Triathlon - How Hard Could It Be?

I could already run.  Riding a bike is well, just like riding a bike.  All I had to do is learn how to swim.  How hard could it be?  "I’m going to do a full triathlon next year” I told my wife in a quasi-intoxicated condition at the Post Single Leg of a Triathlon Relay Party I threw for myself.  A brief  moment of silence was followed by: "Yah right, good luck with that." Such loving support. 

The former track and cross-country goddess and Iowa High School Track and Field Hall of Famer was prone to underestimate and under-appreciate my complete athletic awesomeness, probably due to my history of inebriated "goal setting" and rampant poo flinging.  She also knew I was nothing more than a “recreational jogger” not to mention the fact that I had never swam laps in a pool before, let alone rode a bike for any distance.  My one attempt at a single leg of RAGBRAI the year before left me unable to walk, cramped, chafed and waddling for at least a week.  But hey, I was a former collegiate athlete, (if you count D-III practice squad), how hard could it be?  

Ah yes, how hard could it be?  How does one learn how to swim laps that has never swam laps since tadpole swim lessons?  I asked everyone I came across, every stinking holiday party or get together, I would seek out those who I knew had done a triathlon in the past.  They had to be sick of me.  "What's the secret?"  "It can't be that hard right?" "Will you teach me to swim?" I would ask.  I would get some friendly suggestions and advice usually followed by:  “Dude, you are from Hawaii, how do you not know how to swim?”  

Oh I could "swim," if what was meant by "swim" was to stay afloat with ones head out of the water, breathing while moving slowing in one direction, body surfing with swim fins, or paddling with a board underneath me, but that whole face in the water, breath out the side of your mouth, try not to swallow 8 gallons of pool water, was a daunting challenge for me.  I grew up in the surf capital of the world, the North Shore of Oahu in Hawaii, and spent a good amount of time body boarding, but I had swim fins and a board under me which happened to be a convenient, buoyant, awesome, life-line that was always a leash-length away.  Oh and in case you are wondering, when you swim in the ocean in waves, the last thing you want to do is put your face in the water, breath out the side of your mouth and not look for the next neck-breaking wave about to crash on your head.  Just saying - totally different things.

Apparently, the sanctioning bodies for triathlons don't approve of participants paddling surfboards or using swim fins for the swim portion of the event.  I was too cheap and proud to pay for lessons or join a triathlon nerd club as suggested, so I set out to teach myself how to swim laps.  Where does one turn to learn something new in the 21st century? That's right, the internet!  Article after article, blog after blog, video after video.  I read and watched them all.  To this day, I'll never forget reading an article that said something to the effect of "if you didn't grow up a competitive swimmer, you can never become a good swimmer."  "Bullshit" I thought (and still think to this day, although I may ultimately prove that statement true, but only time will tell), I'm an athlete, how hard can it be?

My extensive internet research lead to my first triathlon purchase - the book Total Immersion.  After all, it claimed to be "the revolutionary way to swim better, faster and easier."  Obviously it was written just for me.  It had pictures and everything.  This was going to make the swim thing easy.  After all, I was a natural athlete how hard could this swimming stuff be?  Read, digested, highlighted and a few more bonus instructional YouTube videos later and I was hitting the pool ready to show the triathlon nerds how swimming was done.  “Hey how many laps make a mile?” I asked the lifeguard; “66 lengths" he chuckled "and good luck in those shorts.”  What? If you think I'm going to be caught in public wearing Speedo's you are out of your damn mind. Sorry I rock board shorts in the lap pool.

Ok, goggles securely fastened - check; vivid memory of Michael Phelps swimming like a Wahoo (its a super fast swimming fish in case you didn't know) on YouTube - check.  "Lets do this!"  I slipped into the water, pushed off gliding smoothly, silkily and effortlessly in the cool, crisp, highly chlorinated water I was born to rule.  "Piece of cake - prepare to be dominated triathlon nerds" I thought to myself.  First breath - "relax, be one with the agua, arm extended at a slightly downward angle, rotate the hips and shoulders as if there is a rod going down your back, head on a sweet pillow of water, breath out, breath in ---- gasp, cough, gag, hack, spit, choke, eyes watering, flail uncontrollably, panic - grab the side of the pool.  

Total Immersion my ass!  I was totally immersed alright - so immersed I almost drowned.  Ever get water up your nose where it stings so bad it makes you sneeze so hard it hurts even worse and sends snot everywhere?  No?  Just me huh. "Great I am meeting my doom in a watery grave at the Y pool because I'm certain that the 75 pound junior high girl playing on her iPhone won't be able to pull me out of here" I thought.  It would make perfect sense - survive Waimea Bay shore break every weekend in high school but die in a perfectly calm, flat, placid YMCA pool at the age of 30ish.  

Seriously, "this can't be that hard damn it?"  30 minutes of kick-boarding and regression to basic body buoyancy drills including floating on my back and well, that was about all, and the first "swim workout" was over.  It was clearly going to be a longer journey than my unfounded self-confidence lead me to believe but there was no way I was about to let the wife gloat at another failed over-ambitious goal.  Game on!  How hard can it really be?

PS: to avoid acting a fool like me, listen to what others tell you - join your local tri-club and/or take a lesson or two from a patient and understanding coach.  That is what they are there for regardless of your level of experience.  Trust me, it will save you much frustration, heartache and the public embarrassment of sneezing snot bubbles all over your local pool.