Not Missing the Boat: My First Trip to Masters Nationals
By: Emily Erington
Last month I got on a plane to Greensboro, NC to compete at the 2016 USMS Spring National Championships.
Coach Nate sent us with specific instructions to “take it all in and have fun.” That being understood, I still went in with expectations for myself and for what the experience would be. Not only were my expectations blown away, but I also realized that they were also misguided.
There were 219 local and nineteen regional swim clubs represented at this meet, totaling almost 1,800 swimmers. At one meet. Any adult USMS-registered swimmer is welcome to participate in three events with no qualifying time. You can, however, enter as many events as you want with a qualifying time.
I’ve known how to swim since I was a child, but have only come to swimming as a sport in the last five years. It’s been only months since I would even entertain the idea of taking part in a meet. In my first meet (October 2015), I achieved qualifying times for the championship meet. It was such an exciting surprise. Being 48-½ years old, I took this as a sign to do something crazy. I wouldn’t have considered going without a qualifying time, but since I had two and I was pretty sure I could get one more, I decided it had to be done. I had to be a part of it.
I entered the three events for which I qualified: 50 Free (my best event), 50 Fly, and 100 Free. Just for fun and because I’d be there, I also entered the 100 IM. I had never raced this event, so I estimated a seed time.
The one thing I was most hopeful for and looking forward to was being given a tag on a lanyard labeled “Athlete.” Age group swimmers keep all their meet tags and attach them to their bags. It’s a bit of a vanity thing, obviously; like deer heads on a wall. Still, I was looking forward to having my own piece of swag. Even better, this tag gave us access to an entrance not open to the general public. I may have been one of 1,800 Athletes, but I felt famous and important.
THE ENVIRONMENT:
With a meet of this size, there is a lot of time in between your events to just look around and take it all in. Immediately, I was pleasantly surprised and impressed by the spectrum of swimmers there. I had thought my story was pretty unique: late to the sport of swimming, demonstrates some ability, however still a true student of the sport with a long way to go.
In the locker room, I spoke with a woman who was in her 60s, and, like me, this was her first Nationals. She only taught herself how to swim seven years ago! AND she was putting on a tech suit! First of all, tech suits. These things are not cheap. They can range from $100 to $500. There are probably ones that are even more expensive than that. And they don’t last forever. I’ve been told that they really are only good for four to seven swims!! But I also know people who will wear theirs for a season or more.
The first time I wore a tech suit, it was one that Kendal Jacobson loaned me. After that, I had to have one of my own! But how could I justify such a purchase? I’m not a “real” swimmer. I don’t swim THAT fast. Coaches and fellow master swimmers with more experience than I convinced me and I ended up getting one on sale, combined it with a discount from USMS when I renewed my membership. Maybe I am worthy, just not full-price-worthy.
Looking around at the meet, I bet 98% of the female swimmers at that meet were in tech suits. I thought my presence in a tech suit might be some sort of flagrant false advertising, but seeing EVERYONE in them was a shock. Did they all earn it? Or perhaps, like me, they just wanted one. What a concept.
It began to dawn on me that all these ladies just want to compete. It didn’t matter how old they were, their swim experience, their body type. They were here to do what you do at a swim meet, which is put on THE suit and do your best. I was going to have to ponder this.
Walking around the pool, I was struck by the young, tall, Olympic-looking people getting ready to swim, as well as the older, tall, still incredibly fit people. It was obvious why they were here: to kick ass and take names. They’d been doing this all their lives.
Swimming is truly a lifelong sport. High school and college days may be over, but that’s no reason to stop playing the game. I saw a man walking around in what looked like fuzzy kid pajamas from the 70s. They were actually his swim team warm-ups from 30 years ago when he went to Yale! I asked if I could take his picture, and he was happy to oblige. He told me he really didn’t know why he had saved them all these years, but he did. AND he wore them all weekend. He looked amazing. I imagine for every super-fit, obviously super-fast swimmer there, there was at least one person that looked like that person’s parent, and another like their grandparent.
I passed a man, and I could see the outline of his pacemaker under the skin on his chest. I saw people younger than I who were slower and people older than I who were faster. I met Ashley Whitney, an Olympic gold medalist, without knowing it. I just thought I was hanging out with a friendly person. I met Katy Dooley, who’s very well known in national and probably world swimming circles. She swam the English Channel, for God’s sake. She was so positive and supportive—said she was impressed by me, couldn’t believe I had so little experience. THIS is what astonishes me: I am in her realm, but she saw my effort, my personal challenge, and was honestly impressed by it.
THE RACES:
My first race was the 100 IM: a challenge because I’m still learning all strokes besides freestyle. I gave myself a seed time of 1:30 for the IM, but I figured that I could do a 1:20 or, hopefully, better. I came in at 1:20.15, which I was pleased with. It was a solid time to start and build on.
My second race was the 100 Free. Basically, I am a freestyler. It’s nothing I’ve had to learn as an adult, except I have had to make a lot of corrections. The 100 Free was also the same day as the 100 IM. This would be the only day I had 2 races on the same day. I had to wait a long time after the 100 IM to race the 100 Free. By the time it rolled around, my adrenaline had come way down. Also, I had only raced it once before, but not recently. About all I knew I was in for was how badly the last 25 would hurt. But then: maybe it wouldn’t! Maybe I’d improved since last October and it would be different this time. Also, I really had to pee, which was just annoying, but fortunately once the race starts, you’re so busy, that feeling goes away.
