One might ask: “Why make such a point about getting the timing right in Spear?”  The answer, which will be important to her as a teacher, is that there will be certain circumstances in which you would be more particular and others in which you might choose to be less.

In the 100s of workshops I’ve taught I can recall countless instances where some aspect of SpearSwitch — most often Patient Catch — proved elusive for some student. Because the Weekend Workshop follows a formal structure limited by (i) the allotted pool time and (ii) the fact that we can’t hold up a class of 10 to 20 people because 1 or 2 haven’t quite got it, I decide to move on to SwingSwitches. At first I was troubled by progressing to the next drill, when the previous wasn’t quite right. But I often saw that the problem resolved in the next step.

So the question is, if a particular aspect of skill finds resolution in a later step in the progression, why revisit it?

In the case of a teacher trainee, the answer is simple. Students learn movements far faster and more clearly by visual means. Thus the most valuable skill as a teacher of skilled movement is the ability to demonstrate impeccable form.

(It’s also essential that they be able to accurately mimic the incorrect form of a student. I’ve learned that the fastest way I can correct a student’s movement error is to demonstrate a few cycles of what I observed them doing, then, without pausing, smoothly segue into a few cycles what I’d like to see them do.)

The other aspect is: Should she encourage a student to revisit the earlier drill in pursuit of ‘perfection.’ It’s less about pursuing perfection, than it is (i) Encouraging an unquenchable kaizen passion for real Mastery; not every student will choose that path, but we always encourage it. And (ii) Swimming with the highest level of skill is such a complex art, and the path to that level has such individual unpredictability, I have had ‘unexpected epiphanies’ on countless occasions – noticing some sensation I had not noticed before that made such a difference in my whole stroke, that I made it a focal point for hours of practice.

In the case of nailing the timing in SpearSwitch, I’ve found that it helped me get the subtle distinction between holding the water and pulling. When I took that distinction to Swing and Swim, both got better – even after the general form of both had been ‘acceptable’ or even quite good.

SpearSwitch with Patient Catch

Segment 2 showed me sharing the pool with a single ‘human swimmer.’ The underwater view revealed the critical differences that allowed me to travel twice as far on each stroke. The most significant is that Perpetual Motion Freestyle (PMF) prioritizes active streamlining, while human-swimming prioritizes pulling and kicking.

We showed that contrast to illustrate that swimming ‘like a human’ is normal . . . a relaxed and streamlined stroke is a learned skill. From 1966 to 1991, I swam ‘like a human’ too. I only began learning PMF at age 40 — and have continued improving my form for 20 years. Such enduring improvement is possible because human-swimming instincts are encoded in our DNA. However, as the TI coaches and swimmers in Segment 2 illustrate once you learn PMF you replace wired-in struggle with flow.  Segment 3 reveals the starting point for learning it. (Note: One of those swimmers, Dave Barra, completed an English Channel crossing yesterday, Sept 1.)

Humans naturally swim like other terrestrial mammals, head high and limbs churning. PMF consciously mimics the swimming of aquatic mammals (whales, dolphins, walrus, manatee, sea otters) to whom evolution has given a naturally streamlined shape. Another natural advantage of aquatic mammals is aquatic balance – a low-drag horizontal position. The designed-in balance we humans have is vertical – great for walking and running, but a source of drag when swimming.

Thus the first step in learning PMF is to rewire your brain.  This creates new circuits of motor neurons,  which allow us to move differently. Even more critically, it creates new cognitive circuits, so we can think differently.

Superman Glide, illustrated here, begins the creation of motor circuits that guide my head (hanging) arms (wide tracks) and legs (passive and streamlined) into new positions. Cognitively, it replaces the almost-universal sinking sensation with a ray of hope that ‘weightlessness’ is possible. Once I felt the possibility of weightlessness, I gained the freedom to make a conscious choice to use my arms to (i) extend my bodyline and (ii) ‘pierce’ the water instead of churning — an inevitable legacy of the sinking sensation.

Superman Glide and Laser-Lead Flutter, shown in this segment, are examples of a new form of TI drill – called Tuneups – introduced in the Self-Coached Workshop. Tuneups are intended for practice  in short intervals–usually 6 to 10 yards, rather than  full lengths.  They’re designed to narrownly target your attention on an essential aspect of the stroke, making it easier to maintain as you progress to more complex movement and longer reps. They also help you relax when you feel yourself becoming tense or — as human swimmers usually do — working too hard.

