Back in the Pool

My last official swim meet was likely sometime in 2003, the year I graduated from high school. I didn't swim competitively in college and only did laps for fitness periodically. The story I always told myself is I want to keep swimming the rest of my life. Casual down-and-back or racing, it didn't matter.

Two years ago I started practicing with the US Masters team that trains at the pool where I coach. The swimmers were generally gung-ho about going to meets and competing, and asked me a few times if I wanted to join them. And I generally answered them, a la Seinfeld's "I choose not to run!" excuse for why he never agreed to re-race his former classmate Duncan.

I hope you enjoyed the Scandinavian subtitles as much as I did.

It's not that I didn't feel the swimmer's/racer's competitive itch any more -- I don't think that ever leaves you. But I just didn't feel a desire to race at that point.

But after continuing to coach high school and club swimmers, feeling and feeding off the energy at meets, and feeling myself improve at practice, I decided to give a meet a try again. For the first time in 12 years.

It didn't hurt that the open-invitation Colonies Zone Short Course Championships took place at George Mason University, about 15 minutes away from my house.

I registered, finally, with US Masters swimming and signed up for a pretty tame slate of events. No need to go out of control the first time out.

As for entry times, I made them up entirely, based on what I've either done or think could be done in my present condition in practice. Turns out I set the bar a little low.

Swimming between 5 and 20 seconds faster than my seed time was, admittedly, a little ego boost: It felt good to win decisively. Then again, I was typically the youngest in my heats by at least a few years. There was a 70-year-old a few lanes down in the 200 free.

No, I didn't only race senior citizens. But honestly I wasn't paying too much attention to either side. This was about going out and racing for me, myself and I -- seeing what was there, what happened when I pushed on the accelerator.

I had simple goals, starting with the 100 freestyle. I just wanted to go under a minute. The first time I was 12. Once in college I managed to push a :59. Since then, nowhere close. In the last few months in practice, I've pushed as fast as a 1:05. At this meet, I went 55.73, good for 10th out of 16 in my 30-34 age group. Goal achieved.

The rest of the events, by the numbers:

200 IM:                                   2:26.04
50 Breast (200 medley relay)    :35.64
200 Free:                                 2:05.63
100 IM (YES!)                        1:05.44
50 Free:                                     :25.1

Thanksgivukkah!

As my last post asserts, summer is in fact over. So over, in fact, that it is almost Thanksgiving. The outdoor pools are closed -- have been for some time -- winter sports are underway at area high schools and the Festival of Lights is upon us as well!

Yes, Hanukkah: the less-important-than-Passover yet still gift-laden Jewish holiday. The faith of menorah-lighters and dreidel-spinners follows a "lunasolar" calendar that schedules important dates based on the movements of both the sun and moon. So their holidays fall at different times each year, which is rather refreshing, if not vexing for social and professional calendars during the Christian holiday seasons.

But this year, the first since 1888 (according to the Washington Post), Hanukkah comes "early" (read: much before its holiday-in-crime Christmas) with its first day falling serendipitously on Thanksgiving. The coincidence has brought Hanukkah media attention the likes of which it hasn't seen in some time, by my judgement, paired with the coining of a Franken-holiday distinction: "Thanksgivukkah".

This would all be very clever... if it hadn't already been done before, to wonderful effect, on the hit Fox teen-novela "The OC." Here's a little taste.

Pure genius. Forget GOT, Dexter, Breaking Bad -- this was premium, addictive television before any of those so-called "award-winners". But I digress.

What does this have anything to do with a swimming blog? Just that the cosmic confluence of consumption-centric holidays means time spent away from the pool with spiking caloric intake. We cancel practices so kids can be with their families and stuff their faces. It is the American way. And for the right or wrong of it, competitive athletes like swimmers tend to be competitive when it comes to eating, especially around Thanksgiving.

Though if your body is used to burning hundreds, if not thousands of calories in a given workout, one day of total gluttony shouldn't be too much of an obstacle or setback. As a rambunctious little yardage machine, my high school self wouldn't think twice about serving up seconds, thirds, fourths of everything on Thanksgiving. No conscience, no regrets, no limits. Where did it all go? 

