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.

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.

Here I was able to observe the entire field from the leaders, who finished in just over 4 hours, to the final finishers who came in 4+ hours later.  I was struck by the relative isolation of the leaders in this particular race. The top 10 to 20 finishers, were spread thinly, in some cases several minutes apart  for most of the run. Those in the middle and back of the pack were engaged in a much more communal activity – seeming to race with, not against, each other in large, close groups.

I’ve pondered this a great deal since in 30 years of open water racing I’ve mainly been a front-pack finisher and a keen competitor.  This has meant mastering tactics like sighting quickly — and coaching others who swim in open water to do the same.

Thus a message I received this week from Bob McAdams a TI Coach in New Jersey was mind-expanding: “My first real open water swimming experience was last summer, while working with a student who was preparing for his first triathlon.  After some lessons in a pool, we went to a nearby lake with marker buoys.  It was also my first experience in a wetsuit. The temperature was something like 58 degrees F and I was amazed at how well a sleeveless wetsuit protected me from the cold.  I was also surprised to discover it let me float without kicking.

Although I can do sighting strokes, we both found it easier just to pause now and then and look at the shore.  What impressed me the most was the changing scenery.  I remember being struck by the fact that I could actually use swimming to travel somewhere!”

I relate strongly to the possibility of using swimming to travel somewhere you wish to go, rather than ping-pong between the walls of a man-made box. My first swimming urge, at age 7 or 8, was to be able to swim to a floating raft, 20 yards offshore at Bar Beach in Hempstead Harbor on LI Sound. For all my swimming ability at the time, it might as well have been across the Sound in Connecticut. The desire to reach that raft was as strong as any I recall from childhood.

But what Bob wrote about choosing to pause to look at the shore struck me, as never before, as possibly a very smart strategy even for racing, for open water swimmers and triathletes who are new to open water racing. Previously I’d just assumed that we should encourage everyone to strive for early mastery of the quick-peek sighting stroke that top open water racers use.

But anxiety, not inefficiency or lack of speed, is the most common and daunting challenge faced by novice open water racers. One of the best ways to not just maintain calm, but to actually enjoy the experience, would be to do all you can to avoid feeling rushed.

So why not include in your race plan to intentionally pause along the way to look at the shore, the changing scenery and take in — and feel good about — how far you’ve traveled.  The time you’ll add will be negligible (in fact by staying relaxed and avoiding the common tight-chest sensation you could even save time) while the enjoyment you gain will be considerable. And when you do pause, note and appreciate the company of all those you’re swimming with.

Learn more about how to gain greater enjoyment from open water swimming in my ebook Outside the Box.  Read a free excerpt here.

“Friend’s timing could not be better. Some 16 million Americans now practice yoga, a 5,000-year-old mental, physical and spiritual discipline brought to us by Indian gurus. Nowadays there aren’t just hourly classes in major American cities but also in places like Deephaven, Minn., and Hattiesburg, Miss. . . .  If yoga began as a meditation technique with poses, or asanas, devised to assist in reaching a transcendentally blissful state, it has . . . become much more about doing than being . . .  a weight-loss technique and a stress-management tool . . . an exploding market for workout clothes and equipment. “

“Friend set out to build his brand by straddling yoga’s two poles: he is trying to enhance yoga’s spiritual aspects by training teachers to speak inspirationally as they teach postures. Friend spends a great deal of time on philosophy and writes that the spiritual effects of yoga are more important than the physical ones . . . in language that draws as much from Dale Carnegie and the American idiom of self-improvement as from Hindu philosophy.”

“Friend’s yoga is based on classic hatha-yoga postures — he has refined them using what he calls ‘universal principles of alignment’ — but it can be as challenging as a student wants it to be. His classes are less about toned abs than about self-expression and enjoyment. Adjustments don’t make the poses ‘right,’ for instance, they make them “more beautiful.”

