A 76 year old lady gave me those three-word repetitive advice fifteen years ago. It was not, however, something one would consider an earth-shaking counsel or even a quote from a graduation speech. In fact, it was at the lap pool of a fitness gym. Let me back up.
Less than a year earlier my orthopedic doctor sat me down. He asked, "How much do you really love playing tennis?" I replied, "Very much. I've been playing for over thirty years now and when my right wrist kept getting re-injured I switched to playing lefty." To which he said, "That's not the answer I wanted to hear. If you continue to play and you have another problem with your Achilles tendon, I will operate but not so you can keep playing but just so you can walk." If the doctor was trying to shock me, he succeeded. He went on to explain that playing lefty altered my stance and movement on the court as to severely cause stresses on my tendons, heels and knees which my aging physiology was not accustomed to after years of playing right handed. So he told me to get into an entirely different exercise regimen altogether. The shock lasted only briefly. By the time I exited the parking lot of the hospital I accepted the fact and felt bitterness only momentarily, which was over by the end of the drive home. It was time to find something else indeed. That was 2004, three years before I retired.
Swimming was going to be the new exercise. There was one problem. As a kid, like all the boys on the island where I grew up we all thought we knew how to swim. I guess we thought correctly if swimming, or a facsimile of it, was negotiating the water between opposite banks of a narrow river or stream or "swimming" from one outrigger canoe to the next, or confidently diving for mussels in six to eight feet of water. And not drown.
The 25 meter pool at the gym, a mere 5 feet of water at its deepest area, is clearly less intimidating than the rushing waters of a flowing river, or wave after wave of sea water with jelly fish and sea snakes and other creatures real or imagined lurking beneath. The 25 meter pool was a piece of cake. Until my first "swim". I made it to the other end only because it would have been embarrassing to stop midway. My chest was bursting, I was gasping for air, with the ability to speak a near impossibility. Pushing towards the retirement marker was obviously no help. The vitality of youth and the thin frame of an under nourished teenage body were at a vanishing point of the distant past, now only fondly recalled as childhood memories. The "swimming" I knew how was technique-deficient and clearly not suited for back and forth, sustained multiple laps swim.
Months passed and though my swimming may have improved, my technique was barely a notch above the freestyle beginner's level and two laps were a struggle - a lap being one round trip of two lengths of the pool.
One afternoon, there was this lady swimming in one lane next to the one I was about to take. I started and did my two lap routine and stopped to take a breather. She was still swimming, back and forth with one regulated steady pace, one effortless stroke after another. She was not swimming very fast but faster than many others there - clearly faster than I was - and she did it with such grace and control, hardly splashing the water in her wake. It was for another half hour when she finally stopped. I had to ask her how she did it.
Trying not to be too forward I first asked how many laps she did. She did 30 laps. She just swam 1500 meters - one and a half kilometers for those who want to imagine road-walking that. Or, just under a mile. She used to do more but she's not young anymore, she added. Mind you, I was not going to ask her how old she was but then she volunteered it! She was going to be 76 in three months. Water proof make up aside, she didn't look it. It was time to ask her how she does it.
She said, "Sonny, it is practice, practice, practice". She gave me a few more tidbits of advice in the few minutes before she left. She told me that if her swimming looked easy to me, it was because it actually was. She said, "Since you're not likely aiming to be an Olympic caliber swimmer, you should swim like it is the easiest thing to do. You should not be struggling when you swim. You must feel comfortable with the water. Water should be your friend because it carries a good amount of your weight. Be grateful it is there to help you go there and back and do it many times over and over." She went on to tell me to read a book or two on swimming technique, watch video and always "ask other people you see who swim so effortlessly".
I saw her at the pool a few times more and then never again to this day. I have not become an Olympic caliber swimmer, obviously, but I had since been able to and still do swim 20 laps (one kilometer) continuously, non stop, and do it for about 30 minutes, give or take a minute. I read a couple of books from the public library, borrowed some video, and bought a book on swimming called "Total Immersion" by Terry Loughlin. A great book designed for recreational swimmers mainly or as an exercise regimen. And I did ask other folks, young and old alike, for more tips.
I can't forget what the 76 year old swimmer said about, "Practice, practice, practice" and about the water being there to carry much of our weight. It is a great metaphor for life I soon realized.
No one, nobody can claim to not have had help from someone, often from many, to help carry part of the burden of life. There was always a "body of water" (of people mostly) that provided us the kind of buoyancy to help us float and swim across from life's one river bank to the other. Parents, relatives, friends, co-workers, bosses, mentors, spiritual advisers, coaches, even total strangers, made up the tributaries and streams that came to be the river of our existence, to help us through the ocean of life. Though not entirely impossible, it is highly unlikely to not have had some water to help any of us float at one point or another. Granted many would and do struggle. Many others make it look easy.
Practice is the long route from points A to B. It is the anti-shortcut, if ever there is such a thing as a short cut to success.
"Practice puts brains in your muscles". - Sam Snead
Hand eye coordination and muscle memory are the brain's Cliff's Notes gathered over time that made Michael Jordan's jump shots look second nature or typing 70 words a minute by touch or playing the piano or violin seem miraculously uncanny. Practice is the antithesis of luck.
Famous pianist Vladimir Horowitz said:
Then, no matter at what age, practice doesn't seem to lose its value:
The world's foremost cellist, Pablo Casals, when he was 83 at that time, was asked one day why he continued to practice four to five hours a day. Casals answered, “Because I think I am making progress.”
