I had a major breakthrough on my crawl stroke on Saturday night. I had been struggling with it for at least four summers, but as hard as I tried and as much as I practiced, I still couldn't do but a length or two without huffing and puffing. I even took lessons a few years ago. That helped a lot, but I could still tell it wasn't coming together. I figured I was doomed to eternal breastroke. Fine by me because I love swimming breaststroke, but it's still annoying to suck at something for that long.
I wasn't feeling well Saturday and I didn't really want to swim anyway, so I was going very slowly and taking it easy. And then it totally clicked how everything was supposed to go, and I did lap after lap without stopping or even breathing very hard.
It turns out I just had been working way too hard at it. I would dearly love to claim that as some sort of metaphor for all the other areas of my life, but the truth is I'm lazy as shit and would probably starve to death if I did.