For most of this summer I’ve done little fast swimming, largely because an autoimmune condition called polymyalgia rheumatica caused muscle inflammation and sapped my energy.  I made peace with that by figuring this was a good time for restorative swimming.  I turn 60 next March and will likely train with intensity and focus in coming months to ‘make a splash’ in my new age group. Using this summer to recharge my batteries felt like a good thing. But once my condition was diagnosed and properly treated, I felt such relief that I decided to swim my first races of the summer, on August 14 at the Betsy Owens Cable Swims in Lake Placid.

Predictably my results reflected lack of training, a fair 25:09 for the 1-mile, followed an hour later by 56:21 for 2 Miles. Ouch — 8 minutes slower than last year, and over 10 minutes back of my best since age 55.  But I felt better the next morning, when I swam up and down Mirror Lake with Neil Brophy, Bruce Gianniny and Kim Skomra. Our 45-minute swim was a relaxed cruise for Neil, who had  set a new USMS 45-49 mile record of 20:03 and Bruce who broke the 55-59 record (which I had set four years ago) with 22:51. For me it was instructive to see their stroke length.  I couldn’t come close to matching Neil’s (consoling myself that he’s 3 inches taller) and needed to focus intently to match Bruce’s.  Doing so felt strikingly salutary. That was fresh in mind when I resumed swimming in Lake Minnewaska later that week.

New 45-49 record holder Neil Brophy

55-59 record-holder Bruce Gianniny

At Minnewaska, I can monitor efficiency by counting strokes along a 200-yd line. Prior to Betsy Owens I’d been taking an average of about 180 strokes per length, as I tried to pack the two weeks during which I felt healthy again with rehearsals of race-like tempo and effort.

But with the race behind me, and encouraged by how good extending myself to match Bruce’s strokes felt, I’m now striving to keep my average at 160,  a habit I’d had several years ago but had since lost. I soon decided that the best way to prepare myself for the fast swimming I hope to do next spring and summer is to strengthen my neural efficiency foundation by continuing this way through the fall.

Smooth  Stroke, Clear Mind

This didn’t just feel good physically. Striving to reach the end of the line in 160 strokes brought a simpler, clearer focus than I’d had in some time.  After enough practice, a lap of 160 strokes or less acquires a recognizable feel—bodyline sleek and stable, catch patient and firm; even the water around me feels calmer. When any of those sensations feels slightly off, even for only a short patch. my count increases by up to 10 strokes.

Thus I start each length of the line, with a clear set of sensations-to-maintain then spend 3-plus minutes trying to hold onto the feeling . . . and striving just as intently to stay locked in mentally. Such powerful focus has made my swimming more meditative than it had been in a while.

While some may picture meditation as sitting on a pillow in a quiet room, anything you do with great awareness is meditation. “Watching your breath” is meditation; listening to chants is meditation. And so is swimming that’s focused on banishing distraction. Meditation describes any state of consciousness that’s free of scattered thoughts. The key is to choose a targeted focus.

Start narrow. Expand gradually.

Those who have only recently begun TI Practice will find more success by keeping that focus very narrow. Visualizing a laser beam projecting from your head-spine line is one example.  Slicing your hand into a “Mail Slot” is another. As your practice hours mount, your focal points can become gradually more  encompassing or consolidated as mine are.

Shinji - Mail Slot (from OTB ebook)

As your powers of focus — and your neural circuits — strengthen, you can test both by swimming faster. After 90 minutes, over two days, of striving only to hold the 160-stroke-sensation, I attempted some Speedplay practice. (Learn more about Speedplay by reading Chapter 11: Develop Speed Gears with Speedplay of the Outside the Box ebook. See it illustrated in the Outside the Box DVD. )

I began by alternating sets of 10 strokes easy, 10 strokes ‘brisk’ (which means “How fast can I swim without losing the sensation?”) I also monitored how many strokes that added to my count.  When I could consistently complete a length of Speedplay in 165 or less, I began taking 20 strokes brisk at a time. Soon I was sustaining stretches of 40 strokes brisk, with only a slight degradation in the sense-of-control I was aiming for.

