For the past three weeks, I have been forced out of the pool, by a viral chest infection and subsequent exacerbation of my asthma.
My asthma, has slowly improved as my lungs have recovered from the infection, that had taken up residence there, but my airways remain a little grumpy and irritable, like they haven’t quite, fully forgiven the bugs that invaded them, uninvited.
On Thursday, I was considering heading back to the pool, but I woke up at 6am on Friday, coughing, they then threw a bit of a tantrum, in the evening, when visited a friend, whose neighbour has a “wood burner”. In reality, it’s a “whatever crap you’ve got burner”, I don’t know what he was burning last night, but it certainly didn’t smell like burning wood and my lungs didn’t seem to think it was either.
Sitting at my neighbours dining room table, puffing away on my nebuliser, I sent a text to my coach, that I wouldn’t be attending training tomorrow morning. He replied that he understood, but encouraged me, that if I felt up to it, to attend training anyway and he would set up a “re-habilitation and recovery training set for me”.
I awoke this morning, at 6am, the first thing I noted was that I was experiencing a significant amount of pain, resulting from the arthritis in my spine. Neither paracetamol nor codeine fully alleviated the pain. My lungs were also grumpy. I had two, perfectly valid excuses not to swim.
That however, was precisely what they were, excuses. It’s too easy to resort to excuses, when you like the idea of doing something, but in reality, don’t really want to do it. Most things, can be overcome, with a little determination and adaptability. My spinal pain could be managed, even if couldn’t be eradicated and I knew from my peak flow, that though my lungs were grumpy, my reading was reasonable and at a safe level, to swim. I would just need a larger dose of Ventolin, before getting in the pool, as to support them. I knew they weren’t well enough, to cope with an all out, hard training session, but that wasn’t the aim of todays swim.
So, I headed over to the pool, I was greeted by my coach, who informed me that I was going to be doing a straight set. Twenty, individual lengths. That was it. I felt like I was playing a huge game of snakes and ladders. Over the six weeks, leading up to the infection, I had made great progress, rolled lots of “sixes” and climbed a few ladders, but had now slid down a massive snake and landed very low down the board!
I climbed in the pool, spoke to my lane buddy, and put my goggles on, ready to set off only to be met with a resounding, ping followed by my goggles falling off my face. Confused, at first, as to what had happened I inspected them and realised that, despite only being a few months old, they had broke. Like most swimmers, I suspect, I don’t carry a tube of superglue in my kit bag, so like a scene, from the Australian drama, Barracuda, I fashioned an emergency repair and got on with it.
The swim proved hard, I’ve lost strength from my arms and overall fitness, in addition, my lungs are still, not fully recovered. Consequently, it was an exhausting effort, even swimming two lengths, with a 10 second gap, in between each length. It’s incredibly frustrating and I know I have to commit to a lot of hard work, in the coming weeks, to get myself back to where I was.
There were a few times, when it was all I could do, to stand at the end of the lane, gasping for breath, resulting in the life-guard wandering over to enquire if I was alright. I tried to reassure him, that I was fine and that I knew what I was doing, I don’t think I was very successful though.
After 20 lengths, I’d had enough, I was tired and I felt sick. I wanted to get out. However, there was 10 minutes of the session to go, not wanting to give up, even at this early stage, I decided to try and do a couple more lengths. I am nothing, if not determined! I reflected back, to the two swims I had, had directly prior to becoming unwell and recalled, how on both, I was able to do more than I had thought possible (I will blog about this soon!). I wanted to do the same, again.
I managed another couple of lengths, my coach enquired how I was feeling. I explained that I had completed my 20, but wanted to try for a couple more. “Ok” he replied “no more than 30”. Thirty, quickly became a figure in my head, to aim for.
Twenty soon became twenty-two, then twenty-four, twenty-six and then twenty-eight. Two to go, my chest was tight, my arms ached, I found it hard to believe, that what for me, would of been an easy swim, three weeks ago, could be so tiring and challenging now. I was absolutely determined in my focus, I would reach thirty. Head down, looking at the bottom of the pool, streamlined position, kicking from the hip, knees straight, with arms reaching forward, each arm pull, bringing me closer to my goal. Twenty-nine and then onto my final length. Half way, through the length, I started to struggle, but knowing that this is where I have been before, several times, I kept going and reached the end of the lane.
I was disappointed, yet happy with my swim, but I am back in the pool. It will take hard work, determination and focus, to get back to where I was, only a few short weeks ago. I feel really quite uncomfortable, swimming, but I know that is down to the loss of physical fitness, its a brick wall I have to get through. I can either give up, or keep going. Giving up, has never been an option for me. I will keep going, I have a training plan, from my coach, which if I stick to, should see me, hopefully return to my previous level of fitness, within a few weeks.
I need to, as Dory, in Finding Nemo, once said “just keep swimming, just keep swimming”….