Wherever it went, it's not going as rapidly, if at all, these days. Having been on the losing end of numerous "food coma" Thanksgivings nearing the conclusion of my third decade, the discomfort just doesn't seem worth the thrill of actually chowing down. I've grown to value enjoying the time after the meal as much as the before and the during.

Does that mean I'm not trying to get in as much swimming, lifting and other cardio as possible in hopes of supercharging my metabolism to comfortably process more than it's used to on a daily basis? Hell no. As much as I love Thanksgiving leftovers, they're never as good as round one. I'm not planning to overeat, but just trying to free up a little more room in tank.

Now our soon-to-be-family (by mehwage) hosts are Jewish, so my sincere hope is we'll take every opportunity to meld the non- and secular holidays into the next-best super holiday known to man. We miss you, Seth Cohen.

Summer's Over

Already? And it's only August 6th? Too bad, it's over.

So, this.

It doesn't help that the typically oppressively hot and swamp-like summer climate of northern Virginia have recently given way to less humid, cooler, and (today) overcast and stormy conditions.

And last Saturday marked the official end of the Northern Virginia Swimming League summer season with the individual all-stars meet, held in Annandale, VA.

A little bit more about all-stars:

In order to be invited to the all-star meet, swimmers must compete the week before in their respective divisional championship meets. Based on those swims (each swimmer is allowed two events), only the swimmers with the top 18 times (plus two alternates) in each event -- from all 17 divisions -- are called up to swim at all-stars.

So regardless of how well you've done all season, or whether or not you even raced all season, it only matters how you perform at divisionals. No pressure, right?

My team had a decent divisional meet, and we ended up with a dozen swimmers making it to all-stars. Not a bad showing. And a number of those swimmers didn't even swim their best times, leaving room for improvement at the more competitive all-star meet.

As for the all-star meet itself: It was, like any culminating event, a mixed bag. The weather was an icky summery melange of cool rain, stuffy clouds and patchy sunshine. For a time it looked like there might be a complete rain-out -- the accelerated pattering of drops on the pool during the singing of the National Anthem reminded me of the sustained drumroll that sometimes accompanies the song in other settings.

Not many of my swimmers managed best times, unfortunately. It's difficult to pinpoint exactly why.

Possible coach-blaming explanations could be: insufficient aerobic training over the course of the season, insufficient sprint training the week leading up to the final meet, insufficient warming-up the day of the meet, or insufficient final pep talks immediately before the event.

But we're only talking about 50-100-meter swims. So again, it's hard to make a strong case for any of those; I felt confident about my physical and mental preparation.

Though could I have done a better job coaching them, in general? Probably. This was my first season being the head coach of anything, so I'll humbly admit there's plenty of room for improvement. But I think the outcome of all-stars, relative to the ups and downs of posted times over the course of the summer, also speaks to the unpredictability of summer league swimming.

I hadn't even seen several of my all-star swimmers the week of practice leading up to the meet, much less the rest of the season. They were practicing with their year-round club team. And that's completely understandable: Generally, their regular coaches are probably able to give them better workouts than the (pardon the pun) watered down, one size-fits-most sets I am basically forced to run.

But my influence over these swimmers' race-day outcome is limited to one day, out of a possible six. Not much time for me to feel terribly responsible for their times, fast or slow.

And then we're also talking about the mental fortitude of 7-15-year-old boys and girls. Not that they aren't mentally tough, but it's not difficult for any number of influences to distract their focus or competitive drive. Friends, crowded warm-ups, a little water leaking into their goggles, etc. And some kids just don't lock in for meets. Some kids would just rather be somewhere else, doing something else. Welcome to summer league.

But the meet came and went, just like the summer. Now I have no one to coach until September, when I'll be working as a regular coach with a large group of 13-18-year-olds in a competitive program at a year-round club. Exciting. Anticipation. What now?

Perhaps a few entries about swimming masters? Seems likely. LIS out.

B Meet Blues

(I don't really mean I have the blues. But the alliteration seemed handy for a title for this post.)

Forget improving times in off-strokes at this B-meet... DONUTS!

I'm the head coach of a community swim team that participates in NVSL (Northern Virginia Swim League) competitive "A" meets, every Saturday morning for six weeks during the summer. But less than half the total team -- only the top three athletes in each event -- compete on Saturdays.

