Proper form for using a kickboard



Donal Fagan wrote:

>
> I thought it was Ludwig Mies van der Rohe. But later Robert Venturi came back with, "Less is
> a bore."
>
>
How did I forget that! I daily watched one of his buildings go up in Chicago and I would agree with
Venturi in that case, but not usually.

> Most of the elite strokes I've seen have been very elegant.
>
And others have been remarkable for their speed despite a conspicuous lack of elegance, e.g. Evans.
But aesthetics of course involves stuff behind the appearance; that's why I had trouble thinking of
swimming in that term. But elegance, yes, that certainly describes Mark Spitz, in my mind. I'd even
go so far as to say that *elegant* is how I felt while swimming until the first time I saw myself on
tape. That was a painful shock. Klutzy replaced elegance as the appropriate description.

Ruth Kazez
 
On 04 Dec 2003 01:34:13 GMT, [email protected] (Totalswimm) wrote:

>I enjoy the Design themed issue each year, but so far I've only had time to read the articles on
>Auldbrass, the Ipod and Song airlines. I'll look for Loewy.

Actually the article was about inspiration, but they led with the Loewy quote.

Donal Fagan AIA Donal@DonalO'Fagan.com (Anglicise the name to reply by e-mail)
 
Swimming is fun. I love swimming, not for the least because it's comes awfully close to fulfilling
'flying dreams'. That being said there was a point when the effort I put into training meant that
this was not enough.

I'd like to tell a personal story you're free to ignore. The summer of 2000 was an interesting one
for me. I'd been looking forward to watching friends compete in Sydney, a little wistful for not
having a 'ring side seat' but more then anything thankful that it seems a near 2 year long battle
with something mysterious viral aliment never properly diagnosed seemed to be at an end. I was back
training, feeling good and making great progress. Then (I'll avoid the messy details) i managed to
dislocate my knee & collect a handful of fractures. Spent 6 weeks on crutches. Developed tendonitis
in both shoulders and the opposite hip. The precognition, the fear of what was to come is all I
really remember of the actual incident. Shock took care of the rest.

I've broad jumped more then 3m, split sub 26 in my lcm 100fly with less then 6 strokes and dreamed
of the day I'd have all the tools for a world class 100. I've never assembled them but I've felt the
hope and seen the path required to acquire them. This never happened, but it's not what hurts most.
I'm currently trying to 'get wet' again in anticipation for the 2005 (master's) Worlds in Edmonton.
I know that a best time by anything more then 0.12 seconds in the 50 will be enough for a world age
group record but I fear that, despite the advantages of being in my mid twenties instead of my late
teens, mind and body willing I may yet be unable to reacomplish what I've already done, let alone
progress farther. I guess it's a little something like the feeling Tom Ponting (he trained, and now
coaches about 80km south of me) spoke of when he mentioned 'the day I realized I was no longer an
Olympian'.

I wholly agree that enjoyment of the activity, of the sport, should be an important factor but for
those who wish to _compete_ it's never been, and will never be, enough. Winning might not be
everything but the drive and motivations that make it possible are at once gracious in their bounty
and fearsome in their demands.

--Mike

On Tue, 02 Dec 2003 20:37:24 +0000, Ross Bogue wrote:

> In <[email protected]> Larry Weisenthal wrote:
>>
>> And the meet is a disappointment. No championships. No time drops. A whole year has gone by.
>> Memories of how you spent that year go flooding past. And what do you have to show for it?
>
>
> Are you having a bad day, Larry?
>
> You're right. If the only reward you get from swimming is a gold medal every fourth year, you're
> in the wrong sport.
>
> More than 99% of our swimming time is spent in workouts. In a well-run program, that 99% is also
> where most of the fun of swimming is found. The striving for excellence, the fellowship, the
> occasional games, the physical pleasure of flying through the water: all of those are reasons we
> keep coming back.
>
> The big meets are fun. We focus toward them when planning our training schedules. We do our best
> at them. A few of us even win medals. But they're not the reason for the sport.
>
> I know you understand all this. You are "Runnswim", after all. The same arguments can describe
> both of your sports.
>
> I also know you're thinking of all those poor 7-year-olds swimming lap after lap in winner-gets-
> all programs.
>
>
>> To quote Lemley:
>>
>> "Everything"
>
>
> Agreed. Lemley tries to keep the sport fun for all members of his teams
> - not just the few medalists.
>
>
>
> Ross
 
Mike Edey wrote in a message

"I wholly agree that enjoyment of the activity, of the sport, should be an important factor but for
those who wish to _compete_ it's never been, and will never be, enough. Winning might not be
everything but the drive and motivations that make it possible are at once gracious in their bounty
and fearsome in their demands . . . there's nothing wrong with wanting to win, or being frustrated &
dissapointed with losing. Yes it's important to 'count your victories, the 100% attendance, the
workout pb, the leadership position but you can't discount the value of winning. Without a winner
there's no competition and without competition there's no sport. Again I don't want to imply that
Ross declared a moratorium on winning medals but I do want a voice for those of us who value the
activity and the competition."