The intention to make an asana more beautiful rather than ‘right’ is one I relate strongly to. From my first day of coaching, in 1972, I had an instinct to coach esthetically more than energetically. My experience as a swimmer suggested that races were decided primarily by how long and hard you worked. My slight exposure to principles of technique left me with a sense one might need an engineering degree to really understand them.

But from literally my first hour on deck observing my team in the pool, I found myself magnetically drawn to visual impressions and to feeling that clean lines and flowing movement would produce faster times. Even as articles and clinic talks continued to describe technique like rocket science I grew steadily more convinced that that any instruction that made a swimmer look taller, sleeker or smoother deserved recall and reuse. Over the years what was initially instinctive and experimental developed into a method.

Striving continuously to make your stroke more beautiful obviously has far greater potential for engagement and uplift than striving to make it technically correct.

According to TI-Japan Head Coach Shinji Takeuchi,  the promise that draws the strongest response there is Learn to swim with more grace.  Though I’ve spent 45 years as a competitive swimmer and coach, nothing moves me more than seeing a truly beautiful stroke. Shinji’s Youtube video is both the most beautiful swimming and the most popular on the web, making it clear over a million others feel as I do.

What I take from this is that a holistic and crystallizing goal for many swimmers and triathletes would be to “Move with grace at the end of the race.”

I was there mainly to cheer daughter Betsy in her first triathlon — at the 70.3 distance. Betsy has taught TI for quite a few  years–to infants as well as octogenarians, to  nervous, even phobic, beginners as well as English Channel aspirants.  She’s also raced in open water several times a year, since her mid-20s. Her first triathlon was

True to form I never actually saw her take a single stroke, recognizing her only as she stood and peeled off her cap after 1.2 miles in Seneca Lake. I saw her flash by on the bike as  she left the transition to start 56 miles, and never again (I rode my own bike around Geneva to pass the time.). On the 13.1-mile run I found her by working backward from the finish to the 9-mile mark, then accompanied her for the last 4 miles, a stretch during which she passed dozens of competitors — and was passed by no one. Betsy improved her position by maintaining a relaxed smooth stride and walking only briefly at water stops, while others struggled with deteriorating form or walked for long stretches.  Though it was 85 degrees with an unforgiving sun, she looked remarkably fresh.

While I felt a father’s pride there, my memorable moment came over two hours after Betsy’s finish of 7 hrs 23 minutes. Indeed more than 90 minutes after the race was declared officially over at the 8 hour mark. Several minutes apart, at about 9 hours and 30 minutes — after the finish area had been broken down and taken away, the results trailer had been packed up, the spectators had departed and when all that remained of the post-race meal were some cold, glutinous squares of pizza — two final finishers came down the home stretch. One was a man in his 50s greeted by his wife and daughter and two volunteers who held up a length of discarded boundary tape for him to break, the other a woman wearing the green jersey of “Team Z,” who cheered her final steps lustily.

At least to me they’re anonymous–I realized belatedly I should have asked their names–because they don’t show up in the results. But I thought about the mental strength it takes to be  on the course alone, with the aid stations already closed, the cheering spectators departed, the hot sun beating and miles still to go, knowing your accomplishment will receive no official notice. But this–finishing what you started for your own satisfaction–seems to me, more than the fast times of elites that receive far more attention in the tri media, the true essence of this and all endurance sports.

I watched the race leaders during parts of the run and was impressed by their light. fluid, fast strides. But  they kind of made it look easy, and enjoyed support and encouragement  all along from aid station volunteers and spectators. They also tend to be the center of gravity and attention in the sport, particularly its media.

However, the great majority of the 1000 or so athletes I watched on Sunday appeared to be running to participate in a ‘healthful fellowship’ than to prove themselves athletically. But their keenest personal focus–in those hot, draining final miles–was to finish what they started. So this is a salute to those who traversed the hardest miles to do so.

I can’t help but add that persistence itself draws on particular brain circuits and the final finisher in an endurance event grows the persistence circuit more than anyone.