The entire team (including regular "A" swimmers) gets to compete each Monday night in developmental -- or "B" -- meets. The meets aren't scored, though ribbons are awarded to swimmers based on the place they finish in their heat. Everyone loves tangible rewards!

And for years, as both a swimmer and a junior and then assistant coach, I've been ignorant of how much organizational work goes into preparing for and pulling off each of these events.

I'm beginning to get an idea: It's a lot.

Earlier today -- a non-swimming Sunday mind you -- I spent about two hours with our team's data manager preparing cards for tomorrow night's meet. Basically, each athlete will swim between one and three events at a "B" meet, and require a roughly four inch-by-four inch card with his or her name, event, and spaces for timers to record their handiwork -- for each event.

Swimmers should sign up for the events the would like to swim on Friday mornings at practice. But do we have 100% attendance each Friday? Not even close. At best, we end up with about a third of the team accounted for heading into meet entry mode.

Meaning, I need to choose strokes for each non-signed up swimmer. And I need to base this decision -- for about 140 children -- on age, observed skill level, observed interest, possibility of moving up into an "A" meet spot on the ladder, and eligibility due to performance at the previous week's "A" meet (There are a number of rules -- if you want clarification, comment at will).

So we try to make everyone happy. We try to give everyone as many opportunities as possible to drop time (inexperienced swimmers may drop 30 seconds or more in a given event, over the course of the summer, as their technical learning curve can be steep).

And then there's the rounding up and handing out of the aforementioned cards during the meet. This requires the Herculean efforts of multiple cat-herders (or multiple-cat herders? readers' choice). As coaches, how can we compete with the constant allure of the concessions stand and parents recklessly disregarding the "wait 30 minutes after eating before swimming" rule?

Summer: Colossal donuts, hot processed cheese nachos, Fun Dip... Not only does their presence taunt my typically growing appetite in the middle of a "B" meet, but their distant existence decimates any sense of a "Team Area" we may have initially established.

But what is there to do? It is, in fact, summer league. A lot of work... so the kids can have a lot of fun. Corny? You betcha. Now where's my donut?

Be your own coach

Pretty well-oiled

In many facets of life we can be our own worst critic. We independently will ourselves to do better, be better. This concept carries water in swimming as well.

Even though high school season is over, I've also been doing some coaching with a local club team that practices every day, all year. A number of the swimmers participate in other sports and activities, but for many, swimming is their primary extracurricular endeavor. And hopefully one they continue for years to come.

At a recent practice, I had the opportunity to shadow one of the older,  much more established coaches on the team. 

He's known as a firm, yet fair coach, who makes drills a major part of his swimming pedagogy. Observing his practice of 11-12-year-old boys and girls is like looking into a well-oiled machine. Once he starts them on a set (one with multiple intervals, distances, strokes and speeds), they simply run themselves. Their strokes look good.

The coach reminded me the group didn't start like this. They spent much more time in the beginning of the season learning drills from videos and becoming familiar with them in the water. Get the technique, then add the yardage. It's a basic, yet crucial code.

Watching his swimmers as they conducted their own practice, I could see each of them has something technical they can work on. Nobody's perfect. So I asked the coach how often he nitpicks with them. He responded with a pearl of his philosophy I wasn't expecting at this juncture. 

"If they leave this group having learned anything, my goal is for each of them to become their own coach."

Wait, so he wanted to make himself and any future coaches these kids have obsolete? Not exactly.

The only one who can make corrections to a stroke/speed/strategy in real time is the swimmer his or herself. This wise coach meant that he wants his swimmers to develop a sense of constant mental-physical awareness: what are they doing, why are they doing it and if something is going wrong, what is it and how can they correct it?

The higher these swimmers (or any swimmer) progress, their instruction will be more centered around the timing, type and distance of their workouts, strategically preparing them for the most important meets and the rest of their swimming career. The swimmers need to be able to monitor themselves and their bodies, as the increased yardage and intensity can cause serious injury when coupled with poor, or even just sub par technique.

Learning to self-coach is a life-long skill, and if we as coaches can successfully develop it in young swimmers, then we're doing some real good. Maybe not saving lives, but pretty good.

high school is over

And no one on my team knows this show. Tough.

Actually, high school is not over. Not by a long shot. And I couldn't be happier to be not in high school any longer. But the high school swim season is definitely over. We've seen the state championship meet come and go. We've even had the end-of-season banquet.

