Having blogged for a decade plus, I run the risk of repeating myself. But maybe you’ll forgive me if I come clean about it.
In September, 2018, I started a post titled “What We Get Wrong About Honesty” this way:
That it’s mostly telling the truth to others. But being honest with one’s self is a more essential starting point, and because we lack any semblance of objectivity, far more difficult.
None of us are ever completely honest with ourselves.
Especially as a writer, I want to be more honest with myself, and by extension, my readers. I suspect that starts with more honest internal dialogues.
My older sissy said something seemingly innocuous to me awhile back, that I can’t stop replaying in my head. I was telling her I want to really improve my freestyle swimming, but it’s hard given the years of imperfect muscle memory. I explained that I had checked a book out of the library that broke the freestyle stroke down and had watched lots of youtube vids.
I thought I had made a convincing case that I wanted to improve, I for sure had convinced myself, but when I came up for air, she offered this brutally matter-of-fact reply, “No, you don’t.”
Staggered by her honesty, I forget what came after that.
As soon as I regained my footing, I realized she was right. My efforts to improve were superficial at best. I hadn’t worked with a coach. I hadn’t used video. I hadn’t committed to the drills that help improve one’s catch.
Despite saying I want to improve, my elbows still drop, I still slap the water, and I don’t rotate nearly enough. My stroke is a mess, but that’s not the point. The point is, with no coach, with no video, with no commitment to drills and going slower to eventually go faster, I should stop lying to myself about wanting to improve. I should just accept that my stroke will always suck.
Of course, my shite freestyle doesn’t matter, at all, but the all important question raised by my sister’s “No, you don’t” is what else am I lying to myself about? Surely, lots of stuff of far more consequence.
I may never have high elbows, but can I learn to be more honest with myself, and by extension, you? I don’t know. But I think I’ll try. Just don’t tell my sister.
Pressing Pause 
Concerning swimming stroke style, the Japanese swimmers rule that realm. During my 1-year sabbatical back in the States, I dutifully drove my wife to an early-morning Masters class. Once I stood on the poolside with the coach. She remarked that my Japanese wife’s strokes were picture-perfect, but said that was often what was the problem of the Japanese swimmers who favored rule over substance.
Yeah, I don’t think of Japan as a swimming hotbed, but interesting that their technique is so good. “They” always say it’s technique + volume.
Japan has been a swimming hotbed, but the teachers are so strict about getting the style down just right that not surprisingly some students drop out. Maybe there’s no correlation, but Japanese swimming at the international level has been in an extended doldrum for a number of years.
My wife enrolled in a swimming school eight years ago. Interestingly, she prefers the butterfly.