can find himself mentioned and discussed in the Arts section article of the New York Times. It takes a renaissance man to be such coach… and deservedly Earl Walton gets co-mingled in “Triathlon Training with Chopin” with Chopin, Czerny, and Homer.
Here is one beautiful quote:
“Watch someone who is at home in the water, or comfortable running or biking, and the activity seems perfectly natural; there is no excess movement; nothing is jarring or out of place. It is as if the human body had been made for these activities. A swimmer’s body can plow the waves like some Homeric vessel guided by the gods.
In actuality, though, can anything be more unnatural? Free-style swimming is devised for movement through an alien element. Ordinarily we are not aware of our breathing; in swimming, breathing is the determining factor. The movements of the arms and body are designed so that the mouth can regularly be raised above the water’s surface without disturbing forward thrust. Bicycling is also pretty unnatural: what animal moves by leaning over and moving the feet in tight circles? Watch a beginner — watch me — and the peculiarities are obvious. The beginner demonstrates the unnaturalness of it all, the perversity of the enterprise.
Part of the appeal of watching races is that we see that perversity overcome. The unnatural becomes natural, the difficult turns simple. The motion eventually makes sense. It feels as elegant as it looks. I know this, too, from the piano: is anything less natural than moving individual fingers up and down or arms from side to side to create music?
Practice is partly physical training: teaching the body to feel comfortable with the artifice and its intricacy. Ultimately, the playing must seem effortless; all the tension, the strain, the struggle must be dramatized in the music, not in the body. And when I have practiced enough, I no longer have to be aware of every minute finger motion or position of my elbow. Movements mold themselves into phrases, becoming supple and poised. My body’s once uncoordinated parts cohere; the body can be forgotten.”