Swimming a Mile

As I mentioned, this semester I took a swim class at the gym at school. This Thursday was the last time our class met, and we swam a mile for time. They had been warning us that this was coming for awhile, and helping us to build up our times.

Here is a picture of me with the instructors of swim class, Colby and Sarah Beth. This was taken after I swam the mile that I describe in this post.

PS Can you believe I am posting a picture of me in a swimsuit online? Because I can't.

In case you're not familiar, to swim a mile you should go 1650 yards. This is 33 laps, or "down and backs" -- 66 lengths of the pool. Now that I am in shape, endurance/stamina really is not my problem. I probably could swim 5 miles if I were really pressed to, in fact -- but I would be hard pressed to do it quickly. Thus, I was excited about the opportunity to do this race for time. It will be another way for me to document how I will improve at getting in shape over time (given that this is the first time I have ever swum this distance for time).

Sadly/fortunately, the ranks of our class really thinned out over the course of the semester. In fact, there were so few people on the last day that each of us got our own half a lane. I was on the outside half lane, so I didn't have a great view of everything that was going on.

Here's the rundown of the folks who were in the class: there were five swimmers. I will describe them in the order we were placed in the lanes. The cast of characters were:

• Moi.
• Hairy - Really nice guy who swam next to me. He swam in the faster half of the slow lane back when a bunch of people came. Named Hairy because he has been growing out his beard all semester. Doesn't he know that will slow him down by causing drag in?! (Joke)
• New Guy - He came only for the last part of class. He is quiet and faster than I am. Pretty buff guy, but I know nothing about his personality.
• The Situation - This guy is a complete moron just like that loser from the Jersey Shore. He is ripped, but I think his mouth/attitude/ego are even bigger than his muscles (which, admittedly are large). He talks a HUGE game about how fast he is but will often choke with muscle cramps and stop swimming. He has a huge crush on our instructor but will not admit it. I. CANNOT. STAND. THIS. GUY!!!
• Igor - This is the dude's real name. Not too sure what to say about him other than I think he is the kind of guy who is good at things, but tries to get away with doing the minimum. He is kind of whiny when they make us do hard things in class.

The swim instructors told us to arrive early and get warmed up. I made sure to get a 200 in before class so that I was ready to go. I also stretched, which I had been sloppy about doing all semester.

When they told us to go, Hairy and I swam at the same pace for the first several laps. My flip turns are good, so I was able to keep up with him and pass him slightly on each turn. He would then swim faster than me and catch up by the end of the lane. We were even for probably the first 200-300 yards (out of 1650). Although my view was limited, I could see that New Guy and the Situation took off really fast and passed us early on. I was trying to be aggressive with my time, yes, but I also wanted to make sure I could go the whole time at a decent pace. I thought for sure the Situation would go fast but then flame out and that I would pass him at some point.

As time progressed, I could see that New Guy had lapped me twice. I also began to pull away from Hairy. My goal was to lap him. As someone who has been lapped her ENTIRE swimming career, I did want to know what that felt like to be able to lap someone else. (In case you're curious it feels great.) In fact, I ended up lapping him four times. I think what happened is that he would stop at the end of the lane to catch his breath, and the little breaks got longer and longer each lap whereas I just powered through (again, I am built for endurance but not really for speed). I could not see what the Situation was doing and -- because Igor arrived 8 minutes after the rest of us had already been going -- I had no idea Igor was even in the picture.

Around lap 10 I lost count of how many laps I had done. However, I was able to see that the New Guy lapped me twice. Because I had lost track of the number of laps I had done (and as a result, how many I had left to go), I did not know when to really give it my final push. Ideally, I would have loved to pick up the pace with about 5 laps remaining. However, I had no idea when that actually was in my part of the race. Our instructors had told us they thought it would take us between 30 and 40 minutes to finish. I calculated that if I did 1:00 laps, it would take me 33 minutes so I did not start to wonder how close to the end I was until the clock turned to 33:00. After that, though, I kept an eye for New Guy to be stopped and resting at the end of the lane. I knew that when I saw it, that was my cue to really pick up the pace and make a strong dash for the finish since I would have only two laps remaining.