This deep internal focus kept me in a meditative state, something virtually impossible while training to swim a particular time., the traditional way to train for speed.

Finally, if you race triathlons, strength of focus gains its greatest power by insulating you from the potentially-paralyzing distraction of hundreds of churning bodies.

Segment 1 of the “Work Less, Swim Better” series showed me moving smoothly through a pack of other swimmers in rough water in the 2006 World Masters Championship. Segment 2 uses underwater video to reveal what was happening underwater as I did. The key points include:

Pierce the Water

Human swimming, exemplified by the swimmer in the next lane, is all about pulling and kicking. His hand goes in, down and back in one motion. As the video shows, I travel twice as far on each stroke, taking 4 to 5 strokes, to his 9 to 10 over about 10 yards. His stroke moves water back, My stroke moves my body forward. One reason is that I use my extending hand to “separate water molecules” (as does the tapered snout of a barracuda) then line up my body to slide torso and legs through the human-sized sleeve I create. That habit – taught in Lessons 2 and 4 of the Self-Coached Workshop – significantly reduces drag so I travel farther on each stroke.

Hold your place

Human swimmers press the hand straight down by instinct – and because they need constant propulsion. When drag is high, you lose momentum quickly, so you have to stroke ceaselessly. Streamlining helps me conserve momentum, which gives me the luxury of more time to firmly trap water behind my hand. My solid “grip” is another reason my stroke propels me twice as far. It also means lets me use the “free energy” of a weight shift, rather than weaker and easily-fatigued arm muscles, as my human-swimming lane mate does. The patient catch and synchronized weight shift are taught in Lessons 5 and 6.

Cocoon of Calm

We all start out as Human Swimmers.  It takes targeted and patient focus to replace deep-seated habits with Separating Molecules and Holding your Place. This not only helps you hold form in  rough water; it also builds powerful focus that converts into a “cocoon of calm” when you encounter a churning crowd in a triathlon swim leg or open water race. Practice like that demonstrated by TI coaches from 2:14 to 2:38 helps swimmers not only accept, but enjoy, close quarters. Even while crowding each other, and intentionally creating contact, none change their form. (Click here for an expanded version of this video .) This builds resistance to the loss of form and focus experienced by many triathletes in the first minutes of a race.

Anyone can learn PMF.

There’s nothing accidental about the form those TI coaches display. Besides the seven coaches in a pack, the three swimming under the bridge, and the four swimmers following the rope all look virtually the same. PMF is the first example in swimming history of a precisely-replicable technique . . .  and one that’s highly effective: All three TI coaches swimming under the bridge — Greg Sautner, Dave Barra and me – have won USMS national open water championships. PMF is a form anyone can learn by following the  step-by-step stroke-building procedures in the 10-Lesson Series.

The other day my wife Alice and soon-to-be-son-in-law Rich were discussing the book Shop Class as Soulcraft by Matthew Crawford. I’d read reviews when it was published last year. Crawford, finding his work at a “think tank” unsatisfying, left to work in a motorcycle repair shop. His experiences led to an essay published in 2006, which he later expanded into a book about the dignity and meaningfulness of hands-on work – solving problems, fixing something and having a direct connection with a tangible result. His point was how uncommon this is in the “knowledge economy” —  making conference calls, sending emails, filling out spreadsheets. At the end of the day, you might wonder what you really accomplished.

The essay reminded me of my first car, a ‘59 VW Bug with a canvas sunroof, bought for $75.  Then I spent another 5 bucks on “How to Keep your Volkswagen Alive: A Manual of Step by Step Procedures for the Compleat Idiot” by John Muir.

Though I’d never shown any mechanical aptitude, sheer economic necessity drove me to open the engine compartment. What a relief to see that the ‘guts’ were naked, simple and hardly larger than a mower engine.  Using the book, I did tune-ups, valve adjustments and brake jobs. It kept my car on the road and me solvent, but the most important outcome was a sense of empowerment and accomplishment equal to anything I’d known.

Today when I open the hood of my 2010  Jetta TDI wagon – a car that’s an absolute dream to drive in comparison to that earlier veedub — about all I’m comfortable doing is adding windshield washer fluid.

Recalling this makes me think a subconscious motivation in creating the Self-Coached Workshop/10-Lesson Series has been my fondness for that book and the sense of accomplishment it brought. I’d like  nothing more than to be  ”John Muir for Adult Swimmers.”