The difference between excelling and struggling is not merely sheer talent, natural physical characteristics, or intelligence, or even status of wealth and family positions in society. Anyone may have all of those to gain an early advantage but in the long game of life the difference is practice, practice, practice.
Many of us may not achieve extraordinary feats of performance, at least not in the arena of super achievers, but because we practice good behavior, kindness, and fairness to others, we can rightfully claim to have reached a much higher level of human achievement than those who do not. In life's long journey, staying on the right track takes practice, practice, practice.
P.S. : It's been five years since I posted this and twenty three years since I started swimming laps, I can now swim the 1000 meters non-stop, back and forth in 24-25 minutes.
Swimming was going to be the new exercise. There was one problem. As a kid, like all the boys on the island where I grew up we all thought we knew how to swim. I guess we thought correctly if swimming, or a facsimile of it, was negotiating the water between opposite banks of a narrow river or stream or "swimming" from one outrigger canoe to the next, or confidently diving for mussels in six to eight feet of water. And not drown.
The 25 meter pool at the gym, a mere 5 feet of water at its deepest area, is clearly less intimidating than the rushing waters of a flowing river, or wave after wave of sea water with jelly fish and sea snakes and other creatures real or imagined lurking beneath. The 25 meter pool was a piece of cake. Until my first "swim". I made it to the other end only because it would have been embarrassing to stop midway. My chest was bursting, I was gasping for air, with the ability to speak a near impossibility. Pushing towards the retirement marker was obviously no help. The vitality of youth and the thin frame of an under nourished teenage body were at a vanishing point of the distant past, now only fondly recalled as childhood memories. The "swimming" I knew how was technique-deficient and clearly not suited for back and forth, sustained multiple laps swim.
Months passed and though my swimming may have improved, my technique was barely a notch above the freestyle beginner's level and two laps were a struggle - a lap being one round trip of two lengths of the pool.
One afternoon, there was this lady swimming in one lane next to the one I was about to take. I started and did my two lap routine and stopped to take a breather. She was still swimming, back and forth with one regulated steady pace, one effortless stroke after another. She was not swimming very fast but faster than many others there - clearly faster than I was - and she did it with such grace and control, hardly splashing the water in her wake. It was for another half hour when she finally stopped. I had to ask her how she did it.
Trying not to be too forward I first asked how many laps she did. She did 30 laps. She just swam 1500 meters - one and a half kilometers for those who want to imagine road-walking that. Or, just under a mile. She used to do more but she's not young anymore, she added. Mind you, I was not going to ask her how old she was but then she volunteered it! She was going to be 76 in three months. Water proof make up aside, she didn't look it. It was time to ask her how she does it.
She said, "Sonny, it is practice, practice, practice". She gave me a few more tidbits of advice in the few minutes before she left. She told me that if her swimming looked easy to me, it was because it actually was. She said, "Since you're not likely aiming to be an Olympic caliber swimmer, you should swim like it is the easiest thing to do. You should not be struggling when you swim. You must feel comfortable with the water. Water should be your friend because it carries a good amount of your weight. Be grateful it is there to help you go there and back and do it many times over and over." She went on to tell me to read a book or two on swimming technique, watch video and always "ask other people you see who swim so effortlessly".
I saw her at the pool a few times more and then never again to this day. I have not become an Olympic caliber swimmer, obviously, but I had since been able to and still do swim 20 laps (one kilometer) continuously, non stop, and do it for about 30 minutes, give or take a minute. I read a couple of books from the public library, borrowed some video, and bought a book on swimming called "Total Immersion" by Terry Loughlin. A great book designed for recreational swimmers mainly or as an exercise regimen. And I did ask other folks, young and old alike, for more tips.
I can't forget what the 76 year old swimmer said about, "Practice, practice, practice" and about the water being there to carry much of our weight. It is a great metaphor for life I soon realized.
No one, nobody can claim to not have had help from someone, often from many, to help carry part of the burden of life. There was always a "body of water" (of people mostly) that provided us the kind of buoyancy to help us float and swim across from life's one river bank to the other. Parents, relatives, friends, co-workers, bosses, mentors, spiritual advisers, coaches, even total strangers, made up the tributaries and streams that came to be the river of our existence, to help us through the ocean of life. Though not entirely impossible, it is highly unlikely to not have had some water to help any of us float at one point or another. Granted many would and do struggle. Many others make it look easy.
Practice is the long route from points A to B. It is the anti-shortcut, if ever there is such a thing as a short cut to success.
"Practice puts brains in your muscles". - Sam Snead
Hand eye coordination and muscle memory are the brain's Cliff's Notes gathered over time that made Michael Jordan's jump shots look second nature or typing 70 words a minute by touch or playing the piano or violin seem miraculously uncanny. Practice is the antithesis of luck.
Famous pianist Vladimir Horowitz said:
Then, no matter at what age, practice doesn't seem to lose its value:
The world's foremost cellist, Pablo Casals, when he was 83 at that time, was asked one day why he continued to practice four to five hours a day. Casals answered, “Because I think I am making progress.”
The difference between excelling and struggling is not merely sheer talent, natural physical characteristics, or intelligence, or even status of wealth and family positions in society. Anyone may have all of those to gain an early advantage but in the long game of life the difference is practice, practice, practice.
Many of us may not achieve extraordinary feats of performance, at least not in the arena of super achievers, but because we practice good behavior, kindness, and fairness to others, we can rightfully claim to have reached a much higher level of human achievement than those who do not. In life's long journey, staying on the right track takes practice, practice, practice.
P.S. : It's been five years since I posted this and twenty three years since I started swimming laps, I can now swim the 1000 meters non-stop, back and forth in 24-25 minutes.
