The Thrill of Victory

We'll get to the thrills in a moment. But first, let's talk about the Agony of the Feet.

I suspect that having a bit of a sadistic streak is a requirement for a good physical therapist. They must be able to strap you down to a table during a lightning storm and laugh maniacally as you scream while they twist and hammer and fold your fragile body into positions it has no desire to experience.



The good news is that I am seeing some additional range of motion in my long-suffering left ankle. The bad news is that it hurts. The treatments have included some horrendously deep poking and gouging to break up scar tissue, as well as various exercises that would make Jack LaLanne cry. But I'm making progress.

I'm not saying that I ever expect to run with the fluidity of a Jamaican...but there's hope that I'll be able to run without being mistaken for a botched laboratory experiment.

Anyway, I apologize for the focus difficulties in the photos below, but I forgot to set the camera to adequately deal with action shooting under low light conditions.

Though there were many excellent and exciting races in Sunday's swim meet at the Green Mountain Rec Center, I'm only going to describe my own two "This time, it's personal" grudge matches.

The first one was a head-to-head matchup against my younger brother in the 100 backstroke. He had taken a multi-decade sabbatical from swimming, so you'd think I'd have a large advantage. In freestyle, I probably do...but in our younger days, he was by far the better backstroker, and has been beating me in some backstroke workout sets. I was expecting it to be a close race.



I think he actually did swim faster than I did. But I had the advantage on the turns, and came out of each wall with a lead. But coming down to the finish, it was pretty close.



This was the last photo of the race, and the timers were only paying attention to their watches. In fact, as far as I could tell, NO ONE in the building could definitively say which one of us touched first.

Therefore, I am claiming the victory.

The other highly-anticipated grudge match of the day was the 50-meter Tazmanian Hula (aka "Taz".) In our last dual meet, Jim Murphy had finished ahead of me in a 25 Taz leg on a relay, and was salivating at the chance to dethrone me in the 50. As we stepped to the blocks, the crowd was buzzing with excitement!

The rules for Taz say that the toes must never be submerged, even on the starts and turns. (I'm on the right.)



The stroke may be performed with hands over your head or by your sides. The overhead method is generally faster, but creates difficulty in breathing, since your head tends to submerge. I do the "sides" method, while Mr. Murphy has mastered the art of the overhead. At the end of the first 25, he was slightly ahead.



But he muffed his turn, and tangled himself in the lane ropes. I couldn't see that he'd been left behind, so I continued cranking as hard as I could.



I finished with plenty of time to relax and savor my triumph before he finally came floating into the wall. My time (1:06+) wasn't anywhere near my World Record, but I have more-or-less come to accept that such speed has vanished along with my youth. Sigh.



Still, with two wins in two important grudge matches, I am satisfied with the day. I also completed another legal 200 butterfly, a 400 that felt pretty good, and a couple of moderately hard 200s of freestyle. I didn't put in nearly enough yardage to account for the calories consumed at the potluck luncheon, but it's simply not realistic to expect to achieve caloric balance at an event like this. It was great to catch up with old friends, and to have a chance to get to know my new friends better, as well. If you missed this meet, you should definitely come to the next one.

In the meantime, keep working on your Taz (and other strokes, too, I guess), and have a great day!