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.

The Razor's Edge

Suddenly the high school team I coach and I find ourselves in the final week of practice for the regular season. Our last dual meet is this Friday, with the district, regional and state championship meets following over the next several weeks. But for a number of our swimmers, this is it.

And as such, our head coach is encouraging our male athletes to shave. Yes, to shave. Now, the word "shaving" in swimming actually has a double meaning, but both are in the context of preparing for a big meet. 

In one sense, shaving refers to reducing the number of yards per practice. This is generally done somewhat gradually, and in a specifically timed manner. Throughout the season, swimmers are pounded with yardage in an effort to both continually break down and strengthen muscles, as well as develop a hearty aerobic base. Between hefty practices, their bodies have little time to rest, so many experience soreness, fatigue, even malaise, etc.

But with an important meet nearing, coaches will shave, or "taper" practices shorter and shorter to give swimmers and their fatigued bodies an opportunity to rest and more fully recover. And in essence, because their bodies are in the routine of turning over such great amounts of energy and effort to keep up with the grueling practice regimen, suddenly when less work is required, swimmers experience an overabundance of energy that is then expected to be used to go faster than ever before in the important meet.

There's also a fair amount of excitement over having a two-hour practice instead of two-and-a-half; then one-and-a-half hours, then one. It's mental shaving as well, I suppose.

But there's also literal shaving. As in shaving cream, razors and boys. High school boys will typically get together and shave at least their legs, to complement the shaved practice yards. Sometimes boys will get carried away and do their arms, chests, heads, feet, backs, etc as well. Boys do get carried away at times.

On a basic level, one could make the argument that shaving one's appendages decreases drag (on some more than others) by removing excess hair from the skin. And it's true, the drag coefficient probably does decrease somewhat. But honestly, I think the number is nominal. It's not a big difference. What IS a big difference is the feeling: the tingling, the intangible-tangible sensation of shaved skin against the suddenly much cooler air and water, the tiny cuts made in the skin by the razor exciting surface-level nerves that have been disrupted for perhaps the first time ever.

I say tangible because you can feel the difference between hair and no hair. That's simple - it's there, then it's gone. But "intangible" because you can't quantify how much of a difference it will make in terms of time in the race. Having a shaved body, plus shaved yardage, could drop you half a second in one race. Or it could spark a spectacular meet, a series of sensational swims with huge chunks of time just melting off personal bests like meat off a perfectly slow-roasted pork rib. You don't know. And that's exciting.

So this week at practice will be something of a transition. District's isn't until next week, so we won't get into full-blown shaving or tapering, put sets will become more race- rather than yardage-oriented. And there will be more reminders to stock up on razors and shaving cream. Fun.

Hydration shmydration?

If you match the color numbered 8, you are a dried up corpse

Water. It's all around us while we're swimming. So we don't need to drink too much during practice or a meet, right? Wrong. Hydration is just as important in swimming as any other sport. And some of my high school swimmers (ahem, Lafonda) need to be reminded of this fact.

At last Friday's meet and again at today's practice, we saw a lot of lethargy, a lot of tired swimmers, a lot of cramps. Some of that is unavoidable. I understand high school kids don't get nearly enough sleep, or maintain optimal nutrition. And these symptoms are also signs of the body working to advance from not being in shape at all to being somewhat in shape. Cramps and fatigue are going to happen. 

Getting through fatigue and cramps is partially about toughness. Forcing blood to keep moving through your muscles despite a lack of oxygen isn't easy, but it's something you have to do as an athlete. You have to play through pain, play through exhaustion. If you stop and sit out with a cramp or because you're tired, you might as well not have shown up. Players keep swimming. Champions keep swimming.

But champions also hydrate - a lot. Hydrating is all about "early and often". And proper hydration can help athletes - even swimmers! - prevent and combat fatigue and cramping. Now, I'm no nutritionist, so here's an article by someone who knows what they're talking about that gives some good advice and explanation about hydrating for swimming.