I think my strategy was to go out fast and hope that I had made great conditioning strides since October and that the last twenty-five yards might not feel so bad. This would be how I could drop from 1:06.22 to 1:05. My dad texted me before the race, “Are you shooting for 1:05?” I knew he was watching on the live feed. God, let me make 1:05. But, to keep it simple, I would swim an aggressive first 50 or, at least, race the person next to me and, ultimately, pass them.
When the buzzer went off, I just jumped in and went. Already after the first flip turn I still felt like I had to pee. Wasn’t that feeling supposed to go away? Damn it! I’m not concentrating! I’m going to blow this! Sixty-five yards in, my quads started to burn. I told myself to not panic, that this was no surprise, just DO NOT give up my pace. Like Nate says, I have to be okay with feeling this.
At the last turn off the wall, I was amazed how badly I had to pee. (I couldn’t believe I was still having conscious thoughts about that.) Though I had hoped the pain of the last twenty-five yards wouldn’t be as bad as last time, it was actually worse. My quads felt like the flesh was being flayed off with a dull knife. My leg strength and kick were draining out of me. I put all my concentration to my arms. I heard Brendan in my head saying, “Stay long.” Must keep reaching long and pulling water. Oh my God, I am going so slow. This is sad. Very sad. I’ve blown it.
The last ten to twelve yards were endless. Remembering Nate’s finish instructions, I reached and turned slightly to my side to make myself as long as I possibly could and touched the wall. I looked up.
My time was 1:02.43: almost four seconds faster than my best time, and a time I had never even considered a possibility.
Maybe I’m hallucinating. I’ve got to get out of this water to get out of the way for the next person. How can I do this without using my legs, which still burn like they’re soaking in acid.
I got out and flung my legs around to a seated position on the side of the pool. Luckily, Kendal was there, thank GOD, because I needed someone to help me up. “Is that really 1:02?” I asked. She said yes, and I just hugged her. Kendal is really fast and very experienced. It felt amazing to see how happy she was…for ME! I took a screen shot from the live feed of her helping me up and thanked her on Facebook. She replied, “That’s the way to leave it all in the pool. True competitor.”
I finished middle of the pack in my age group with this amazing time, but for me, I really, really felt like a champion.
Those two races ended up being my best races. I had all morning on the day of my 50 Free to prepare. I ate carefully, warmed-up mindfully, stretched, visualized, everything short of creating a vision board. The fifty-yard race distances are fast and cruel. Experience and mental toughness are important. I was seeded sixth in my age group in this event. All I wanted this whole weekend was to come home with a top five placement. The announcer would call out the events with, “It’s your turn, it’s your time.” I just had the most amazing 100 free. How could this not happen?
Answer: Pretty easily. I’m sure it was more than one thing. There were ten swimmers in this heat for the top ten seeded swimmers. I finished tenth of the seeded swimmers. Actually, worse than that, I ended up thirteenth overall in my age group, with no medal, no “Top Five” patch, not even a “Top Ten” patch to show for it. All because of adding .79 of one second. Huge. It stung badly, I think because having a medal was going to be my proof that I deserved to be there. In less than a second, I lost my proof.
The next day I was disappointed again in my 50 Fly. My seed time was 32.28 and I really felt I had made some improvement with the stroke. All I had to do was swim it and let it happen. But, a fumble with my hands on the wall at the turn, then panic and no breathing on the way back, resulted in five very slow and labored strokes to the wall—adding just under two whole seconds, which is a huge failure on a 50.
After the 50 fly, I was just ready to be done and go home. It had been a long weekend, in an indoor pool with lots of noise and people. I’ve observed at meets like this, but not been in the trenches of it. I had time to think while I waited for Andrew and Jake to race their last races. Why was I there? Tell the truth. The reason I was there was to prove I was good enough. However, having lost the proof I thought I needed, I somehow still felt good enough to be there. More than good enough.
Clearly, anyone who has the DESIRE to go out and do something like this deserves to be there. Having this desire and actually doing something about it makes you more than good enough. And this desire, this gaming spirit, does not know age, gender, fitness, or ability. It just IS. And because it is, all these different people can come together and race against one another happily.
There’s a bigger picture here and it’s not just about swimming. How did all these different people end up in the same place competing in such a physically challenging sport?? I’ve spent the last two years lamenting how I had not found swimming and, more recently, competitive swimming in my youth. I thought I missed the boat. But, looking at all these people, I thought: Maybe there’s no boat to miss. Maybe I AM the boat. I just have to do what I want to do and enjoy it.
No one here missed the boat. They’re on their own boat and making their own journey and making their own happiness. Sometimes people hold themselves back because they think they have to do something HUGE. But, dammit, it’s ALL HUGE! I was among people who have accomplished so many great things, and they were welcoming me. I’m almost 50 years old, and it was just hitting me. Everyone in the world wants to be (or wants their kid to be) the World’s Greatest Whatever. That’s just not what it’s about. Being in the pool is what it’s about.
They say that with age comes privilege. I think the privilege is being mentally and emotionally capable to just be happy with your life as it is. Everything else is bonus. Being at the USMS Masters Nationals with all these people from all walks of life, I realized, you cannot be sad here! Did you add time? Mess up your turn and blow your 50? Run out of gas on your 200IM? That’s okay, because take a look at this 90-year-old man who just swam a 400 IM and set a new national age group record. He’s living life. Oh yeah, that’s what it’s all about.
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