I Am Going to Crush You
On the Beauty of Wanting to "Win"
Hi beautiful first day of spring friends!
Friday was the first day all week I got out of bed and into the pool for morning Masters workout. This meant the alarm going off at 5:01 am (so I can say I get up after five), and then lying around for ten minutes in this mental wrestling match:
I’m going! No I’m not! I want to go… but I’m so tired. I miss everyone! But I’ve been up reading since 3:30 a.m. I’m awake, I might as well go, I mean ….
All this is dialogued to Steve, who rises out of bed and pads into the kitchen to turn on the coffee. My bladder finally gets me up, and I declare with finality, “I’M GOING!” and as I sit on a cold toilet seat I have a change of heart because it’s been so nice to lounge in bed this week. I need it, right?
“You know, I”m gonna go back to bed!” I announce. No response from Steve, which means . . . he didn’t hear me (I think) . . . I can change my mind again, without him knowing.
And wouldn’t you know it, once I got in the water I felt AMAZING! Best swim ever 🏊🏻♀️ 💨
Actually, no. I was lazy and tired and sluggish. One evolution in my sports life is that I’m much better at meeting myself where I am, rather than wishing I was faster, able to keep up with others, or be someone who naturally wakes up at 5 a.m. and feels energized all day long. I think this is a gift of aging—a more graceful settling in to the facts. Do you find this the case, too?
A SPONTANEOUS DESIRE TO CRUSH
The coach gave us a set of 10 x 100, every third one fast. I was sleep-swimming through them all until the final fast 100, when a quarter of the way through, I was overcome with the desire to CRUSH it. I could feel the two gentleman swimmers on either side of me, who I like a lot and are a bit faster than me, and I could feel this creeping desire to want to CRUSH THEM (also code for haul some ass). Well good morning, Ego. I had some work to do. So I dug my arms in deeper, made sure the eye of my palms were positioned to push water in the most efficient direction, kicked harder and rotated my arms like a motherfucker.
I know this CRUSH-MONGER. She isn’t as bad as she sounds. She’s a lusty, quietly boisterous, focused, alive spirit, who loves playing with others and feels inspired and challenged by the energies of her playmates. I could feel the Mermen beside me working hard so I thought, what the hell—and let’s take it up a step and try to beat ‘em. Why not? Let’s be reckless, joyful, a bad-ass, a love, a brat. What I like about my internal Crusher Woman is she’s all Go-For-It-Ism without a care in hell about the outcome.
So, I used all my CRUSH, dug in, and pulled ahead (I was wearing paddles) to barely touch out my swim pals who had no idea about my intent to pulverize them.
And then I went back to swimming lazily.
A bit later, our coach showed us a bag of Twix bars, and threw down a challenge: Whoever took the fewest strokes in a 25 butterfly won a treat. (You can see our show at Seaworld!) I turned to my lane-mate, Larry and said:
”I don’t want a candy bar, but I want to win.”
He laughed. “Look who’s trash talking!”
“I’m very intent on winning,” I confirmed. It was fun to say it Just Like That. I wanted to win. I wanted to make an effort to win, to do my best, but putting it in the context of “winning” just poured “doing well” into a container. Because, nothing was on this win except a lusty desire. And connection. If I wasn’t feeling competitive, I’d be swimming away in my own detached, daydreamy world.
I gave it my best, and so did Larry. We tied. Five strokes apiece. A couple lanes over, another swimmer did five strokes as well.
Afterwards at coffee, Larry told our friends that I was trash talking him, repeating what I said.
“Oh man did I want to beat you all,” I said matter-of-factly. I kept my one crushing 100 sprint to myself, because it’s fun to have a secret.
Later on, I asked Steve, who is a beautiful, fast and very modest swimmer: “Do you ever get overcome by the desire to CRUSH your fellow swimmers?” I had no idea what he’d say. He’s not a macho man, and is a great sportsman, and never brags about his swim feats (unlike someone we know🙋🏻♀️).
“Oh yeah,” Steve said with gusto. “All the time. That’s what it’s all about. We’re not in there just to lollygag.”
I kept waiting for my husband to say something like, “Why do you ask?” but he didn’t, which delighted me. This just confirmed that CRUSHING someone in the pool was normal, but not spoken of.
What are the beautiful moments of CRUSHING IT that make you feel sassy and alive?
Here’s a photo of Larry (left), Will and me modeling Larry’s latest swimsuit styles.
(Larry and me are wearing the Bubble Suit; will, the Merman). Wouldn’t you get up at 5 am for this kind of fun?
APRIL’S SALON: FINDING BEAUTY IN A TROUBLED WORLD
STARTS APRIL 13
Can we dabble in things like Beauty when the world’s on fire? HELL YEAH. Because beauty isn’t a dabbling affair, it IS LIFE. Beauty—that which exhalts the senses and expands the mind and spirit—as a way to rouse ourselves into action, to love harder, appreciate, slow down, get new ideas, and ground ourselves in a lively world and connect with and care about each other, no matter what.
🐳 Read more about the salons here, and register here (if you sign up just for April 13, that works).
🐳 Read more about individual coaching offers here.
🐳 Listen to David Byrne’s I Know Sometimes a Man Is Wrong/Don’t Worry about the Government (Life) here
CRUSHING IT is skiing that last mogul run of the day like a champion!