That's how you know it's over.

For the majority of swimmers on our team, the season was actually over back in January. That's when the regular season wrapped up and the series of district, regional and state championship meets began. From a roughly 50-person team, less than half swam at districts, less at regions and states.

I like to think all the swimmers enjoyed themselves during the season, and the generally impressive results of the championship meets reflect the good, well-coached time had by those particular swimmers down the stretch. We had a number of strong finishes at the state meet, including a champion and runner-up. Not too shabby.

Based on my experience and coaching competence, it was really a tale of two seasons: the regular season and the post season. During the regular season, I spent most of my coaching time working with swimmers who don't swim year-round for a club team. With them, I had more opportunities to work on fundamental stroke technique, basic race strategy, standard competition preparation. I've been where they've been.

But our more elite swimmers, the ones putting in many practices elsewhere and only showing up to the obligatory one high school practice per week, the ones competing at the state and even national age group level -- these young people who continued into the post season became our focus as coaches. I can't speak for our entire staff, but talent and achievements of these swimmers have already eclipsed my own. 

To be honest, it was a little intimidating. If this swimmer spends most of his or her training time with another, most likely more elite coach, then what is there to do in the comparatively brief time they're with us? Babysit? Just make sure they get to their events on time and remove all exterior jewelry?

Don't start imagining sad face balloons -- this isn't a pity party. I can coach, and I've done so with various age groups for collectively close to a decade. Just not at "elite" levels.

So rather than try to compensate by over-coaching these high-achieving swimmers to impose what competence I do have and being laughed off, I decided to simply ask these young people what they needed from me.

And, it appeared, they were more than happy to do so. I got asked for input on starting technique, breakouts, turns, pacing splits -- nothing outside my wheelhouse. And being asked a few more detailed questions than I'm used to motivated me to elevate my performance as a coach: I went to coaching blogs, instructional forums, Michael Phelps instructional videos. I trained. 

These kids were content to ask me for help, and I wanted to give them the best help I could, with all the resources available to me. And, it appeared, they were genuinely thankful. Regardless of who coaches who when and for how long, at the end of the day hearing someone truly appreciates your effort and help -- that you both understand the common goal is making them a better athlete and person -- then that's all that matters.  

Maybe this is all a bit too rosy a reminiscence, but it's the end of high school, and we all get a license to be a little emotional.

Face the Music

It was winter 1999. I was a freshman on my high school swim team and "Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me" had just come out the previous summer. I doubt many, if any, of my high school swimmers remember either the year or the film. Does that make me "old"? Don't answer that.

The movie is an otherwise forgettable sequel to the fabulous progenitor of the Austin Powers franchise, aside from a few things: Heather Graham, Mini Me, the phrase "Get in my belly!" and Lenny Kravitz' cover of The Guess Who's slow-burning rocker "American Woman". I bought the soundtrack on CD simply because of this song (does that sentence mean anything to you, boys and girls?). This was just something we did before there was iTunes, Napster, etc.

Lenny and his funky guitar stylings became part of my pre-meet ritual. I would blast Kravitz' cover though non-ear-covering or noise-canceling headphones from my shock-protected, bass-boosted Panasonic CD player on the bus, repeatedly, before each meet. Not social enough yet to feel comfortable talking with other swimmers and relaxing prior to the swim, I would press play, close my eyes and let the juicy bass line and guitar riff waltz me into my race mindset.

Here's where I went:

To be honest, I'd never watched this official music video for what became one of my favorite pump-up songs until about ten minutes ago. But there's a lot swimmers could learn from it as an instructional tool. Just fast-forward to 2:42, and there's Ms Graham demonstrating impeccable streamline technique. Highly commendable! She must've been a swimmer prior to her illustrious acting career...

I'm curious what music everyone's listening to these days to get psyched and amped up for swimming. Michael Phelps and Ryan Lochte claim to benefit from some manner of heavy-hitting rap "beatz" prior to their events. I'll admit to falling victim lately to the likes of Carly Rae Jepson and Taylor Swift urging me onward during masters practice. 

But don't blame me; blame the secret geniuses who've perfected the formula for ultimate pop performance. "Call Me Maybe" is exquisitely planned and executed, ear-burrowing, Top 40 gold. It just is.