The New Lane of Joy

Ironwoman Canada stirred things up a bit at yesterday's Masters class.

First, instead of sequentially placing us in the pool from slowest to fastest, she re-orged the lanes. The Lane of Dread, normally the 3rd lane, was moved to the 5th lane, typically occupied by the second fastest swimmers (who seem to have a completely different workout than a bunch of us). I have no idea where those guys ended up - but it was kind of neat to not feel so obviously "ranked."

Second, she placed more TRIgirls in the Lane of Dread. I think out of the six or seven swimmers - 2/3 were TRIgirls. TRIgirls Fave and KO have joined me in the Lane of Dread before (and have kindly let me draft off them) - but I was so happy for TRIgirl SQ, who, I believe, completed her first entire Masters in the LoD, with much more grace and speed than my initial attempts.

Thanks to them, the Lane of Dread might need to be renamed - it might need to be called the new Lane of Joy.

We've got a few more TRIgirls who are on the verge of graduating. Soon the Lane of Dread Lane of Joy II, will be the "IT" place to be.

Believing

Yesterday was Masters swim class.

For several months now, I've been arriving to Masters class and Ironwoman Canada has pointed to the same lane. I've longingly looked over at the lane where I used to swim. Where I wasn't always the slowest. Where I'd sometimes find familiar and kind faces. Where there'd be people who would be less concerned about intervals and would want to chat and catch-up between sets.

For several months now, I've swam in the Lane of Dread. With swimmers who'd be so far ahead, they'd lap me on a 200. With several folks who'd strictly adhere to their assigned intervals and had no interest in waiting for the rest of the group (aka, me) to catch-up. With a few guys who can be pretty darn competitive - and have thankfully tolerated me - probably because I've immediately moved over anytime they have come close to my toes.

Every once in awhile, Ironwoman Canada would shift over the superfast people into the next lane, but I would almost always still be the slowest with the swimmers that remained.

So, yesterday, I plopped myself in this lane with my normal sigh of resignation. We started our drills. I was still falling behind, but the gap didn't seem quite as large.

Then we started the first of a bunch of sets of 100s and 200s. I wasn't being lapped. I was finishing close to or before the person in front of me started their next split.

With the next few sets, I decided to try to reach the person in front of me. I'd never been able to draft off these swimmers before. But, somehow, I was doing it - I was keeping up enough to draft.

I'd finish a set and wonder when I'd tire or when the other swimmers would kick into their normal speed. I found myself huffing and puffing, but still hanging on. Even when we went to the 300, the pull buoys or the modified IMs, I was within a respectable distance.

When we ended the class, the guy who I had been drafting off of all night, joked with me and said "Next time, you'll need to lead a few sets." I think we both knew I won't be ready for that for long while, but it was still an indirect compliment - you're doing better.

As everyone began leaving the pool, I walked out with Ironwoman Canada. Around this time I was starting to wonder, maybe these guys were injured or sick or Ironwoman Canada had told them to go easy and let me draft. As I started to voice these thoughts, Ironwoman Canada cut me off.

She told me they weren't true.

She told me she'd been putting me in this lane for a reason - for a day like today to arrive.

She told me I needed to be less timid.

She told me that I had more ability than I thought I did - and that I needed to push myself.

And she told me that one of my biggest obstacles has been just believing in myself.

I'm still a little skeptical about what next week's Masters class will bring, but am mulling over these few new ways of thinking. For trying out a few revised self-definitions.

For wondering what could lay ahead by just believing in myself.