Tag Archives: athletics

Reflections

Proud.

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This year of coaching has been the best so far. I have enjoyed my other years but this year I have felt complete and ready for anything. Except today is our first day of our last invitational this season, and once again I have butterflies in my stomach. I’m guess I am still always going to be nervous/excited for them. But also I guess it’s about me…because if they do well than I did my job right, but they don’t then what did I do wrong. But I think I will not feel that way today, because I believe in them. 

My go to thing to say is, “I am so proud of my swimmers!” I understand that this is bland to many people. But I have trouble expressing my feelings to others. In my mind this statement does not express my pride in them, but maybe if I say it enough I will someday feel complete. No matter how they do today…

I am truly one proud coach, and I have been blessed with my swimmers this year. I could not have asked for a better group of kids.

Wish us luck!
The photo is of part of the team, they are not all there but the photo expresses the future.

Daily Prompts, Reflections

Fight.

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Fight…can be brutal, casual, abusive, exciting, debates, physical, empowering, mental, determination, childish, or just a fight.

I have heard many and experienced all of these types; I am sure I forgot some or I have not yet had the pleasure of experiencing them…

A fight can be in many different ways. It does not just mean a physical altercation with another physical body. I have experienced the brutal fight, but this one I was the controller behind the brutality. I know this makes it sound like I did something stupid but to me it was when I would race. In a 50 Freestyle it is a fight to win. In other races you can set your own goal and race your own race, but in a 50…you have to fight back against the other swimmers and hit the wall before them. So, if you want to be the winner you have to do many things, all at once perfectly, without screw up. It is the hardest race for most athletes and only the best get to race it in the big leagues.

So to me the brutal part in the fight to the wall was lack of oxygen. You must hold your breath, while sprinting, while fighting, while losing consciousness, until you hit the wall. And the controller or boss of your lack of oxygen is yourself. You have to want “it” more than air. You have to want to see black spots in your vision and win before you can have that healthy breath of oxygen.

I remember my coach always telling me to stop breathing. I thought that was kind of funny, because that’s something you say when you are extremely mad and you want the person to drop dead. But as a swimmer you hear this all the time. It is a natural thing to hear. My response every time was, “I know, I know…” I am sure my coaches were annoyed at me at some points of my career, but I am also sure they were excited when I swam. Because swimming was my fight. It was what drove me to wake up every day. It made me want to be an athlete. It has made me fight for want I want in life.

But it has also made me a passionate coach. This year I get to coach the varsity team; everything is faster, quicker and more intense. Not as intense as when I swam but way higher than JV. But, I can get a little too invested in my athletes lives. Some of them are swimming to stay in shape for polo season. Some are staying in shape for the summer. Some girls just want a good tan for that beach day. Some swimmers like swimming as a fun sport, but don’t have the drive. But I do have a handful that personally told me they want to be the best they can be, and they will work hard to be the best.

So, to tie in the breath control thing…we had a swim meet yesterday and I put all of them in the 200 Freestyle Relay so they could all do a 50. But also, relays have so much more pressure to them; they were one of my favorite parts of the sport. Because if you messed up your own individual race it was just “your” bad. But if you messed up on a relay or went to slow you lost if for yourself and three of your other teammates.

But on Wednesday, before the meet, we worked on breath control, I gave them an easy set, however the catch was that they could only take two breaths. Some of them they looked at me like I was crazy or it was an impossible task. You should only be taking 1-3 breaths in a 50. I always took 1 so 3 is giving them a buffer. I would say on average that 15 of my 22 athletes take on average 8 breaths in their 50…sometimes more like 11. So to some of them it seemed impossible. But I wanted to challenge that handful of people who like swimming but have never been challenged…they thought I was crazy, but they still attempted it…

They found that when you don’t breathe you push yourself harder to make it to that wall before you take that extra breath you don’t really need. If you put your head down and let your limbs pull your body to the finish the race will be over before you know it. As of right now, for them, it is only a 23-25 sec race. You only have this much time or less to be perfect. So if you take one factor out, breathing, then there is less to worry about. One less thing to have in your mind as you race and fight for the finish makes it that much easier to succeed. The fight is a fight to the finish…

Fight

Daily Prompts, Reflections

Begin.

