Monday, May 31, 2010

And the waves they came a'crashing


So I'm training for a triathlon. Just a sprint--I'm a novice swimmer and biker--but a triathlon none-the-less. Three sports (although my husband would argue with the accuracy of using the word sport to describe running, biking, and swimming, but he's kind of a sports snob) performed back-to-back. The triathlon I chose is in Wisconsin, which strikes me as being rather ironic since I just wrote that I'm trying to embrace physical activity in Virginia. The event is a 500 yard swim followed by a 16 mile bike and a 3.1 mile run. The bike and the run I feel good about. 16 miles on a bike is not too difficult and I am coming off the heels of a half-marathon so the 3.1 run shouldn't be a problem. The swim is what worries me: it's open water (insert Jaws theme here).

I've only been swimming for about a year. I started when I was pregnant with Ben and found it to be great exercise. The huge belly I was sporting provided nice buoyancy. After taking some time off (about 8 months) to deal with an impossible infant, I picked it up again a couple of weeks ago. I am SUPER slow, but my endurance has improved drastically. I have been swimming much more than 500 yards in a pool, but my sports mentor Becky suggested getting some swim time in the bay, as "open water swimming is a little different than pool swimming". Wow. Is it ever.

Today marked my first attempt at open water swimming. I was extremely apprehensive about it--I'm not huge on swimming in places where I can't see the bottom do to my irrational fear of being bit by something. (Can you imagine swimming along, minding your own business and suddenly feeling something nibbling at your feet?) Anyway, I knew I had to get in there regardless of my fear so I took the plunge. Or rather tip-toed in--the bay is COLD at this time of the year! Finally, after standing waist-deep for 5 minutes with my goggles on and being stared at by the locals walking their dogs, I went under. The frigidity of the water took my breath away! Which doesn't help when you are swimming, so when I started I was already out of breath. Then there were the waves, which looked small from the sand but when trying to swim through them are actually much more of an obstacle than you'd think. Picture The Perfect Storm. My crawl stroke, which I've been so proud at having worked up to 40+ lengths at the pool, lasted for all of 1 minute before I switched to survival mode and began a timid breast stroke. After 10 minutes of this I turned around and attempted crawling again. It was easier with the waves at my back, but I still never got comfortable in the water and felt panicky and out of breath. 20 minutes of this and I stood up and walked up on the sand.

My husband, Kevin, was at the beach with the two boys (an aside: how wonderful is that? I would NEVER want to take the both of them to the beach by myself but he does it ALL the time AND brings the dog! What a father.). After recounting my difficulties to him, he offered the encouraging reminder that most triathlon swims are performed in open water and if I want to get serious about competing in them I had better get used to the waves. And then he tripped me and I fell face-first in the sand. Well, not really but his comment, albeit true, definitely left me feeling deflated.

So what lessons do I learn from this, one of my first attempts at embracing the bay? First, and this seems to be a recurring theme for me: I need to remember not to think too highly of my abilities. As 1 Corinthians 4:7 says, "For who makes you different from anyone else? What do you have that you did not receive? And if you did receive it, why do you boast as if you did not?" Although I do not express it to others, I often find myself feeling smug, even prideful, over whatever perceived athletic abilities I have. If there is one quality in others I detest, it is pride. Yet it is a sin I find myself guilty of far too often. It's happened in running and now with swimming. And it's completely unwarranted. I swim in a pool with an abnormally high geriatric population, and I am lapped by many of them! So obviously I am no Michael Phelps. I need to remember that all of my strengths and abilities come from God. HE is the source, not myself. I need to be grateful for the ability and opportunity I have to swim, not prideful.

Second, and maybe it's not a lesson, but I learned that I am capable of facing down my fears. I was and still am wary, if not fearful, of the bay, but I took the plunge and will likely do so again (because, let's face it. If I'm going to compete in that triathlon I pretty much HAVE to go back in there or I may drown the day of! Not a good inaugural start to triathloning.) It is important to be able to do this, especially in raising kids. Just today we were in our neighbor's pool (see how blessed we are? We have FREE ACCESS to these people's pool!) and I urged Jack, who was obviously fearful of the water, to jump in. He faced his fears and did. And had a great time. Knowing that I am able to face my own trials gives me the authority to urge my children to do the same.

And finally, even if I am not a fan right now of swimming in it, I hold out hope that the bay may grow on me. The water was cool and refreshing, even if it was murky. And I thoroughly enjoyed my post-swim run in the surf, even if they salt bothered my skin. Eventually I didn't even notice this fact. Hey, I am making progress...here's to hope!

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