I have to admit, there was a piece of me that was happy I’d done something I’d never done before—swimming till my heart felt like it would burst. It made me feel good to know I’d done it, but I was still dreading more.
So begrudgingly I forced myself back into the pool—for the workout and the commitment, not because I wanted to. A friend on Facebook told me that if I could get in the pool one or two more times before the race I’d see a huge difference. I didn’t believe him a lick.
I shoved my earplugs in, swam and swam, and looked at the clock. Better time. I did it in 21-minutes and it felt awful but not excruciating like the last time. I only had a couple of moments where I felt like I would drown in four feet of water. And I didn’t have to stop and do the backstroke for a lap. (Note: by the way…the back stroke isn’t easy or relaxing. Laying on your back and doing the reverse of the breast stroke is relaxing, but not the actual back stroke. That’s hard. I was doing a reverse breast stroke.) I did do some side strokes, but I had done that last time. I can’t seem to do one style of swim for over 20-minutes and maintain any kind of pace. It still wasn’t fun, but I was amazed at how quickly I saw progress and that gave me hope. The hope made me happy and shed some light back on this triathlon debacle I’d gotten myself into. Though, I still wouldn’t say I like swimming.