I hear you, Mike, and agree with you to a great extent. There's nothing wrong with wanting to
"win". I never discount that drive to excel which fuels my most dedicated athletes. However, I
believe HOW you define "winning" quickly becomes crucial to the enjoyment of both the journey and
the destination. I'm sure you've read as many aphorisms as I have about what "winning" really
means. On the one hand, it's prudent to realize that four swimmers in the same lane might define
winning completely differently. On the other hand, some coaches feel the need to define what it
means "to win" for everyone on the team - one definition fits all - in an attempt to bring
individuals together.

When we debate issues like "winning" and "losing" on rss, often someone in our newsgroup makes the
statement "you're mixing apples and oranges" and I feel like saying "Well, at least we're all fruit
here" but that just doesn't sound right. Sometimes I feel like saying "You're talking about the same
orange in different stages of its life" but that doesn't sound quite right either. So here's what I
hope WILL sound right.

I contribute my thoughts from the perspective of a coach most of the time. Like most coaches, I also
swam competitively. I started at age 6 and competed until I was 40 so I think I can speak
knowledgeably from the viewpoint of ex-age group swimmer, ex-high school swimmer, ex-college swimmer
and ex-masters swimmer. I'm also the father of a 9 year old girl and 11 year old boy, both of whom
swim on my team so I can come at topics from the vantage point of a parent of both genders as well.
For the last 10 years or so I've devoted myself to my children and my work. They're now old enough
to dress and feed themselves and have plenty of friends other than their dad so I see a time in the
near future when I'll get back in the pool and will be able to contribute to rss from the viewpoint
of an active swimmer as well.

For the moment, however, I represent the view from the deck. I coach kids as young as 9 for part of
the year; I'm the junior/age group squad's head coach during the high school season since our normal
JAG squad head coach takes 3 months off to be the head coach of MY high school team's cross town
rival. It's a friendly rivalry and I would rather face him across the deck at dual meets than anyone
else in town. For 13 weeks every fall, when my 45 senior swimmers are training with and competing
for their respective high school teams, I coach the Lathrop high school swimmers from 3-5 pm and 25
MSST kids (ages 9-13) from 5-6:30 pm.

Sometimes it's pretty challenging to work with one of the fastest young sprinters in the country one
minute (he swam a 21.1 to win the 50 free last month at our high school state championships) and a
lane full of 9 year olds learning to turn, the next. During Christmas break and during the summer
several of my older swimmers who compete for DI, DII, and DIII college teams will come home to train
with my club team. I also have one parent who's registered with USA Swimming and will occasionally
jump in and train with us.

So, there are times (say on a Saturday morning during Christmas break) when I may be in the odd and
exhilarating position of coaching a VERY wide range of ages and stages, from relatively novice 9
year olds to a 400 IMer who wants to go under 4:00 next spring at his conference meet and needs to
train at a very high level while he's home. That's mixing apples and oranges and bananas and grapes
and . . . I'm sure I'm not alone in this particular boat. Most coaches work with anyone and everyone
who shows up at practice.

Add to this mix that I've coached a few swimmers from the age of 10 to the age of 35, that is, from
age grouper to high schooler to collegian to masters swimmer AND I currently coach several kids who
are the children of people I coached when THEY were kids. I'm blessed with so many perspectives on
competitive swimming you'd think there might be times when I need to sit down and carefully separate
issues, strategies, the very manner in which I comment, etc. And perhaps I should.

I don't. That would interupt my "flow" as a coach. I'm sure Terry knows what I'm talking about. Just
as he's talked about being in the flow almost every time he swims, I'm in the flow almost every time
I set foot on deck. Almost. If I don't start practice that way, I certainly try to get there as
quickly as I can. How does one do that? Trying too hard, as we've discussed, almost invariably short
circuits the "flow" state. To find the flow I do what I ask my swimmers to do on a daily basis -
focus and relax. Or relax and focus. Finding the flow state from either direction works as well, it
seems to me.

I don't use salty language with my college kids and PG rated language with my age groupers. I'd
have to "think" too much about what to say. Rather, I carefully choose what I say to everyone
based on what I "feel" they need to hear at the moment, be it motivation or praise. I keep
everything on as even a keel as possible. I make it my business to learn why each swimmer on my
team is here and then stay focused on them when we talk. If I'm connected to each swimmer in this
very direct way, I "feel" their pain (so to speak) or feel their joy or their frustration or
whatever. I'm present, meaning I'm "with" them, right here, right now. This is the Zen influence
that's shaped so much of my life in the last 30 years. I don't need to prepare a different
strategy for each swimmer; rather, I simply need to be present in the same way with each swimmer
and let their needs suggest a strategy.

You mention how important it is to "count your victories" or have "100% attendance" or achieve that
"workout pb" or be in a "leadership position". For some, they value those things when they're
younger, but not as much as they gain age and experience. To some "winning is everything" and to
some "training to win is everything". I want to honor whatever it is that compels my swimmers to
show up every day and blend their intentions and high expectations with those of so many others. And
I want to stay connected to them so as their goals and expectations change, I realize this.

My own expectations are simple to understand (and yet, in some ways, quite challenging to master):

Be on time, pay attention, bring your water bottle, give your best effort, encourage your teammates.

Our work (meaning mine and my swimmers) is to come to know ourselves better through sport. It's not
so much my position that "nothing else matters" except this journey of self-discovery, as much as it
is I believe everything ELSE derives from the work we do on ourselves.

Just my 5 cents.

Regards,

Scott