Stupid noseclip. How can people swim with those claustrophobia-inducing things on? After decades of entrenched programming that tells my body to blow air out of my nose while my face is under water without giving it a single thought, losing that capability creates a chain of negative impacts that I hadn’t considered.
First of all, it’s just plain annoying to have my nose pinched off that way. I lose access to my environment. I feel closed off, making my sensory world less than it could be, which seems like such a wrong way to be. Yes, indeed, I would rather ride my bike by a recently manured field with a preggy nose than spend another minute with those vice grips of horror over my nostrils.
Next, because I can’t blow air out of my nose under water, my timing for air intake and outake gets all bungled up. I end up in a situation where I am expelling and trying to take in air as I turn my head to the side. Which raises my heartrate and makes swimming difficult instead of relaxing. So even though I am swimming along fully aware what the problem is, no amount of mental reminders to blow air out of my mouth underwater seems to do the trick. It’s very frustrating and leaves me with a sense of panic and lack of control that leads to a mild asthma attack. I guess now I have a better understanding of how some people who don’t learn to swim until they are adults feel during the swim portion of a triathlon. Truly, if swimming always felt that crappy, I’m not sure I’d ever want to do it either.
I might have lasted 4 or 5 minutes with the noseclips, but it was a long 4 or 5 minutes before I handed them off to Gary, expressing my antipathy for this new piece of swim gear. So. Anyone want to buy a pair of noseclips for cheap? Free? Oh, right. I didn’t exactly do a bang up sales job, did I? Oh well.
The good news is that my arms and shoulders are already feeling stronger. I had a good swim. About the same time and distance as last week, but it felt easier once my nose was freed to do what it was put on my face to do. Breathe.