Short Course Racing
and My Bl**dy Legs!!
Jo Mitchinson - Team Aqua Sphere UK Athlete
Winter training is tough. It’s physically and mentally
exhausting. Especially, I’ve found when you don’t race from the end of one open
water season until the start of the next one. After last winter, when I didn’t
race from October until April, I realised that I needed something, a specific
focus, to break up this period of time. So this year I’ve done something I said
that I’d never do again and have raced short course a bit during the winter
months.
This wasn’t a decision I took lightly. Back in November at
the club champs, I qualified for the Hertfordshire County Championships 800m,
which gave me the chance to race in early February if I wanted. At that point I
didn’t know if I’d race or not – I was just pleased to have qualified. A few
weeks out from the race I was still totally unsure - I didn’t want to look like
a granny and I didn’t want to just make up the numbers. I asked my coach what
she thought. “If your head’s in it then you should race, if it’s not, don’t
bother”. She was completely right (a very annoying habit of hers as it
happens!!). I was training well enough to approach the race with confidence,
but if I couldn’t get my head around racing swimmers 20 years younger than me,
then there would be no point in going.
3 days out from the race I made my decision. The people
involved in Hertfordshire swimming haven’t changed much it appears. As I walked
onto poolside, the first person I saw was Geoff Wood – who I’ve known for the
best part of my swimming career. Geoff is someone who I respect enormously.
Some people are just in the sport for the right reason; for the athletes.
Despite never having been coached by him, it’s never stopped him from encouraging or congratulating me (and the 100’s of other Herts swimmers in the
same situation) when I've done well in the past. So, when he said “great to see you racing Jo”, it meant a lot.
I warmed up, then shoe horned myself into my race suit. I
warned one of my coaches, Emma, that this might take a while. We agreed that if
I hadn’t surfaced within 20minutes, she’d come looking for me to help me.
Getting into one of today’s racing suits is a serious workout in its’ own
right. This is a problem that didn’t exist when I swam as a teenager, in the
days of scarily high cut, skimpy race suits. Back then, the major concern was
not “can I physically get into it without dislocating something or ripping the
suit?”, but “will my cozzie disappear up my bum crack when I dive in?”
The race itself went well, I felt great and was relieved
that I was up there with the rest of my heat from the start. At about 500m it
started to hurt; it’s always my legs when I race short course – they are
notoriously lazy and really object to the number of tumbles involved. Magda (head coach) and Emma were at the side, I could see them in and out of each 50m turn as I breathed.
This is great when you see ‘thumbs up –‘, meaning on target, less great when at
600m they start waving their arms wildly, gesturing that my legs should now start
getting in the mix too. I knew they should, even my legs knew they should, but
they didn’t! The less my legs responded, the more the arms on poolside waved
frantically. At 650m my legs and I had a little chat (it was blatantly obvious
that they had now reached the point where they were simply dreading each turn,
the lactate was burning and I could barely push off the wall) we decided the
best plan was to breathe to the other side, so that I couldn’t see my coaches
and let my arms do the work as usual. I finished, felt instantly sick, but was
really pleased to finish in a time 7 seconds better than my qualifying time (in
9.40.1) and with a Herts County Champs bronze medal.
Most of the race feedback was about my need for a leg kick. When
I watched the race back on the live stream, even the commentator could be heard
very clearly criticising my lack of leg kick off of the turns. So, I spent lots
of the next few weeks with a kickboard in my hands completing kick sets that 3
years ago would’ve been my freestyle sets. Things like 1x400 on 8mins, 2x200 on
4mins, 4x100 on 2mins and 8x50m on 1minute – long course at 05:45 nearly broke
me!!
Here’s a brief summary of the saga of ‘Me and My Legs’. We
have an odd relationship. They frequently feel like they’ve got a mind of their
own. I know they’re weak and I know they’re lazy. Frustratingly though, I also
know that, even when I was young, I’d have been a much better swimmer if they
just kicked a bit more – even a regular, strong 2 beat leg kick would have been
better than a weak crossover when they remember. I’ve lost count of the times
my coaches over the years have said “you’d have won that/beaten her/gone faster
if you’d kicked on the last 50m”. My legs and I have considered this matter carefully.
We’ve come to conclusion that I’m possibly ridiculously uncoordinated, it seems
to be that either my arms rotate, or my legs kick fast. If my arms are
rotating, my legs seem to stop and just decide to come along for the ride. When
I use them, they make me feel sick within about 20m. If I dive in and get them
going straight away we’re OK for a bit, but I’ve never managed to introduce
them during a race. They just won’t work however much I’m willing them to. This
is a great source of frustration to both Magda and I. She hassles me constantly
about them and beasts my legs in training while I get grumpy and say things
like “they’re doing their best!” or “leave them alone”. I feel obliged to
defend them, even when they’re being crap because they’re mine!!
Anyway, off of the back of the counties, I entered the Mid
Beds Open Meet. The 400m would fall on my 38th birthday and
considering my daughter had already entered, I thought I might as well join in.
My entry time was my East of England Masters record of 4:49, swum in October
2016. I was confident I could go faster – I just didn’t know how much faster.
Before the race Magda sent me through the splits she wanted me to hit – they’d
bring me in just under 4:40. It seemed a huge jump, but I thought I could get
pretty close to it. The night before the race, I got this….
“Push the 3rd 100m, or at least hold the pace of
the 2nd. Sprint the last 50m, No lazy turns! And use your legs!!
Basically die!”
There wasn’t much to say to that, other than “Yes Boss!”. I
warmed up well and hit the target time of 34s in my pace 50’s. Then it was race
time. I got out well, felt good and settled quickly. At 200m though, my legs
were already ‘feeling the burn’. At 300m I knew they were not going to
cooperate with me again and at 350m there was literally nothing left to give. I
couldn’t even feel them off of the wall. Instead of following Magda’s “use your
legs” advice, I’m pretty confident that neither of them even broke the surface
of the water after 300m. I touched and was really pleased to see 4:40.55 on the
clock and a 2nd place finish in the fastest heat. Then I saw my splits and knew I was going to be in trouble.
My last 50m was the slowest of the entire race, so when I heard “what happened
to your legs?”, it wasn’t a surprise.
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| Not bad - but the 2nd 200m can be better!! |
The results of my races so far in 2017 have been great, much
better than expected. It’s nice to know that with so much still to work on I
have the potential to go quicker and I am very proud to have qualified for the
(not Masters) ASA East Region Winter Championships in the 400m and 800m. I’ve
never competed at these. When I last competed at Regional Championships,
Hertfordshire still counted as a ‘Southern County’. Getting a Regional
qualifying time has achieved one of my goals. I’m also very close to another
one (going under 4:40 again). And one day, before I finally hang up my goggles,
I’d like to get out after a race and have someone (anyone!) say something
complimentary to me about my leg kick. So, for now, it’s back to the ‘leg’
drawing board again!!
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| This is so true; from a blog called "Thing's you'll learn from swimming" |