A key takeaway from the article is this: the need to be mindful of how much water you're drinking on a daily, even hourly, basis. I asked a handful of my student-athletes at Friday's meet if they recalled how much water they drank that day at school. The majority didn't have a good answer. Which most likely means they weren't hydrating enough. Be accountable for your own (de)hydration and resultant performance. If your night's not going well, be able to answer the question Why?

And once you know the answer, be able to eliminate it. Most likely, it starts with drinking more water. Just do it.




 

Contest this!

We can all agree that everyone loves contests, yes? Yes, yes we can. 

So, in a shameless effort to drive more traffic to my humble corner of the vast ether, here is the first of many contests:

See that poll over there on the right-hand side of this here blog? I want you to vote in it. Like, get out the vote and rock the vote, simultaneously.

My high school team's team spaghetti dinner is every Thursday night after practice. And I have a flair for the dramatic, so this week, I will bow to the dominance of the poll winner and add the crowned alternative topping to my spaghetti. And eat it. And have a swimmer photograph the whole thing for this blog.

Don't you want to be as happy as this stud?

He's so avant-mouth-garde

If you vote, and your topping wins, you will be.

Oh, and you can follow me on Twitter @fakecoachtim.

Can you feel the water tonight?

The high school competition season officially got underway two Friday nights ago, with our boys and girls taking on an opponent squad from way across town. The girls won their meet (boys and girls are scored separately) handily and the boys lost by a slim margin. Lots of spirit, lots of fun and a few swimmers actually posted regional and state cut times - right out of the gate. There was quite a bit to be proud of and excited about.

Members of the team and coaches went out to a late dinner following the meet, as per tradition. In addition to sharing more of our swimming backgrounds (the head coach and I are each in our first season with the team), learning about the phenomenon of "snap chatting" and cheering for Stanford's football team to beat UCLA in their conference championship game, a couple of the swimmers brought up the concept of "feeling the water".

It's not something that's talked about very often, at least outside of swimming-intensive circles. But it's an aspect of swimming that can be very important. You see, having a "good feel for the water", typically corresponds with a swimmer being in the pool practicing at least once per day, at least six days per week, at least 40-50 weeks per year. It means tapping into your reptilian brain.

Regardless of your physical state and stamina, humans just weren't meant to move through the water. As far as mobility's concerned, humans are primarily built to run - chase prey, escape danger and scorned lovers - and walk - gather nuts and berries, raise money for breast cancer research, etc. We are bipeds, not quadri-paddlers.

But while our frames are what they are, the reason why Planet of the Apes is just a movie and dogs don't walk us is because the unique brains of homo sapiens are adaptable: we can train our brains to think differently, to manipulate our default programming. This is learning. This is skill. This is swimming. Humans weren't made to swim, but humans can become swimmers.

Becoming something completely different doesn't happen overnight. And it's not something that stays put after you've achieved it once. Yes, muscle memory will help you get back in and do a flip turn without thinking, after you've been out of the water for years, but not much else. You can lose your "feel" after only being out of the pool for a week. It's tenuous - liquid, one might say.

Having a feel for the water is an elevated status of in-pool consciousness; after hours and hours of practice, it's nearly an out-of-body feeling that your moving through the water is somehow better or easier than moving over land.

However, many swimmers will admit they're not terribly coordinated on land. Maybe that's because they spend more time focusing on their movements in the water than the alternative. Maybe swimming just attracts the naturally clumsy. Maybe it's chicken-and-the-egg.

So is this state of feel for the water the ultimate goal in swimming? Or just a milestone, a means to higher achievement, faster times? Or does it even truly exist? Maybe it's just an imaginary figment swimmers convince themselves is real of to rationalize the hallucinatory effects of hours upon hours of exposure to diluted hypochlorite acid.

I guess it doesn't matter. Back to practice tomorrow.