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Every time I feel this feeling it jolts me back into the past…

I am again behind those blocks preparing myself for battle. My muscles sore but warm from the beginning. My mind goal-driven and not ready to back down from this fight. Swinging my limbs to keep them energized and lose, but every so often slapping them to make sure I can feel pain. This tells me I’m ready. The short whistles are called and I step towards the block. We are kind of like sheep being lead to either our death or success; only you are the deciding factor of this choice. They announce my race and my blood begins to boil, it is almost time. The long whistle blows and I mount that block. The firm cold platform is my rock; it is what sets me up to be my best before I begin. The block is like the beginning of my foundation…it makes it possible to see my goal at the other side. The official says, “Quiet for the start…” it is about to begin…, “Take your mark…” I bend my body towards the pool preparing myself for the next 24 seconds of my life. This is what I live for… “BEEP!” and I am off towards my deepest dream, to flow through the water; soar through it as if it is air. So much so that I seem to be flying through without any hardship. The flow of the water matches my energized blood; we need to be challenged to be great.

Adrenaline is my current; it is what jolts me back into the past. But now with coaching I have a new adrenaline flowing through my veins. I can only teach and encourage them to be better, and now I must watch from the sidelines trying to contain my competitiveness. It comes to me like butterflies in my stomach…but my body yearns to be in their place. Instead, I must now challenge myself to make the deck my firm foundation; the screams from my athletes the commands of my heart; and that moment when the official says take you mark…is to pack down the flowing energy inside my flesh.  There is no way around this, but to teach and encourage my swimmers to be the best they can be…and just know I am a competitive person and always will be.

Flow

The picture is from themomfred.com but I am actually one of the swimmers.

Daily Prompts

The Game…

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Pain and loathing spread across their faces. The sweat, mud, and tears mix together hiding their expressions. Their muscles are worn and tired. Their arms too sore to reach up and wipe away the sweat from their brow. Their fingers pulsing to the sound of their running steps. Their bodies ridged with suffering, but maintaining to carry their body weights through the field.

But they never surrender, and they never will give up. They push through their misery with great gusto because they love the game. The game drives them, pushes them, finds their inner beast. Rain, sun, or snow we continue this game.

Normally, I play alongside them. The adrenaline scorches my blood and sends currents of electricity through to my muscles. The chase is the best part of the game. Everything seems to blur into each other, and you fly through the chaos to success. Everything moving a mile a minute. Never slowing, always a steady fast pace, but only your breathing quickens.

I stand here immovable, watching them play. My eyes can’t leave the field. My body yearns to join them, and every muscle is tightening ready to burst into action if need be. But now as the coach, I must let them discover the love of this game. My body is stone cold and stiff. No sweat drips down into my eye line. No tears pour from my eyes in fury and excitement. No mud mixes onto my flesh turning me muddy. I am perfectly clean, and I feel incomplete.

But watching this game from the edge of field, causes it to slow. I can see the stopping and falling. I see their bodies actually move at a normal pace. Every athlete is wincing in pain, but I witness that smile creeping through the layers of mud across their faces. I see the high power leaps into the air towards success. I see the collisions in slow motion, and then the bodies slowly cascade dowards collapsing into the mud. I see the small gestures to their teammates as they have done well, or are losing.

No one really ever losses at this game. You only lose if you give up. You only lose if you quit. You only lose if you don’t try. You only lose if you believe you did not give it your all. If you do everything you physically and mentally could then you have won. That is why I play this game. You must work as a team to score. You must put in the work to succeed. You alone must decide if you want to play the game or not. This game is challenging but still through all the pain, hurt, tears, sweat, mud, and effort you might catch a glimpse of a smile or smirk if your mind slows down their movements.

Even though my body is aching for more than to just stand here on the sidelines, I need to give them the chance to love the game. I also get the chance to slow down my mind and see the dissimilarities between the athletes who want it and who don’t. Also, I have another source of knowledge to help them understand our true sport. This game is our outlet to team bonding and self-finding, but our true passion happens elsewhere.

But without this game, we would not know what it feels like to have sweat, tears, mud, dripping into our eyes. The water masks our expressions and exhaustion. I only truly see it in their faces during this game. When we swim there is no slowing…this only happens in the game.

Pace Oddity