When I was in elementary and high school I was a competitive swimmer. Like, seriously. I was on the same team as Summer Sanders in sixth grade, earned medals in my high school conference swim meet, and was a NISCA Academic All American my senior year.
But after high school, I just stopped. There are probably a lot of reasons (not being on a team anymore, getting involved in other interests in college, etc) but the truth is, I really missed it.
Lately, I’ve been swimming again. Since the start of May, I’ve gone three mornings a week, every week (with only two holidays and one skip-day off).
One of my favorite things about swimming is how it gives you so much time to think. While your head is underwater and your only focus is stroke-stroke-breathe, it’s easy to let your mind wander to various things.
Writing is, of course, the thing my mind wanders to most often.
Over the miles I’ve swum these past few months, one of the thoughts that keeps coming back to me is how much writing and swimming have in common. There are challenges that I face in swimming that also come with writing. There are similar rewards and also, I think, things to be learned from one that can help the other.
And so, today, I want to share some of my thoughts on how writing is like swimming.
You Have to Dive In
Dread is real. I start dreading the next morning’s swim the night before, the moment I remember that I have to get up at that ridiculous hour.
It’s even worse in the morning. The alarm goes off and I lie there, telling myself not to go. What’s the harm in missing one day?
But I know that one day leads to one week leads to when-was-the-last-time-I-swam? So I get up, get dressed, and get to the pool.
The moment I’m in the water, the dread evaporates. Maybe it’s allergic to chlorine. The moment I start down that lane, I feel euphoria.
The same thing happens with writing. Thinking about the writing, about the actual act of sitting in a chair and spewing out words, is torture. But the moment I’m in the story, the dread evaporates. Maybe it’s allergic to words, too.
Pricey Tools are Unnecessary
Swimoutlet.com is a wonderland. There are swim paddles and kickboards and fins and bags and books and fitness gadgets and… The list goes on an on.
All you actually need to swim is a swimsuit, a pair of goggles, and (if you have anything longer than a buzz cut) a cap. That’s it. Everything else is a fun, but unnecessary, toy.
There are just as many goodies you can get for writing. The special notebooks and word count tracker spreadsheets and Pomodoro timers and books on writing and online classes and pricey software and… The list goes on and on.
All you actually need to write is a way to collect thoughts (like a notebook, a stack of index cards, or a notes app on your phone) and a way to transcribe your words (like a notepad, a voice recorder, or a word processor). That’s it.
Practice Makes Faster
The more you swim and the more frequently you swim, the faster you will (probably) swim. You will get stronger, your strokes will get smoother, you will build more endurance.
The more you write and the more frequently you write, the faster you will (probably) write. You will type faster, your thoughts will flow easier, you will get out of your own way, you will ignore the inner critic.
Some Mornings are Harder than Others
One morning, recently, after I had to go out twice in the night with the puppy, woke up with a raging headache, and found day-old puppy puke in the backseat of the car at 5:30 in the morning, I was the closest I came to giving up and going back to bed.
But I didn’t. I cleaned out the puke, got in the car, and went to practice.
It took almost half my workout for the headache to leave, but eventually it did. And by the time I got out of the pool, I knew that sticking it out was the right decision.
With writing, it’s all too easy to give in to the bad days. The emotional labor is harder when all you want to do is climb back into bed. But sticking it out, even if you only get five new words, is worth it.
Being Done is the BEST Feeling
No matter how bad I feel before practice, I know that by the time I climb out of the pool I will feel like a literal superhero. I can accomplish anything. I got up early (way, way, way too early), got myself to the pool, and pwned my day. Take that, inertia!
Even though I’m giving up nearly two hours of my day (between getting dressed, driving to the pool, swimming, driving home, and getting my shower) I always get twice as much accomplished on days that I swim because of this feeling.
I feel the same way after a writing session.
Oh, I don’t necessarily feel spectacular about what I wrote. Truthfully, I usually think it’s the worst thing I’ve ever written. But I feel amazing for having written it, if that makes sense.
I have always struggled with having a regular writing practice. In the past, I’ve been a burst writer (which means I shoot out my books and stories as quickly as possible) but I know that being the slow-and-steady sort leads to less burnout and more productivity.
So I’m hoping to take what I’ve learned in re-establishing a swimming practice and apply it to my writing. And hopefully you, my wonderful readers, will reap the benefits. (i.e. More books!)
Comments