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Human bodies and bodies of water go together perfectly. But only if the body of water is a Jacuzzi. In all other cases, the two are wholly incompatible.

I learned this first-hand.

I had been running quite contentedly for years until I started dating (and ultimately married) Anne, an IronMan triathlete. I quickly became intrigued by this sport of hers—triathlon. By all accounts, triathlon seemed a perfect way to up the ante on my running passion. And Anne was happy to facilitate my enthusiasm.

So in January 2011, she plopped me into the LifeTime Fitness lap pool and told me to swim fifty meters so that she could assess my stroke. And I was happy to facilitate Anne’s enthusiasm.

Or, at least, I would’ve been…had I been able to swim fifty meters.

But alas, I splashed, churned, chugged and sputtered—my hips scraping along the pool bottom—for perhaps twelve meters before I had to stop and stand-up because my heart and lungs had taken residence in my throat. The rest of our swim session only got worse.

Yes…Swimming was clearly going to be an obstacle in my quest to humiliate Craig Alexander. And in fact, swimming proved to be one of the most difficult and frustrating challenges I’ve ever undertaken. Ask Anne or any of my Facebook friends. I’ve been quite vocal in my misery.

A year and a half have passed since Anne first tried to kill me in the pool, and things have gotten better. I’m still not a great swimmer, but I did improve enough to complete Ironman Kansas 70.3 in June 2012. And funnily enough, the swim in Kansas seemed the easiest part of my day.

So, I’d like to pass on some thoughts, tips, observations and musings that I’ve amassed while swimming a very steep and difficult learning curve.

I may not be an expert swimmer. But I *am* an expert on being a beginning swimmer.

1. Get a Swim Coach! Really, this is priority one. The swimming that we learned as kids at the YMCA bears no resemblance to the swimming that is required for triathlon success. You will likely need to break a lifetime of bad habits and *completely* re-learn how to swim. A swim coach will get you there in the quickest and least frustrating way possible. And here’s the good news. A couple hours of pool time with a swim coach need not be a large investment—especially when compared to a Kestrel Airfoil.

2. Never Underestimate the Value of YouTube. It’s more than just water skiing squirrels. Every conceivable swimming question, problem, drill or lesson is addressed many times over on YouTube. Want to generate more power from your pull? A swim coach from Tokyo has an instructional video on YouTube. Having trouble mastering front-quadrant swimming? A swim coach from Uzbekistan has an instructional video on YouTube. Can’t get the hang of a two-beat kick? Seriously…go to YouTube. It’s an amazingly deep resource.

3. Keep Your Eye *OFF* the Big Picture. Learning to swim is the anatomical equivalent of herding cats. Far too many body parts need to engage in far too many coordinated movements that feel far too unnatural. Chin down…neck straight…eyes looking down…blow bubbles…press chest…turn head…one goggle in the water…bilateral breathing…lead with elbow…relax hand…don’t cross center line…rotate core…don’t bend pelvis…kick from hips…relax those ankles…CALGON, TAKE ME AWAY! Until you’ve achieved “muscle memory”—which, by the way, takes a bloody long time and a lot of practice—you can’t possibly keep it all straight in your head. So do yourself a favor. Don’t. When swimming a pool length, focus your attention on *just one* element of your swim stroke. Do it right, do it well, then focus on a different element. Sooner or later, it will all feel like second nature.

4. Drill, Baby, Drill! This goes hand-in-hand with the tip #3. Any swim coach, book, magazine or YouTube video can provide you with countless different swim drills. Pick a good one that focuses on a weakness in your stroke (in my case, it was balance), drill the hell out of it, then move on to another. Drilling is dreadfully dull, but you’ll thank yourself in the end.

5. Consider Splurging on a Total Immersion Seminar. No, I’m not on the Total Immersion (TI) payroll…but I am a believer. The two-day TI seminar that I attended last Winter completely turned my swimming around. TI is not everyone’s cup of tea, so do your due diligence on YouTube…then decide for yourself.

6. Get an Underwater Video Camera. The swordfish-like swimmer in your mind’s eye likely bears scant resemblance to reality. Have a friend record your swim stroke underwater, then sit back and enjoy the show. You’ll be amazed at all the blatant mistakes you didn’t realize you were making—which you can *now* start to correct. Knowledge is power, my friends.

7. Catch Your Breath. I spent months stubbornly breathing on every third stroke…and consistently gassing-out within fifty meters. It wasn’t until I swallowed my pride and started breathing on every second stroke that I started seeing significant distance gains. Bottom line: I simply needed more oxygen. You may, too. So breathe when you need to breathe (just be sure to do so bilaterally). And don’t worry about building lung capacity. It will come with time and experience.

8. Rejoice The Small, Incremental Gains! They come in dribs, they come in drabs. Oftentimes, they seem few and far between. But every now and then, you’ll have an “Ah ha!” moment in the pool. Perhaps you’ll discover, quite by accident, that tucking your chin this way or lifting your elbow that way feels kinda right. It’s usually something small. But these things add up. When you stumble upon a small, incremental gain, write it down and do it again next time.

9. Solicit, Solicit, Solicit! Swim with many different people. Encourage each one to critique your stroke. Keep the useful advice; discard the rest. Even average swimmers can offer above average observations.

10. Tiiiiiiiiime Is On My Side. Yes, it is! It takes a long time to become a good swimmer. It could take years. So, be patient. Your goal should not be, “I want to be a good swimmer.” It should be, “I want to be a better swimmer.” Go back and re-read tip #8.

