You Can Rest Now

Courtesy: Eric Zimmerman

“You did it. You can rest now.”

These were the words inside of a card that my parents had written for me after I had completed my nearly 17-year swimming career. From starting out as barely being able to get all the way across the pool doing a 25 back in my summer league, to scoring in the mile five years in a row at our conference meet, swimming was something that I had always worked at as hard as possible. I always had the idea that if doing anything, 100% effort needed to be given – a mentality that transitioned well to a sport known for grueling practices. When I was younger, I was never the fastest kid on the team; I had to work as hard as possible just to keep up. By the time I had reached high school, this high level of effort had started paying dividends. I had reached my club team’s top-tier training group, something that I had dreamt of after watching my older sister swim in that group. Around this time, my coaches and I realized that distance events were my specialty and that is where my focus should be directed. In my senior year of high school, I managed to have the meet of a lifetime – I dropped gobs of time in my main events and managed to squeak past the Junior National’s cuts in the 1000 and 1650.

After this meet, I never dropped time in those main events again. While I did get close to my best time in the 500 a few times while in college and dropped in off events, I could never get back to those times I went my senior year. Despite relentlessly working in the pool and the weight room, those times felt to be a myth that was lost to the past; this grew to be a source of frustration for me. Why can’t I hold the times I used to hold with ease in practice? Why do I feel like I’m fighting through the water and not gliding through it? Why do I work so hard and see no payoff? Questions like these plagued my collegiate career and grew to be mentally exhausting and further exacerbated the issue.

This problem came to a head my junior year of college, where I had what I felt to be an embarrassingly slow mile at our conference meet. After I finished, I remember sitting on the deck sobbing and wanting to quit. I simply couldn’t handle swimming all these yards in practice, along with slogging my way through distance events just to see these massive time gains. I had a long talk with our assistant coach who told me to think about it and that I shouldn’t give up when I was so close to the end.

Not long after this, Covid reared its head, and I still swam my senior year – which felt like a never-ending season where everything was an uphill battle. I didn’t want to be at practice most days. I felt heavy in the water. I grew more mentally exhausted and fantasized of quitting. However, I pushed through and finished the season. Then, the NCAA came out with the ruling that athletes impacted by Covid could have an extra year of eligibility. I wanted to come back to school and get my Master’s degree, and I told myself that I wanted to give swimming one more shot. I realized that I was given a rare opportunity and I couldn’t squander it – this caused me to want to simply have fun with the sport like I used to. Even though I didn’t get particularly close to my old times, it was the most fun I had had with swimming in a long time. This year, I stopped obsessing over old times and just focused on what happened in the moment, along with finding joy in the small things.

Many times throughout this process, the mental exhaustion was worse than the physical exhaustion. There were countless times during practice or races that I wanted to stop and get out because I was so frustrated that I thought that I simply wasn’t what I used to be. Despite this, I pushed through. My family especially noticed how much of a toll this exhaustion had taken on me. Something that I’ll never forget is going into the stands after my last swim where I hugged my dad and could hear his voice cracking while saying “You did it. I’m so proud of you.” Even though I felt like the sport had given up on me, it was something that I refused to give up on. Deep down, I still loved the sport but was simply frustrated with it and myself.

To those who are like me and feel like they can’t do it anymore, take a step back and think about what made you fall in love with the sport. It took me a bonus year of eligibility from a pandemic to do so, but this reevaluation rekindled my love for the sport in my final year. As much as we love to hit the wall and see best times, there’s more to swimming than time drops. Being part of a team I loved, goofing off during practice, and learning a plethora of life lessons are things that I can look back on fondly forever. Knowing that I pushed through physical and mental exhaustion is something I can be proud of and lets me know that I’ll be able to push through future challenges. Now that it’s over and I can rest, I will be graduating and moving on in my life. However, I will never forget those 17 years in the pool and will look back on it with happiness and pride – something that no time gain can taint.

ABOUT ERIC ZIMMERMAN

Eric swam for Shippensburg University for five years, primarily competing in distance and mid-distance freestyle. He’ll be graduating this summer with his MBA with an accounting concentration. Eric has swum since he was five years old, starting out with the Damascus Dolphins in the Montgomery County Swim League, a team he says “taught me how to swim and love the sport.” He also swam for Rockville Montgomery Swim Club for around 10 years.