When I saw he had stopped, I began to push really hard toward the finish line. I gave it what I had. When I pulled up to the finish line, I heard that someone finished in 38:41 and someone finished in 38:44. I thought the Situation beat me by 3 seconds and I was SO ANGRY at myself. When I asked "Did he really just beat me by 3 seconds?", my instructor said, "No! You beat him!" Man, did that feel great!! My final time was 38:41. This equates to 50s that were done around a 1:10 pace. So nice to beat him, even though I tried not to be a sore winner.

I was pleased with my time (although I didn't really know what to expect), and was certainly happy that I had beaten the Situation. However, I was slightly annoyed at myself because I had some gas left in the tank and I wish I would have been able to turn up the effort a few laps earlier. Oh well, next time I will keep better track.

This semester in swim class, I had three main goals.

1. I wanted to improve my stroke. I think I can consider this a success. My freestyle is probably a bit better. They taught me to correctly do the backstroke, which I think is now much better than when I started. I can kind of do the fly, which is more than I can say at the beginning of the class. I still suck at (and despise) the breaststroke though. Overall, though, I say this goal was met.
2. I wanted to get faster. I do not have any data to confirm that this goal was met, but I do think it was. Plenty of room for improvement on this goal though.
3. I wanted to be able to get out of the pool on the blocks. Even in high school, I used to have to use the ladder to get out of the pool. I wanted to not have to rely on this anymore. I can now easily get out of the pool on the blocks. This feels great to have accomplished. GUN SHOW BABY!!

Overall I would give myself a B+ or A- for my effort in this class. All of my absences were "excused" (not that they took attendance, but I didn't go if I was legitimately sick, out of town for business, etc. and always went when I could). I could have improved my attitude toward the relays, but overall I really did give my best in 95% of all cases, trying to do what they asked even when I was too slow or unable to.

I hear they are offering this class again in the summer. I am excited to take it. I would love to be able to swim the mile in 35 minutes next time. Thanks Sarah Beth and Colby for a great class, and thank you Situation for allowing me to feel the thrill of victory!!! Better luck next time.

Back in the Game

My blog, as you can tell, has been hijacked (by me) for reasons other than weight loss. I am considering starting a blog about whatever -- my general musings in life -- but I am not sure. I'm still mulling it over. If I start one, I will let you know and stop interrupting this blog with other stuff.

Today's post is back to the normal topic: my struggles with (and victories against!) the war on fat, slovenliness, and being unhealthy. Let me start with a story.

Since my senior year of high school, I have liked swimming. In college, the gym was up a ginormous hill (seriously -- this hill was so steep and long they called it cardiac hill because several people died of heart attacks on this hill). Although I love to go swimming, the trip up this hill to the pool from my dorm prevented me from going as much as I would like.

Despite the distance, my freshman year (1997-1998), I managed to get a gift at the pool: I got some sort of fungal infection on my foot. That spread to my toenails and, for 10 years, I struggled with fungus toenails. If you have never seen them, don't go out of your way to do so. They are gross and yellow, and are so thick that I eventually had to use tools like pliers and as well as my engineering degree and creativity and knowhow (no exaggeration) to cut them. Finally, this year I was able to stay the entire course of treatment and now I am happy to report that the nails are growing out normally. THANK. GOODNESS!

I always told myself that if I was able to get rid of that fungus (I had tried a few times before), that I would go get a pedicure as soon as I was able. I am pleased to report today is the day I will go for a pedicure. I will probably cry tears of joy as I get it. The person dealing with my toes will think I am crazy, but that is ok too.