11. Don’t Quit! We are, after all, triathletes.

Meatballs in hoagies.
Meatballs on pasta.
Meatball perogies.
Meatballs…ya basta!

Big, bad Tony Soprano.
Has no bloody idea.
That the finest of meatballs.
Are all found in IKEA.

A tomato-based salsa.
Might, to some, seem a dream.
But the best meatball sauce.
Contains fresh dill and cream.

And a true meatball master.
Much to many’s surprise.
Is eleven feet tall.
With blonde hair and blue eyes.

So, next time in your kitchen.
Embrace your inner Sven.
Fry some bra Swedish Meatballs.
Stockholm Syndrome’s your friend.

Ummm, hi. Remember me?

There was a time–seems like a thousand years ago–that I was living in Spain and blogging on a daily basis. This blog racked up hundreds of posts over a period of a couple years. It was easy to do. I was living in a foreign country and immersed in an interesting culture. Largely in isolation, with nothing to do but observe carefully, sharpen my wit on an oil stone and reduce the lot into a pithy 1,000 words for the benefit of a couple hundred indulgent (and highly valued) readers. It was all very satisfying, fun and therapeutic.

When I moved back to the US in 2008, it all stopped. Life in that joint is far too busy. Too hectic. Too exhausting. When the body and mind get tired, the first thing to go is the capacity for creative thought. It’s true.

Other interests took over and competed for those precious-few morsels of time and energy. I can say with absolute certainty that it’s much easier to run 18 miles than it is to sit down and write a respectable 1,000 word blog post. The 18 miles nearly always won.

Plus, the world changed. Blogging–which so quickly and completely enraptured millions of keyboard warriors around the globe–suddenly became a dinosaur. Facebook took over and asked the question, “Who needs 1,000 words when you can get away with 250 characters?”

I, too, fell victim to its charms. Instead of spending ninety minutes carefully crafting a blog post that I could be proud of, I’d bang out a Facebook status update that I could be proud of in literally ninety seconds.

Although when Twitter appeared to save those poor souls that viewed 250 characters as the equivalent of an IronMan triathlon, I drew the line.

So…what’s the point of today’s post–the first post in nearly a year? Well, it’s three things.

Number one, I happen to be sitting in a hotel room in Spain at this very moment…with nothing to do. When I think “Spain” and “nothing to do,” I immediately thing “blog!”

Number two, I saw an uncle over the weekend that I haven’t seen in years. And he spent a few Scotch-induced minutes lamenting the death–or, at least, the hiberation–of Sal’s Virtual Tapas Bar. I could do nothing more than agree…and lament mightily myself.

And number three, I got married last weekend. It was something that I never thought I would do again. It was also something that I couldn’t imagine NOT doing with this woman. Blogging is a very narcissistic endeavor. The average blogger has to believe–rightly or wrongly–that the rest of the world gives a rat’s ass about him, his life, this thoughts and his opinions. Oftentimes this belief is misplaced. The best bloggers–through sheer hard work and hard editing–make this belief a reality. Regardless of which to those two camps I fall into, Sal’s Virtual Tapas Bar forced you to hear about a happy marriage, a fallen marriage, a long, solitary walk through the woods, a difficult parting of the ways with the country of Spain, and then three years of near-total silence. Oh yeah…and how NOT to build a smoker out of a flower pot.

I feel that I owe this update to the VTB.

And, so…I am pleased to announce to the Blogosphere that I’m married to Anne Elbaor, and I couldn’t be happier.

This was fun. I’ll be back.

THE FINO COCKTAIL

2 oz. light rum

1/2 oz. Simple Syrup

1/2 oz. Blue Curacao

1 dash Fee Brothers Orange Bitters

Silver Dollar-sized Lime peel

Step 1: Add rum, Simple Syrup, Blue Curacao and Bitters to a shaker.

Step 2: Add abundant ice to shaker, stir until ice cold and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Step 3: Twist lime peel over drink to float the oils, and discard.

Step 4: Drink, purr and make love. That’s what Fino would do.

Note: To make Simple Syrup, add 1 c. sugar to 1 c. boiling water. Off heat, stir until sugar is completely dissolved, cool and refrigerate.

“Mommy [i.e., my ex-wife] doesn’t like boys with muscles. So, I don’t know why she married you.”

I got mentioned in the Telegraph.

NONNIE’S FUCAZZO

1 Boboli Pizza Crust

2 Large Onions

5 oz. Tomato Sauce (just eyeball it)

Oil-cured Black Olives (remove pits)

Anchovies

Fresh Parsely

Fresh Basil

Chopped Green Chiles (Jalapeno or Serrano)

Goat Cheese (optional)

Salt & Pepper

Extra Virgen Olive Oil

Step 1:  Saute onion in some olive oil until soft and translucent.

Step 2:  Add salt, pepper and tomato sauce to onions.  Let simmer a few minutes.

Step 3:  Brush Boboli with olive oil.

Step 4:  Spread onion mixture onto Boboli, leaving a 1 inch border.

Step 5:  Arrange anchovies, chiles, olives and dollops of goat cheese atop of onions.

Step 6: Place directly on bottom rack of 450F oven and bake for 12 minutes.

Step 7:  Remove from oven.  Drizzle with extra virgen olive oil and top with fresh herbs.