23 June 2010

Clarity.

It's been a while. I'd love to say my silence has been because I'm off traversing the world or something, but that is simply not the case. I've been in a bad spot in life for a little while. One of those ruts that are seemingly impossible to get out of. I wasn't happy with where I was in life. I let some of the most minute things keep me down. I had breakdowns about my dad I've been suppressing for well over a year. I lost my appetite. I had no drive to train. I was frustrated with my ankle not being 100% after so long. I work all the time, and hardly ever see my friends I used to train with daily. I felt alone and like I had no one to talk to. It was depression in one of it's darkest forms.

I realized what was going on about two weeks ago. I was swimming at Jason's.... I'm usually in the lead pack that swims from beach to beach to get about two miles in. I felt like I was fumbling in the water as they swam swiftly away. It didn't make sense. I got out of the water feeling defeated, just like I had at a few prior swim practices at Providence.

Swimming to me is what Yoga or meditation is to others. It's a time where I clear my head. My breathing is focused. I'm concentrating on pulling myself through the water. Staring at the line below reviewing what's good in my life.

I got off work early last night, and, still in the glow of feeling good about my life for the week or so, I decided to go swim with the team. Hopping in the water, a little bit of anxiety washed over me. As I started into sets of 50, I realized how incredibly tight I was holding my shoulders. With one big exhale, I loosened my shoulders. I slipped through the water. I watched the lane lines zoom by as I grabbed the water... something I hadn't felt in well over a month. I got out of the water feeling elated. I stopped to watch the storm roll in from a DC rooftop before heading home for the night. I love storms, and this was no exception. The last glimmer of the sunset illuminated the storm shelf as it rolled in. Golden lightening rumbled in the seemingly harmless, fluffy clouds. A mix of heat lightening and a storm off in the distance. I went to bed with a smile on my face.

I woke up early this morning.. and wanted to see if I could replicate. I drove down to GMU's pool for some 50 meter love. I wish Hains Point outdoor 50m pool was open, and contemplated jumping the fence... but figured that wouldn't pan out so well - breaking and entering in DC? "But officer... I just needed to swim in a 50 meter pool...." The swim felt amazing. The sound of air pockets dancing around my cap as I pulled myself through the water was deafening, like it once was. It was a moment of clarity. My times were back on par, instead of the 1:40's I found myself swimming (or modified splashing) the last few weeks. I climbed out of the water with an intense burning in my lats that I haven't felt since I swam across Lake Anna (though, thats probably attributed to the fact I was hungover...). I came home and made a simple breakfast, but it tasted amazing. It's the first time something has tasted good for a while.

I'm back.... and I don't intend to let anything drag me to where I was. Bring on Florida... even if it is covered in tar. :)

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hell yeah.

Remember, it's always darkest before the dawn. And i'm pretty sure it's dawn for you now!

Bobbie said...

Glad to hear your back on the up and up! Florida is just around the corner and let's face it... you've been waiting like 3 years to tear up the Ironman race and you really don't have any bones left to break! I'd say you're gonna have a pretty damn good race!