How was practice?

This is a question that I ask twice a day every day.

"Fine."

Ugh. Doesn't he know that I need more than, "Fine" to complete my analysis. How's he feeling? What's he thinking? Is his body holding up? Is he where he needs to be right now? Is he confident?

I could go on forever.

When my eyes glaze over and turn my head slightly to the right as I crinkle my forehead, Mark always knows that I am off somewhere deep in my thoughts. When I get this look on my face he often says, "The horse is dead, quit beating it."

I am a thinker and "Fine" does nothing to help me feel at peace.

When Mark has an exceptionally good practice he does come home and tell me all about it. These are some of my favorite days. Not only because I want him to swim fast for us, for his paycheck or for any other reason to satisfy the pressure, but also because he beams light after a good practice. He tells me how he "whooped up" on the younger college swimmers. He'll say things like "Old Man River's still got it..." Yes, this may sound a little egotistical, but at this point in the game-after being a professional swimmer (something that is not easy at any point but especially not heading into your third Olympic cycle when you are the oldest in your event and your knees and shoulders are starting to feel 'squeeky') for so long- I am thrilled for him to feel like he is on top of the world and his game.

Not that good practices are rare, but full disclosure about practice is rare. Though I wait for this disclosure and hope for it every evening, I typically have to be okay with, "Fine."