HERE COMES THE SUN

Good Habits Are Hard to Quit

The chic can’t take the recovery, that’s what it is

Good habits are harder to quit than bad habits because they are good for you.

I’m skipping my lake swim today. Not because the water is 49 degrees. Or because I wasn’t awake on time. Or because I hate sunrises.

I’m skipping because I’m sensing I need a recovery day. My instincts are faulty in recognizing when I need recovery. I’m just guessing it’s what I need. It’s something I would advise someone else to do if I were giving good advice.

My muscles ache. They need time to heal, but I don’t want to break my rhythm. I worked hard to build the habit of swimming in a cold lake at 5:30 every morning. If I stop, will I break the spell?

I know my peeps are already down there, blowing up their buoys, lighting their lanterns, yanking on their wetsuits, velcroing closed their thermal caps, spraying Spit defogger on their goggles, clipping their buoys around their waists, awaiting the sunrise.

I could just go and sit, watch the yellow star rise with them— not even enter the water. Alternatively, I could remain sitting here, drink my coffee and think about stuff. Would that kill me? It feels like it, but why does it feel like it?

An ultrarunner once said to me, You know what’s even better than one day of recovery? Two days of recovery.

Recovery scares me because it activates my FOMO.

Why am I sitting in an office chair? Why am I not pulling on my wool hat and zipping into my parka? Why am I not desperately searching for my car keys, trying to recollect if I parked the car in the garage or on the street? Why am I not boiling water to pour into a bag to slide my feet into after my swim?

My husband says when I talk about swimming with these folks, I sound like a heroin addict.

You're all water junkies, he said, but I’m so proud of you.

That’s the main difference between a good addiction and a bad one — with good ones, you get some admiration and approval.

I’ve been watching The Mighty Ducks with my family. If you haven’t seen it, it’s about a Bad News Bear-style youth hockey team that makes it to State. Their style of practice is to have fun.

The coach, played by Emilio Estevez, has a gift for sussing out the secret skills of each misfit toy. Estevez's (Coach Bombay’s) fun creative coaching style is contrasted with the more competitive coach who only cares about winning.

Speaking as a competitive person, I recognize the errant path of putting winning ahead of joy. I’m even futilely competitive (with myself) in my lake swims, which have zero stakes other than staying alive. This is ridiculous because that’s not the vibe of the lake swimmers.

Yesterday, after I dipped into the lake, a couple of swim friends approached me. Like a racing car pit crew, they removed my wetsuit for me. They brought me a hot water bag for my feet. They cheered my swim.

This is what the lake swimmers are about. Encouragement and support —helping you get your wet clothes off so you can get warm — not swimming over one another in an effort to win.

I spoke to another swimmer who moved here from Wisconsin. She said the reason she loved lake swimmers is they are all this way. They’re the best people you’ll ever meet. They’re instantly inclusive. They don’t judge what you do in the water. They make sure you get out safely.

I’m already feeling the FOMO because in about twenty minutes, the sky will turn orange and I’ll be on the top floor of my house, clicking away on my computer.

Good habits are as hard to quit as bad habits. That’s why it’s important to remember why you started the habit in the first place.

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