What problems have you identified in your stroke, what errors might you fix? And how satisfying will the tangible result of your improvement be?  Here’s a set of “Step by Step Procedures” for stroke improvement.

From Chapter 5 “Different Strokes: Open Water vs. Pool Technique”

While others at Masters workout focused on pool speed, I used every repeat, no matter how short, as a rehearsal for open water races.  On short repeats, most would swim with aggressive, high-turnover strokes – some taking 21 or more strokes for 25 yards, while I limited myself to 15 SPL, regardless of how brief the swim or how hard the coach urged us to swim.

I probably could have swum those sprints faster by taking more strokes. But since my favored races were long open water swims, rather than pool sprints, I preferred to imprint the optimal way to swim during them. On “sprints,” rather than take more strokes, I focused on getting more out of those I took. I felt this would help program my muscles for the faster parts of open water races-–the start and finish. I was unconcerned that my sprints were slow by pool standards, so long as they developed open water speed.

Beyond the question of stroke count, I’d also begun to refine my sense of technique adjustments that minimized fatigue without sacrificing pace, a years-long process that included an unhurried catch, a higher-elbow-but-lighter-pressure stroke, and a patiently-tuned 2-Beat kick.

My goal was to avoid reliance on fatigue-prone arm and shoulder muscles by drawing ‘free power’ from weight shifts and untiring core muscle. This required the patience to work in a longer time horizon: While my pool-mates were thinking about racing to the next wall, I thought constantly about how I hoped to feel during open-water races months-–or years–in the future.

To swim your best in open water you must make a strategic choice to swim in a way that could slow your pool times, at least on shorter repeats — and, during a period of adjustment, possibly on longer ones as well. However, any swim that lasts over a minute should benefit fairly quickly from the reduced energy cost of Perpetual Motion Freestyle.  But first, you must be willing to defer the immediate gratification of short-term speed for long-term gain.

*  *  *  *

Will myelin improve my  swimming?

At 1:23 of the accompanying video, I play a brief clip from the Outside the Box DVD, showing me swimming in the 2006 World Masters Open Water Championship in San Francisco Bay (clip shot by TI-Japan Head Coach Shinji Takeuchi.) It shows me swimming through a pack of swimmers from waves which started 5 to 10 minutes before mine. The difference between my technique and theirs is striking. I explain their struggles as resulting from “not enough myelin.” This excerpt from the Outside the Box ebook explains the significance of myelin.

From Chapter 10: “Increase Sustainability by Secreting Myelin!”

Muscle memory is a metaphor for a physiological change in your neuromuscular system. Swimming efficiently requires a specific set of muscles to be turned on (and off) in an exacting and non-instinctive pattern. With each stroke, an electrochemical signal travels from your brain to instruct motor units to contract or relax. Each time the signal crosses that circuit, a bit more myelin, a fatty substance that acts like insulation on electrical wires, is secreted, strengthening the signal received by your muscles. A relatively faint signal is good enough to keep the movement consistent while swimming slowly for short distances in a low-distraction environment. It takes a strong signal, i.e., a lot of myelin, to remain efficient as your fatique increases when you swim a mile or more at higher speeds with waves smacking you or avoiding collisions with other swimmers. . . . in the rough water of San Francisco Bay, the main difference between me and those I’m passing is myelin secretion. Thicker insulation, laid down during thousands of focused, purposeful rehearsal repeats allows me to swim with virtually the same stroke as in the pool or a serene lake. Lacking it, most others swim with a “barely coping” stroke.

He commented: “My abdomen is relaxed, when it should be tense to draw my spine straight. When practicing in front of a mirror, I really have to maintain massive abdominal tension to reduce the arch. Today at the pool, I had some success, by telling myself I was not swimming but making a bridge.”

Katie and Alan both advised Andreas to focus  on releasing his head to a neutral position before focusing on core muscles. TI Coach Suzanne Atkinson added that “some focus on contracting the abdominals . . . will aid in all the fundamentals . . . connecting the pull with rotation with kick and even breathing, tightening your body position and unifying the actions.”

