As we began our first instruction session, I told our campers we would use it to introduce three essential skills of Perpetual Motion Freestyle, the effortless style that is ideal for long, unbroken stretches of stroking:

• Release the Head to a neutral position.
• Float a Weightless Arm forward with no bubbles and no hurry.
• Calm your Legs so they can “draft behind” your upper body.

I demonstrated all three first, emphasizing that virtually nothing they see in my stroke  today is “naturally occurring.”  If they had seen me swim in college, it would have been like watching a different person. Indeed, a discerning observer would even notice significant increases in efficiency and relaxation today compared to when I entered my 50s, nine years ago . And therein lies a clue to the attitude that makes all the difference – I’ve never become complacent about my swimming; never felt that it was as good as it could or should be.

That means I never swim for a workout, or to ‘get the yards in’ . . . or even to relax. Without exception, I practice to improve my swimming. Each time I enter the water, my explicit goal is to swim better than I ever have. I begin every repeat or pool length with a specific Stroke Thought intended to refine or imprint some aspect of skill more deeply.

To illustrate this, I related an article published in Scientific American in August 2006, “The Expert Mind” by Philip Ross. Mr. Ross wrote about a comprehensive study of the mental strengths of chess players at or near the grandmaster level. Chess is often used for studies of how the brain works because relative mastery can be measured with unusual objectivity. A 2000-level player will beat a 1600-level player 75 percent of the time.  And 2400-level players will beat 2000-level players with similar consistency.

There are particular kinds of information-processing ability known to be critical in chess, for instance “chunking” the ability to organize dizzying amounts of what most people would see as disparate pieces of information – e.g. the arrangement of pieces on a board – into a much smaller number of more easily analyzed patterns or categories.

Researchers were surprised to find no difference in inherent “brainpower” between 1600, 2000 and 24oo level players. So what accounted for the difference in their success or mastery of the game? Very simply, the players who reached the 1600 level, then stopped improving, did so because they felt they had reached their potential. The 2000-level players felt they were “good enough” when they attained that level. The 2400-level players had just never stopped striving to improve, never felt they were as good as they could be.

This is perhaps the most valuable of all insights for any human swimmer because – given that humans are programmed by nature and evolution to be uncomfortable, awkward and massively inefficient swimmers (wasting 97 percent of energy, on average) that our improvement opportunities are literally without limit.  This is why the Kaizen philosophy of incremental, but continuous, improvement is, more than any particular drill or technique, central to the spirit of Total Immersion Swimming.

Michael at the Lake Placid Ironman

Since 2006, I have completed over a dozen triathlons, including five Olympic distance, two half and two full Ironman, and countless sprints. All with a torn rotator cuff.

Just over a year ago I had surgery to repair the tear then took a pass on the 2009 racing season. While others were training, I was rehabbing and gradually reintroducing my body to the sport. Taking time away to heal forced me to rethink my approach. I am 59 years old, so my focus changed from piling on the training miles to improving technique. Working smarter if you will.

To improve technique I embraced first Chi Running and then Total Immersion. I have been practicing Chi Running for four years and my body has responded with improved times and no injuries.  TI has taken longer. Overcoming 50 years of muscle memory has proved to be a bigger challenge than I first imagined.

I have worked with excellent TI coaches, read the books, watched the videos and done the drills. Still, it wasn’t “sinking in.” (No pun intended.)

Until last July, when I attended a TI Open Water Workshop in Lake Placid, NY with Terry and Betsy Laughlin. The focus was on calm observant swimming, body-sensing, matching the strokes of other swimmers, relaxing in a crowd with a focus on enjoying the water and making gradual and continual improvements.

The following Monday at a weekly mini-tri in Lake Placid I had an opportunity to practice what I had learned. This was to be my first foray of the year into a competitive environment so I was curious as to what I would experience. Swimming observantly, for the first time during a race, I found myself noticing how many people seemed at odds with the water—more kicking and thrashing than swimming. I decided to focus on swimming long, keeping my head down, making sure I was using proper arm position and staying quiet.

I also began to look for someone whose stroke I could match. A swimmer came by who had good extension and really nice ‘marionette’ arms (one of our focal points from the clinic). Must be another TI student I thought. Then I looked again and realized that it was my 15-year old daughter, Jane!

When I got to the buoy, I decided to try the turn we learned in TI clinic—and it worked! As I was coming back, the sun was on my right so I had to breathe on my left. Not my strong suit, but I simply rolled at the core and it was OK. I noticed I was not able to sense what my left arm was doing so I’ll work on that next time I’m out. I exited the water in 10 minutes.