I was thinking about that this morning in the shower. Why did I let this incapacitate me for so long? Why didn't I take care of this early and stay the course earlier? I have always felt really awkward about my feet. I got nervous in the pool, and was always careful about using flip flops so I would not spread my fungus around. I went 11 years without wearing open toed shoes because I was self conscious about my feet. I hated to go to friends' houses where they take off their shoes if I was wearing closed toed sandals. This stupid thing made me self conscious and altered my life for almost 11 years. It doesn't anymore, and tonight I will have the pedicure to prove it.

As I was thinking about this this morning, I realized that this is just a microcosm of what my life used to be. I used to be afraid of and/or feel awkward about most everything I did because of my weight. Would I fit in the chairs? Would I spill something down the front of my shirt and look like a slob? (this used to happen ALL. THE. TIME. because it just wasn't far from my mouth to my "shelf" as I called it, and I was shoveling so much garbage into my mouth) Would people want to walk up stairs or something else that would make me puff like someone with emphysema? My weight and my unhealthiness seriously messed up my life and made me feel awkward and self conscious at every move. It is a terrible feeling not to feel comfortable in your own skin -- yet I have been this way most of my life.

I am pleased to let you know that this is no longer the case. Do I feel self confident 24-7? Um, no. Far from it actually. However, I know that at my core I am worth something and doing my best to do the right thing and be a good person. I don't question my fundamental worth anymore, which is something I used to second guess all the time. Most importantly, I don't feel awkward in my own skin anymore. I feel OK about myself.

Here is a quick story to illustrate how far I have come. This week, I was invited to a scholarship dinner at a sorority by some of my students. I was very honored to learn that not that many professors were there, and that the ones who were had been hand-selected by the sorority sisters because they had made a difference in their lives. It was hugely rewarding to be invited (but that is not the point of the story). You should also know that I have been incredibly curious about sororities for the past 8 years or so. Ever since I started teaching in grad school, I got interested in the sociological aspects of groups and everything...and, I loved that show Sorority Life that used to be on MTV. The lives I've seen depicted in stories like Legally Blonde (one of my favories) have left me intensely curious about living in a sorority (although, I don't think it could have ever been for me). Needless to say, I was pumped just to be able to go inside a sorority house and look around when I got this invitation.

In the past -- despite all of these reasons why I wanted to go to this dinner -- I am virtually certain I would have said no and politely declined the invitation. Why? I would have been scared of feeling uncomfortable in my own skin. I would have been scared to feel judged. When I picture a sorority girl, I picture someone who whines about being fat and the cellulite on her size 6 thighs. I see someone tan, petite, and cutely dressed. At almost 300 lbs and a size 26, this clearly was out of the realm of someone I could relate to (you try to find a cute size 26 dress that is flattering!). I would have felt certain that they were laughing at me on the inside. However, I now feel so much more confident in my body and, more fundamentally, myself that I went. I had a nice time and was glad to see what the inside of the sorority was like. My suspicions were confirmed: there is absolutely no way I could live with 85 girls (the year I tried to live with 10 almost killed me!). I didn't really think about my weight once (but I did wonder how those girls stay skinny with the food they were feeding!).

Although this is just one story, there have been many more like this this year. I am happy to report that my unhealthiness and weight is holding me back from less and less. I am doing more and more things, and am less fearful of them. There are still things I can't do that I'd like to that I can't yet. For example, I'd be hard-pressed to go shopping with a group of skinny people and be able to find anything at a normal store. I can't ride a mule to the bottom of the Grand Canyon yet (you must be 220 fully clothed and geared). I still can't skydive. But there are so many things I can do now, and I am doing. My weight is holding me back from less and less, and it feels great. This girl is back in the game. Bring it!

Swim Class Fixer Upper

Do you know how “they” say that you should buy the fixer-upper in a really nice neighborhood as opposed to buying a mansion in the slums (whoever this proverbial “they” is)? In swim class I totally feel like the fixer-upper, and it is really a great place to be.

