The Road to Pride: How to Survive a Swim Practice
Most swimmers dread that first moment of hopping into the pool. It’s the start of another practice, and no matter how much someone loves the sport, there’s always that second of hesitation before diving in. You are warm, about to be cold. You are tired after a long day and are about to become even more exhausted. During that first 200 of warmup, you already start dreading the next two hours of grinding. Your body groans, your mind wanders, and sometimes you can’t help but wonder why you are even doing this. Still, swimmers find a way to survive.
Misery Loves Company
Practice can be the worst part of your day, but it can also be the most freeing. The only thing more challenging than a swim practice is doing it alone. Luckily, that is rarely the case. Misery loves company, and there is no better feeling than complaining with your lane mates about a tough set. That collective complaining takes away some of the pain. You might not have the same times as your teammates, but you are all suffering together. That shared pain builds real camaraderie. You cannot fake that kind of connection.
During practice you are only thinking about the suck. You complain to yourself and others, saying you hate every second of it. But the second you start that cool down, the feeling flips. Pride sets in. You realize you accomplished something difficult, and you are better because of it. That shift from hating every second to feeling relief and satisfaction is what keeps swimmers coming back. That is the magic of being a part of a swim team. You suffer alone, but you survive together.
Bite-Sized Pieces
Every swimmer has stared at the whiteboard and felt their heart drop. 60 x 100s. 10 x 400s. A ladder set that seems to never end. How can a swimmer mentally attack something like that? You break it down. No one can be mentally prepared for that 60th 100, but anyone can focus on the fifth.
That is the trick. Think in bite-sized pieces. Once you finish five, you tell yourself, that is one round down, three more just like that. Then you are at twenty. Then you can say, okay, only 2 more of those. You keep tricking your brain into thinking you are closer than you actually are. Breaking each set into smaller, bite-sized chunks convinces your mind it is possible. It makes the misery manageable.
This mindset applies to every part of practice, especially the hardest ones you dread most. Each lap, each turn, each breath is just another step forward, another bite to take. Swimming is a sport of patience and rhythm. When you stop thinking about the totality and start focusing on the next piece in front of you, you stop surviving practice and start controlling it.
The Magic Black Line
There is a universal survival tactic for every swimmer, staring at that black line. Every swimmer knows it. You follow it back and forth, over and over, until you forget what lap you are even on. You hum songs in your head, replay conversations, or solve your life problems while staring at that line. It has heard every thought there is to hear.
Some days that black line is your therapist. Other days it is your enemy. But it is always there, keeping you honest. Swimming gives you the rare ability to be miserable and completely at peace at the same time. It can hurt and heal. You can clear your mind and think about everything, or clear your mind and think about nothing. The black line can be a storm or shelter for your mind. That time alone with your thoughts quietly makes you better. At the end of the day, every swimmer learns to love it.
The Payoff
Surviving a swim practice is more than just making it through each set. Practice is about pushing yourself to be better. It is about enduring the suck and coming out stronger on the other side. It is about your teammates, the ones who you are complaining with, but who also push you when you need it most. You learn how to take something that seems impossible and break it down until it is done. It is about the black line, where everything slows down and your mind clears. Every lap hurts, but every lap can teach you something.
After surviving a practice, you feel drained but proud. The pain fades, but the pride stays. That is why you come back. It is not about making it through practice, but finding out what you are made of in the process.