What was unusual was I was not the least bit winded. This is important as it made it much easier to get out of my wetsuit. I was on the bike and out of the transition area in under 2 minutes. What happened next was totally unexpected. I was so focused on body sensing and being relaxed that I maintained that on the bike. I relaxed and focused on how I was sitting on the bike, where my head was and having a good pedal stroke. Focusing on relaxation translated into more speed with surprisingly little effort. During the 12-mile bike I (the biker who never passes anyone) passed 25 people.

After another fast transition to the run, I continued body-sensing during my Chi Run. The result was the easiest race I’ve ever done, yet13 minutes faster than my previous best on this course.

What was most important was not the time but the new way I learned to race. Moving forward I will focus not on the clock but on how I’m feeling and moving  – i.e. process, not outcome). Improved performance, it seems, follows improved mindfulness.

Michael finishes 2008 LP Ironman in 15:14.

Visit Michael’s website www.go2ctsonline.com to read inspirational essays on triathlon and personal development, or to learn about his Corporate Business Consulting, Outplacement Services, One-On-One Coaching, and Inspirational & Educational Speeches.

Jim at Ironman Wisconsin

“Terry’s advice was to be the quiet center of whatever pack you’re in.  This created a ‘cocoon of calm purpose’ and led to my most memorable swim of all time.”

I subscribe to “Triathlete” and “Inside Triathlon” magazines, whose articles mostly feature elite athletes in their mid-20s with no visible body fat and limitless training time. While these athletes are incredibly impressive, I don’t find their times and stories inspirational.  I’m 57 years old, with spinal discs that bulge and slip, knees missing cartilage, and one leg shorter than the other, as a result of breaking my pelvis in a bike crash. Then there’s my day job. As dean of Penn State’s Smeal College of Business, I spend 80 hours a week tending to the needs of 6200 students.  When colleagues are heading home after a college event at 10:30 pm, I’m heading to the conference center pool to squeeze in a bit of practice. I think of myself more as a completer than competer. Yet I think most triathletes probably have more in common with me than with the athletes in the magazines. In that spirit, I’m writing to share some insights that have made my athletic pursuits much more satisfying and rewarding.

After years as a runner, my myriad injuries made me consider triathlon . . . but first there was the matter of that open water swim. Total Immersion first made it possible to be a triathlete, then made it actually pleasurable. A TI Weekend Workshop gave me the confidence to enter a few sprint and Olympic distance races. In August 2008, I completed a Half-Iron distance, and, wondered if I could finish a full Ironman. The ease with which I completed a 2 ¼-mile ocean race on the final day of a TI Open Water Camp at Maho Bay last spring clinched the deal.

In September, I heard the uplifting phrase “You’re an Ironman” while crossing the finish line at Madison in 16:09 – an unremarkable time compared to the folks in “Triathlete” but for me a lifetime peak moment. While the leaders were escorted through their final miles by motorcycles, I had an older woman in a motorized wheelchair telling me I was “special.”  That was inspirational. And my day-long, 140.6-mile journey was affirming.

At the start, I’d positioned myself far to one side. I recall thinking “What am I doing here with all these young, fit athletes?” Before we’d swum 3 minutes, I was instead thinking “What are some of these guys doing here” as I saw so many churning wastefully.

Before the race I’d watched Terry’s video interview in which his advice was to strive to be the quiet center of whatever pack you found yourself in.  This focus – legs streamlined, arms extending, strokes measured — created what Terry calls a “cocoon of calm purpose” and led to    my most memorable swim of all time. I jogged out of the water at 1:28, a pleasant surprise considering how easily I’d swum. But the more significant impact of my TI mindset was still ahead.

I’d learned in training that the purposeful focus developed by TI practice also benefits cycling and running. As I set out for 112 miles of riding and 26.2 of running, I knew the unity of thought and action  I’d established in the water would carry through the long day we all faced. I carried on as many around me were dropping out — not because of superior fitness, but because TI taught me to stay focused on this moment not the miles ahead.  I had a “technique thought” for each stroke, pedal  or stride. These thoughts seemed to propel me steadily to the next mile marker.  Repeat 140 times. What could be easier?

I kept my focus through transitions as well.  Each lasted a languid 14 minutes. It was restorative to escape the heat and relax for a bit, but I wasn’t idle.  I reviewed focal strategies — physical, geographical, emotional – to build confidence and to reinforce my calm state.

So my advice to other adult-onset athletes is don’t rely solely on high profile athletes for direction or inspiration.  Set your own goals and share your insights on what gets you through a long day, how you prepare, how you cope with intimidation in the swim, etc. Most of us have more in common with each other than with the better-known athletes. I hope this contributes to a dialogue from which we can all learn.

Jim Thomas lives in State College, PA.  He is the dean of the Smeal College of Business at Penn State University.  He has been at PSU for 23 years as a faculty member and administrator.  Jim is married to his support team and biggest inspiration, Michele. He has two kids in college and one recent grad all at Penn State.