I’m in St Petersburg FL, resting up for Saturday’s 24-mile swim up Tampa Bay, the first of my three “ultra” swims this year. (Actually the 10-mile Maui Channel swim I did four weeks ago should also count as an ultra as it’s the equivalent of a 40-mile run.)

I spent 6 days driving cross-country from San Diego and was fortunate to be able to meet three good friends, each of whom I’d had the privilege to coach when they (and I) were younger. I was particularly gratified to learn that each was also doing an important race, the week – or even day – of my visit. I love to see my former athletes still aiming for goals and self-improvement decades after I coached them.

My first night out, in Tucson, I had dinner the evening of my arrival,  and breakfast the next day, with Jeff Utsch, who I coached in Richmond VA from 1978-83 where he set team, state and even national records in distance freestyle events. Jeff is 42 now, working in real estate development, and still very fast as a Masters swimmer. Several hours after our breakfast, Jeff swam 1000 yards Free in the AZ State Masters Championship in 10:03.

Two days later I overnighted in San Antonio with Jen Trainor Kennedy, and her husband Tom. Jen is an Army ER physician now and Tom is an instructor at the Officer Basic School at Fort Sam Houston. I coached Jen at West Point from 1996-99, where she set school and conference records in sprint events. The morning I left San Antonio for New Orleans, Jen left the house at 5 am to compete in a triathlon in San Marcos. In only her second year in triathlon, she is aiming to qualify for the US team in the World Triathlon Championships in Beijing and stands an excellent chance.

Then I spent two days and nights in New Orleans, visiting with Laurence Cohen, a personal injury attorney, who I coached at the very start of my career. He entered the US Merchant Marine Academy in Aug 1973 as a raw and gangly 18-year old with burning enthusiasm, who had swum only on a summer league team. Laurence progressed from swimming 200 yards free in 2:15 in his first meet with Kings Point to swimming 1:48 and qualifying for small college national championships just 16 months later. Since taking up triathlon some 20 years ago, Laurence has represented the USA in World Championships and the Maccabiah Games and will compete in the Ochsner New Orleans 70.3 Triathlon this Sunday, a day after I swim Tampa Bay Marathon, with an excellent chance of a podium place in the 50-54 age group.

Read Laurence’s blog about our visit here.

Twice a week I drive from Coronado, where I’ve been staying, to LaJolla Cove, where I swim. The trip is about 18 miles with 14 of that on I-5. The first few trips I drove  the interstate part at 70-75 mph. I noticed that my fuel consumption for those trips was 34-36mpg. When I reduced my speed to 60 mph, fuel efficiency improved to 44-45mpg. I reduced speed by about 17% and improved fuel efficiency by 25%. And my trip duration increased by just two minutes — from about 22 minutes to 24 minutes.

The reason why efficiency increases by 50% more than speed decreases is the geometric effect of wind resistance. A small reduction in speed can mean a significant reduction in energy cost.

There’s a corollary here for swimmers — particularly distance swimmers, and this goes double for triathletes. Because the primary cost of swimming is in overcoming water resistance, and resistance goes up far more than speed, it takes a LOT more energy to swim a little faster.

This means that you can save a LOT of energy by moderating your pace a little bit.  And the energy you save can help you hold that pace much longer. Or, in a triathlon, it could help you gain a lot more time on the run (or bike) than you give up on the swim, since – unlike swimming – it takes only a LITTLE energy to run a little faster.

And by practicing Total Immersion Swimming, you’ll probably recover the speed you sacrificed in short order.

Throughout the week, Suzanne has kept a daily chronicle of her experiences as a TI teacher trainee on her blog. I’ve read it with great interest for the insights it has brought to certain things I now do so instinctively  that I barely think about them. One was a comment on a talk I gave “framing” the activities we would do over the course of the week.

