Last night, Mark made me do a swim workout. He used to be in the swim varsity in college. When Radka and I mentioned that we were training for the tri, he said he’ll help us out on our swim training.

Well, I took a long break from my swim training. My last swim was in January. But given that the tri is now only a month away, I’ve had to pick it back up again. So I went for a swim on Saturday. I am in really bad swimming shape (and bad running shape at that, but that’s a different story). I had to stop and catch my breath every 25 yards - the length of the pool.

Anyway, yesterday afternoon, I ran into someone from work who’s doing the swimming leg of the tri for his team. He said he checked out the race last year and watched how people struggled through the swimming. It’s a 400 meter swim, and some people were still in the water after over 30 minutes, some having to stop and tread water while they try to catch their breath. I started to panic. That would be me, and I’d be rendered useless even for my stronger event - the bike leg, which comes after swimming.

So, I asked Mark to work with me and on my stroke that night. Nice guy that he is, he freed up his evening. He did as I asked, and then some. He showed me things I can do for exercise, what to focus on with my stroke, and how my workouts should be structured. 3x the length of the race is what I need to be doing every time I go for a swim, he said. Holy crap, I thought. 1/3 of it for warmup, 1/3 for workout (with sprinting!?!), 1/3 for cooldown. Prior to that, on my own, I barely did the length of the race at all. 20 minutes max was the time I spent in the pool, with 1/3 the time spent catching my breath in between laps.

But I was so tired last night and uncomfortable in the water that I just seemed to face a wall. I couldn’t do it, and I didn’t want to. When he’d ask me to go, I stalled. And I whined. Like a 10-year old spoiled brat. I think that surprised me more than anything. I’ve been proud of my suck-it-up attitude that to find myself acting so against that whole philosophy was painful.

At one point, Mark kept saying “go” when I didn’t want to that I was ready to throttle him from 20 yards away. But, the desire to throttle myself for whining was even bigger. “I can’t, I don’t want to”, I heard myself say. Mark told me, “Yes you can, dig deep”. I must’ve dug deep. Deep down my spoiled little self. “I can’t”. Ugh.

On Friday, when I go again, I’ll suck it up. I’ll go by myself, but I’ll make myself do what he tried to make me do. I’ll drown if I have to. But I won’t, because I can swim. I think it’s just that I’ve spent too many summers away from home.

It’s nice to have a coach though. Thank you, Mark.