I wrote before about my astonishment to be placed in the fast lane in swim class. Today I write about the flip side of the experience. Although I am in the fast lane, enough people have dropped out of swim class that I am now the slowest in the fast lane. Not just a little slower, either, but significantly slower. I am the one who is bringing the rest of the property values in the lane down -- making them go slower and wait for me to finish laps to start the next set, etc.

However, it's a great place to be. I am so competitive and so it is really good for me not to completely excel at something but not to give up either. Additionally, I feel pressure (internal, fortunately, not from the teachers or my lane-mates) not to let the rest of the lane down -- I want to finish strong and I certainly want to go faster. I really try to push it and bust my hump on the work we do. This will help me in the end, I am sure -- pushing me to test my limits and ultimately helping me to become a better swimmer.

This is so much better than being the stud in the slower lane. I would not need to push nearly as hard if I were leading the other lane. I am very grateful to have the chance to push myself to the limit in the fast lane.

Like I mentioned before things lately have been starting to click on the exercise/lose weight/get healthy front and I have another victory to report! I have never been able to get out on the blocks of the pool -- instead I would always have to swim over to the ladder and get out this way, aka the wimp way. It has been a goal of mine to be able to get out on the blocks so I can swim in whatever lane I want and not have to worry about getting a lane on the periphery of the pool. Well, I can finally get out on the blocks! I went in Saturday and practiced over and over. There were only three of us in the pool (usually I'd guess there are about 15-25ish people) plus the guards, so I felt way less self conscious practicing. I finally was able to pull up over the bulkhead once. It took several tries and I was unable to repeat the feat (although I did get a nice blister on my pinky to show for my 20 minutes of hard work). Yesterday after class, though, I was able to do it again. I am confident that by the end of the semester it will be a piece of cake. I love that I was able to find synergy between this goal to get out on the blocks and my quest for the gun show, as really a lot of it is upper body strength.

I love being able to meet goals. I feel so empowered. GUN SHOW HERE I COME!

Swim Class

One of the things that I love about the gym at school -- and this is certainly only one thing I love...I should do a post on why I love that facility so much sometime -- is that they have TONS of programs for students, staff, and faculty, and they are reasonably priced. I try to take advantage of many of the programs. This semester I am taking part in (at least) two: one called Commit to Fit, and a lap swim class that is offered which is the purpose of this post.

I swam in high school as I have written about before, but my career was not noteworthy. In fact, I really sucked. I enjoyed it, though, and was in the best shape I had ever been in in my life up until that point (I think I might be in better overall shape now). Since my time on the team, I have always loved swimming and wished I was much better at it. I figured this lap swim class is my opportunity. And for 10 weeks of instruction, 2/week for $35? Sign me up!! The ONLY bad news about this class is that it is during the only water aerobics classes I can take which makes me sad. However, it is probably a more comprehensive workout (although less ab work) so I think I will probably come out ahead -- I will just have to abuse my abs another way :) and I will return to WA this summer.

The first class, I was very nervous and not quite sure what to expect. There were about 15 people in our class, and they asked us to split into a fast and slow lanes. They said they would observe us swimming, and then move us around. I chose the slow lane (duh, did I really think I would be in the fast lane?!), but no one wanted to lead it so I volunteered. After I swam the lap, I felt pretty good -- not tired or anything, and it always feels great to be in the water. When everyone completed their laps, the teachers wanted me to move into the fast lane. I was thinking "OMG ARE YOU SERIOUS!?!?" but I tried to supress this on my face. They then had us start swimming laps. I kept passing all these people?! It was so bizzarre and it ended up that I was the third fastest person in the fast lane -- that is the third fastest person in the entire class! I was about to cry tears of joy on the inside. I mean, remember -- this is at a university, so these are mostly 20 year old students we're talking about not 30+ year old people! And I was the third fastest one!!! I think part of it is that the other students just aren't in shape yet -- but whatever the reason I will take it.

The class was good. They went over drills and I can tell they will help to improve my stroke. I hope that the practice, repetition, and improved technique will also help me to get faster. Maybe I will become a good swimmer after all. Apparently I am already not as bad as I think I am!