advice." Who knew practicing would make you better? I am happy to report that I have ungracefully, very slowly, but still successfully managed to swim my first mile to mile and a half!
With my first sprint triathlon coming in only a few days, we will see how the practice sessions have paid off. I am hoping to be out of the water in under 15 minutes, but A) I don't know how to swim in groups, B) I have not done any open water ocean swimming yet, and 3) my big bag of excuses might weigh me down a bit.
I know 15 minutes to swim 1/3 mile may sound slow to the more experienced swimmers, but, while you're working through a postimpressionistic stage, I am still coloring by numbers. With time and practice, though, I too hope to become an artist. For now I will settle with painting outside the lines as I work on my own artistic creation. I call it Wetsuit Monkey with Gills Still Drowns.
"Run? Sure, I can run. I have feet to run," people will say.
"Bicycling? Of course I can ride! I have legs for pedaling," people will also say.
"Swim? Do I look like I want to drown? Maybe if I had gills..." those same people will also say. (OK, no one actually said anything about gills, but it would come in real handy during a swim. On second thought, maybe not. I mean, yeah, it would make it easier to breathe but you would be breathing pee-infused water. That's gross. Unless you're in to things like that... there are websites for people like you.)
There are many methods to the art of swimming and the artists are varied and skilled. You have your Picassos (Olympic athletes), your Rembrandts (Ironmen), and your Monets (record holders). Then you have me. Compared to them I am a monkey with finger paints... a finger painting monkey wrapped in neoprene... who probably eats paste.
The morning swim has turned from downright scary to eerily spooky to surprising enjoyable. Instead of cringing at the thought of another practice session in the water, I joyfully look at my calendar to schedule the next one. Looks like Coach Scotty was correct with her "advice." Who knew practicing would make you better? I am happy to report that I have ungracefully, very slowly, but still successfully managed to swim my first mile to mile and a half!
With my first sprint triathlon coming in only a few days, we will see how the practice sessions have paid off. I am hoping to be out of the water in under 15 minutes, but A) I don't know how to swim in groups, B) I have not done any open water ocean swimming yet, and 3) my big bag of excuses might weigh me down a bit.
I know 15 minutes to swim 1/3 mile may sound slow to the more experienced swimmers, but, while you're working through a postimpressionistic stage, I am still coloring by numbers. With time and practice, though, I too hope to become an artist. For now I will settle with painting outside the lines as I work on my own artistic creation. I call it Wetsuit Monkey with Gills Still Drowns.