A key part of our training experience is a workshop we’re conducting with “live” students all week. The workshop is 10 x 1-hour lessons, offered two per day Mon thru Fri. We’ll also coach a day-long TI 2.0 workshop for experienced TI swimmers on Saturday, giving each trainee nearly 20 hours of real-world teaching practice, mentored and observed by experienced TI coaches over the course of the week.

At the beginning of each lesson I’ve gathered our 16 students for an overview of the activities – averaging 3 to 4 drills or exercises — in the coming hour. I start by demonstrating the final drill or skill we’ll do in the session and explaining how it will improve the ease and efficiency of their whole stroke. Then I demonstrate the activities leading up to it. taking care to illustrate how one activity sets up the one to follow.

This is critical because in the middle of the hour of learning that will follow, each student will typically become so absorbed in the often-granular details of the skill they’re working on at the moment (for instance 3 considerations for finding the right position of the lead hand in Skating drill) that they can forget the point of WHY it’s important to have it there — i.e. its consequential effect on whether you move your body forward, or just move your hand back, in the stroke.

I’ll continue to read Suzanne’s blog for the self-awareness it affords me. And perhaps you might pick up some  useful insight as well.

Set #1 4 x 50 + 2 x 100 + 1 x 200 + 2 x 100 + 4 x 50 on interval of 1:00/50

SPL: 50s – 37; 100s – 37-38; 200 — 37-38-38-38

Times: 50s: 52-51-50-50;  100s: 1:40-1:38   200: 3:14   100s: 1:34-1:33        50s: all :45

Notes: My goal was to use the SPL from the first four 50s as a basis for the rest of the set, and let the “tuneup effect” improve my times throughout the set.  I descended the first 4 x 50, swam a faster pace on the 2 x 100, improved my pace again on the 200,  improved it again on the 2^nd set of 2 x 100 (these were 5-6 seconds faster than the 1^st set of 100s) and held a constant pace on the final set of 50s (average of 5+ seconds faster than the initial set of 50s. This set illustrates what I call the “tuneup” effect.

When your training focus is physiological you start workout with a warmup. This is designed to have physiological effects – increased heart and respiration rate, increased body  temperature, decreased muscle viscosity (i.e. they “loosen up.”)

When your training focus is neural, you start practice with a  tuneup – sending signals along brain circuits both for keen attention and for skilled movement. As these circuits are tuned, the body also experiences the physiological effects of warmup. The difference is that while the swimming is relatively easy, the skill elements require exacting focus and precise, consistent execution.

As the tuneup and warmup effects took hold, I was able to improve pace, even while increasing swim distance, with no change in Stroke Length.

Set #2 12 rounds of [effortful 100 + recovery 50] on 3:00. The effortful 100s averaged 1:30 @ 75 strokes. The active-rest 50s were Backstroke, averaging 75 seconds, which left 15 seconds of passive rest before starting the next 100.

Notes: I plan to swim an “effortful” set twice a week, usually Tues and Fri morning. Virtually all other pool training will be designed to imprint efficiency – i.e. to help me get across the Channel more easily. The effortful sets are intended to increase pace-holding capacity – i.e. to help me get across the Channel faster. These sets will be 30 to 45 minutes in duration, and include an approximately equal ratio of work-to-rest. The rest will mostly be active – i.e. recovery-pace swimming.

The difference between effortful sets and efficiency sets is that I’ll aim to maintain a more challenging combination of Stroke Length and pace or tempo. These sets will be more metabolically demanding, leaving me somewhat more fatigued and possibly with sore muscles. Thus (because of the overall volume of my training, and my age) I have to be careful not to overdo and to allow sufficient recovery between them.

I swam this set 1 SPL higher than Set #1 – a minimal difference moving from tuneup to effort. My first 100 was 1:30, the next two 1:32, then a long string at 1:30 with one at 1:29. The last two were 1:29 and 1:27. In the middle, on two consective 100s I took 74 and 76 strokes. The other ten were all at 75 strokes.

Swimdown: 200 [50 Back @ 42 SPL + 50 Breast @ 21 SPL]