This is all advice worth taking to heart:
1) Releasing your head to a neutral position should solve most issues with excess lower-back curvature, reducing the amount of ab activation needed.
2) Creating tone (not tension) in the core should be directed more at stabilizing the bodyline overall, and with improving integration of all elements of the  stroke.

This got me thinking about how I’ve trained and thought about core muscles in relation to swimming, and specifically to freestyle technique.

I regularly  do many hours of dryland exercise, like the bridge illustrated above, plus yoga. I do those as much to keep my back strong and supple–though spending many hours sitting at a computer desk–as to benefit my swimming.  I’ve sometimes compared the ‘core engagement’ I feel while doing dryland exercise to what I feel while swimming. I feel my abs working much more intensively during land exercise  than while swimming.

On a few occasions I’ve  thought of ‘pulling in my belly-button’  or ‘tucking my tailbone’ while swimming. As “Stroke Thoughts” I’ve found those interesting, but not sensed significant change in my stroke as a result.

On the other hand, what I’ve found more revealing are times when I’ve simply paid attention to abdominals as I swam, to bring what’s happening naturally from my subconscious to conscious awareness.

When I first did so, I was surprised to discover a striking level of abdominal tone, despite not trying to contract them. My immediate reaction was “Hey, this is a pretty good ab workout.”

After later reflection, my intuition was that tone in the core most likely resulted from hundreds of hours of thinking about Active Streamlining, including such thoughts as:
1) Fit through a smaller ‘hole’ in the water.
2) Use the extending arm to lengthen the bodyline.
3) Keep the bodyline long for a extra nanosecond in each stroke.
4) Make less noise, fewer bubbles and smaller waves.
5) Line up each side of my body to follow the spearing arm through the ’sleeve’ it makes.

In other words, thinking consciously of an image like the one below- as well as practicing the variety of drills and Stroke Thoughts that produce this kind of alignment – will ensure that every length you swim will also give your abs a good workout AND fire a larger and more integrated network of circuits in your brain.

The “Energy Sink”

Have you ever seen a fish that wasn’t horizontal while swimming? Fish and aquatic mammals are naturally designed for aquatic (i.e. horizontal) balance. Humans, as terrestrial mammals, are naturally designed for land (i.e. vertical) balance. Most of us recognize that the cost of imbalance in the water is more drag and fatigue, less speed. But the true cost is actually far greater.

Actually, few swimmers think of it as a balance problem. It feels more like a sinking problem which leaves most new swimmers feeling at least highly uncomfortable, and often at risk. Imbalance is the reason nearly every swimmer’s first attempt to cross the pool is a “near death experience.”

Usually, we’re not in real danger. But who can think clearly when it feels like your survival depends on churning furiously until you reach safety. The reason we feel threatened is a simple matter of buoyancy and gravity. Buoyancy pushes our air-carrying lungs up, while gravity pulls our dense lower body down. That has costs far beyond what most people realize.

1. A sagging lower body increases drag considerably.

2. The resulting survival strokes churn up a froth of bubbles—and can easily exhaust you within 30 seconds–but are utterly ineffective for propulsion.

3. However the costs in mental energy may be greatest of all, and have rarely been acknowledged.

Imbalance burns Mental Energy

Though the brain makes up just 2 percent of the body’s weight, it consumes 20 percent of its energy. Normally about 50 percent of the brain’s energy consumption goes to managing balance. But when the brain senses imbalance–and particularly when it thinks you’re sinking–it goes into critical mode and  nearly 100 percent of its energy is consumed with trying to fix that.

Until you fix ‘that sinking feeling,’ you have no chance of becoming comfortable or efficient.  And with that amount of energy waste, it makes no sense at all to try to ‘tough it out.’ Before tackling even the most rudimentary skills, we need to send the brain unambiguous signals that we’ve got control of body position. That frees up the mental energy to focus on skills that require some degree of calm focus.

That’s why all TI learning sequences start by teaching comfort and body control–as is the case with Lesson One of the Self-Coached Workshop.

Relax into Weightlessness

In terms of stroke mechanics, Lesson One exercises  teach you to position head, arms and legs in ways you’ll maintain in every drill (and stroke) that follows. But more importantly–by teaching you to relax into weightlessness–it frees you from the evolutionary legacy of being a land-dwelling species.

