Inspired both by the US Olympic swimming trials and by my own desire to wring every drop of value from my new gym membership (I finally joined Jenny’s gym), I’ve started getting into swimming. Not the splash-around-with-the-kids kind, but the dive-in-and-haul-ass kind. Here’s what I’ve learned so far:
- Fitness can be much more activity-specific than I realized. Swimming is a great way to learn that lesson really quickly. I’m in decent shape for running and cycling, but I was sucking wind after ONE LAP in the pool. Oy vey.
- Those Olympic swimmers are fast. Really, really fast. They make it look easy on TV, but when an average Joe like me tries to swim the same event, the differences become painfully obvious. I timed myself on a lap in the breaststroke, and the Olympians are literally going twice as fast.
- Indoor lap pools feel cold when you first get in, but after a lap, they feel fine because your out-of-shape body is already heating up.
- Swimsuits suck. Yes, I’ve already blogged about that, but it’s worth mentioning again this season. It is nice that my gym has water extractor machines that can spin most of the water out, but you still have a damp swimsuit to deal with once you’re done.
- The tight-fitting swim briefs generally (and inaccurately) known as Speedos make much more sense for fitness swimming than the baggy suits that American men are expected to wear. Why drag a parachute through the water when you’re trying to win a race? Yes, I do plan to get a Speedo. No, you won’t have to see me in it. I’ll save it for lap swimming at the gym. (You’re welcome.)
- If you want the lap pool (and the rest of the gym) to yourself, show up at 3:00am. This morning I saw two people in the entire cavernous building that didn’t work there.
- On a related note, 3:00am is also a great time to practice swim skills that are woefully subpar, such as my butterfly. When Michael Phelps does the butterfly, he looks like a locomotive plowing down a track. When I attempt it, no one knows what I look like since I have the pool to myself, but I feel like a three-legged cow that fell into a river. That stroke is pretty much impossible for me. Granted, I never learned the proper way to do it and could certainly improve, but my body just does not want to move in that way.
- My mom was adamant about swim lessons, and I’m glad she was. During the swim lessons of my youth, I learned four strokes: freestyle, breaststroke, backstroke, and sidestroke. The instructors might have mentioned the butterfly, but they didn’t actually teach it, probably because a four-year-old doesn’t have the necessary strength. My favorite stroke is the sidestroke. Unfortunately, the swimming gurus of the world don’t consider it worthy for competition. It’s mainly used by beginning swimmers, lifeguards, and endurance swimmers.
- My swim breathing needs a lot of work. That’s the main reason I prefer the sidestroke: it keeps my face above water. I usually breaststroke with my head above water as well, but I know that’s inefficient. I usually end up choking when I freestyle with my head in the water or when I backstroke. And I just drown if I attempt to butterfly. If I ever wanted to get serious about swimming, some swim lessons would be in order.
- The typical lap pool length seems to be around 25 meters. The pools you see in Olympic competition are 50 meters. So an elite swimmer could go from one end of my gym’s pool to the other in about 15 seconds.