by Mike Abegg, Officials Committe Chair


Have I mastered swimming? Heck, no. I am a Masters swimmer in the same way that I am a practicing Catholic. I’ve not gotten it right, yet, but I am still practicing.

Do I swim for the competition? No, not so much. I have one National Championship medal, and one blue ribbon from an LMSC championship. In both cases, my strategy was to stay late and swim breaststroke. Both are from the last day of a meet, one of the last events, when the “real” swimmers had gone home with their stacks of medals and ribbons but I was still there.

More often than not, I’m near the bottom of the results in my events. My starts look more like I’m going to be snorkeling than racing. My open turns include long calls to my mother and and elbows to my brother that he easily escapes. My flip turns are competitive with rolling up lane lines or pool covers.

I note that I often struggle to get to the pool for a workout. It’s rare when my swim is my top priority for the day. I dislike swimming early in the morning, in the cold, in the rain, in a crowded lane, or when I’ve forgotten my “good” goggles.

So why do I swim? I swim because I feel good after I have done a solid workout. I swim because you can’t race a triathlon if you don’t swim. (“There is no Du, there is only Tri” in the words of my favorite swim Jedi.) I swim because my feet hurt after I run, and someday I know running and bicycling will no longer be options.

In short, I swim because I can. I swim for myself, but also for those who can’t. Those who can’t find a pool or unpolluted lake. Those told they should never be seen in public in a swimsuit. Those told that “people like them” don’t swim. Those who fear the water. If they can see me, in all my ingloriousness, as a swimmer, then maybe they can see themselves as swimmers, too.

I am a Masters swimmer.

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