"It Looks like Crap!"

"Your stroke looks like crap." 

I hung to the wall, surprised, stunned.

"Compared to what it looked like two years ago, you look terrible."

Let me back this day up to the beginning and try to fill in some blanks.

Tuesday started with me loading the truck for school, lunch, a change of clothes, swimming stuff, and the several care packages my wife was sending to the kids. It was always that way when I went to Cleveland after work. I would be leaving from Moorhead and needed everything for the day and early night.

After classes and after my office hours, I was in no hurry to leave campus but stayed a while and watched some YouTube videos. The grand kids would not be home until 4:00. When I did leave, I made my way first to Lehrton Cemetery where my parents are buried. There I changed clothes since it was a place where no one alive was watching. Then I drove to Bear Pen Park in Cleveland.

At the park, I did some shuffling, not much, but I did 3:00, followed by a 2:00 walk, then a 1:30 shuffle, another 1:30 shuffle, and finally an 8:00 minute shuffle. A 2:00 walk separated each shuffle. The idea was to mimic with my heart rate and leg strain what I will do at the Senior Olympics. There I am signed up for the 200, 50, 100, and 500, in that order. Those shuffles replicate the time I will spend swimming those events. The walks represent the cool downs.

After my little bit of shuffling, I drove to my daughter's and waited for the kids to get home. The school bus stopped, and I got out of the truck and watched them walk up the drive. When they saw me, they cried out, "Poppy!" and came running. Of course that brought great joy to my heart.

When my daughter came home, she unleashed their new dog, Sadie upon me. She, a young boxer, went wild and swarmed over me like Smu did many years ago. For some reason, those two dogs decided instantly that I am a good guy and someone to make a fuss over. Finally, a little after 6:00, I left for the pool.

After parking, I saw Cagri, The Mad Swimming Scientist, making his way towards the natatorium. I called out to him and we chatted as we walked together into the building I had not been inside in two years. 

It was good to be home. Ricky was there, Mark was there, Tabatha was there, and so was Duke. The old gang was back together. I stood in fear on deck. After swimming in an 88 degree pool for months, the prospect of jumping into that water was not a pleasant one. Mark said it was 80. That probably sounds warm to non swimmers, but it is actually pretty cool. I jump in a yelled under water at the shock of cold.

I swam for 450 before everyone was stopped on the wall. I like to warm up much longer than that, but when in Rome. Cagri announced to main set: six 300s decline by 50 one to three. In other words, we go out fast, then swim faster, then go all out two time through for each 300. Rest twenty seconds, and swim the first two with paddles and a buoy, two paddles only, and two swim only. 

I finished and then swam an easy 100, stopping when I saw Ricky and Tabatha on the wall. They had another 300 to go so I swam it with them. When we finished and before we swam the next set, Cagri said to me, "Your stroke looks like crap." He asked questions about my injury, made some speculations about why the stroke has changed and then told us to swim 8 X 50 with fins @ 1:30 decline one to four. I concentrated on my stroke trying to regain what Petya used to call "Your beautiful stroke." It made me a bit sad to know it is not so pretty anymore. We did the sprints, and I cooled down with a mere 150. I was in a pensive mood not a swimming one.

On the ride home, I pondered what Cagri told me, appreciating his boldness and honesty. I want to get better and a swimmer needs someone to give him feedback from time to time. That is one thing a coach does. Swimming with others is good also. I was reminded of body position coming off the wall. Tabatha has a great streamline and a nice dolphin kick on the turns. Mine were never good and have grown worse since my injury. Listening to Charles Stanley preach on the radio, I remembered something Trevor told me at Plate City recently. He said the center knurling on the bar was not coming down in the center of my chest when I bench pressed. He even videoed it and sure enough, the bar shifted to the right as I lowered it to my chest. It was the right arm the Cagri complained about. It was the right shoulder that I injured and suffered with for the last two years. Something is amiss on the right side of my body.

Now I have some new work to do. I must work on range of motion and trying to correct my benching and swimming form. That you, Jesus, for making this known to me. I plan to go back to DSU Thursday. Next week, my warm pool should be back in operation. But I think I need to make the pilgrimage to DSU from time to time to get some fellowship and feedback.