Like all terrestial mammals, we’re wired by evolution to keep the head above the surface, in a ’safe’ place. The head-lifting instinct just makes our balance problem worse. And our survival instincts also interpret gravity–at least in water–as a threat to well-being.  Bypassing that instinct and replacing it with an instinct to cooperate with gravity is a difficult, but utterly necessary, step.

Though Lesson 1 drills appear simple, they are essential in replacing an inborn reflex with a calmly considered choice.  They also free up the considerable mental energy required for skill-acquisition. For this reason, we recommend repeating Superman Glide as much as necessary to imprint a sense of support and stability.  We also recommend that you “tune up” for more advanced skills by starting reps with a few moments of Superman Glide, while working on more advanced lessons and skills.

Newer swimmers, anyone who still feels their legs are sinking, or find it difficult to relax the kick will benefit hugely from staying with Lesson One longer. All Lesson One exercises are Tuneups, designed for practice in short intervals–usually 10 yards or less.

Even after progressing to Lesson Two and beyond, use one or more of these– particularly Superman Glide–as tuneups as you begin a practice session . . . or anytime you feel yourself becoming tense or working too hard. Repeat Superman Glide or Laser Lead Flutter until you feel weightless and relaxed again, then maintain that as you resume practice.

There are few better examples of simple wisdom that can apply to  nearly anything. Like swimming improvement.

Between unremarkable wood block and impressivly lifelike duck lie three distinct stages, each requiring specific tools.

A band saw to cut a piece of lumber into the general shape and size of the duck. It cuts away large chunks of  not-duck quickly, but not finely.

Carving knives to create a recognizable, yet still rough, head, body, wings and tail. These cut away smaller pieces of not-duck but what lands on the floor are still chunks.

And finally,  rasps and sandpaper to detail beak, eyes,  wings and tail.  The not-duck falling to the floor at this stage goes from chips to splinters to powder.

Improving your stroke follows a remarkably similar process of carving away whatever doesn’t display the fluency, relaxation, and general harmony shown by an efficient stroke. Start with big chunks and progress steadily to ever-finer skills. This also means working from large body parts and “gross-motor” skills, to smaller body parts and “fine-motor” skills.

Balance and weightlessness drills like Superman Glide, Laser-Lead Flutter, or Core Balance, take away big chunks – discomfort, breathing distress, tension, sinking legs, unstable body.

Alignment and streamlining drills, like Skating , SpearSwitch, SwingSwitch, shape a human – or terrestrial mammal – body to have the “slippery” qualities of aquatic mammals.

Propulsion-oriented drills, like OverSwitch and Stroke Thoughts to “tune” the Catch and 2-Beat Kick, create a smooth and effective arm-and-leg action.

Using this clip of Perpetual Motion Freestyle as a model, what can you carve away from your stroke that looks different?

I’ve found a new focal point: pain, actually. Today I went to the pool wanting to focus on basics. I hadn’t swum for a week due to a tender shoulder, so there I was with the user guide for Lesson 3 of Easy Freestyle by my side going through the drills.

My shoulder began to annoy me a bit and then I read for the 100th time the phrase ‘hip-drive -not arm pull – should initiate each switch’ and that does it:  The moment I start focusing on this phrase any annoyance on the shoulder disappears.

Right Hip Poised to Initiate SpearSwitch

I kept using pain sensitivity as a reminder and so went swiftly and pain-free through 90 minutes of practice . . . I also managed to improve my SPL from 18 to 17!

My Reply:

Pain is indeed a useful indicator – and one we are more likely to encounter as we age. Rather than an annoyance, it can be a reminder to move more consciously. I virtually never feel shoulder pain – or any other kind – when swimming, but this month I’m spending more hours in yoga class than in the pool.

For perhaps 10 years, spinal x-rays have shown that I was developing arthritic narrowing in my lower spine. It’s a familial condition, but my devotion to swimming and yoga have helped keep me relatively symptom-free.

But my arthritic spine has, in one sense, been a gift, as it forces me to pay close attention to posture. Even slight compression in my lower spine causes tension or spasm. So I do yoga poses, and sit at my desk, with mindfully keeping my navel pulled in and my pelvis tucked.

There are some yoga poses which I used to be able to do with impunity that I now have to do with care – or in modified ways. And some I can no longer do at all. It’s an inconvenience but a small price to pay for the greater tendency for self-awareness it has produced.