What. in hell. am I thinking?
I went to the gym and swam this morning. I lasted exactly 15 minutes.
One 400 meter swim.
I am tired.
I am sore … can’t lift my arms over my head.
Can I tell you how hard it was to put my sports bra on? I finally got it on on the third attempt. If it didn’t work that time, I was ready to say, “Screw it.” and walk out braless.
16 laps in a “real” pool is nothing like 60 laps in a backyard pool. For one thing, in a back yard pool, you basically push off, swim three strokes (four if you’re lucky) and you’re at the other end of the pool. Not so in a “real” pool.
And that’s what I needed …
A reality check.
Can I do this? Heck yeah! Shoot, the swim in the Kemah tri is 500 meters. I was only 100 meters, or 4 laps, shy this morning. Shoot! Why am I whining if I can do a 400 now? Because I’m not where I want to be. I’m not 17 and swimming 300+ laps every morning. I’m not there.
I can’t wait until I get to the point where I’m swimming continuously so I can think while I swim! I wasn’t in that place this morning.
Most of my 15 minutes was spent worrying what my legs were doing … because I couldn’t tell if I was kicking or dragging my legs … and trying not to gulp down too much water each time I turned my head to breathe.
The happy place will come.