The world record problem: Why chasing numbers will wreck your freediving

Pavel Tsatsouline says “Training must be approached as a practice, not a workout.” In strength training, this distinction is everything. A workout implies grinding yourself into the ground until you’re spent. Practice means showing up, doing quality work, and leaving with gas in the tank. Elite powerlifters don’t test their one-rep max every session. They build capacity through thousands of sub-maximal lifts, saving the true all-out effort for competition day.

Freedivers should understand this. But most don’t.

Instead, they’re scrolling Instagram watching Alexey Molchanov drop to 136 meters, or Arnaud Jerald posting another absurd constant weight dive. Then they show up to their local training spot and try to replicate a fraction of that performance. It’s the equivalent of a recreational lifter watching Julius Maddox bench 782 pounds, then walking into the gym and loading up 405 because, hey, that’s only half of what the record holder did.

The problem isn’t using world records as inspiration. The problem is not seeing the road to get there.

What world records actually tell us

World records in freediving reveal physiological possibilities, not training blueprints. When Molchanov hits 136m CWT, what you’re seeing is:

• Decades of progressive adaptation
• Optimal genetics for the sport (lung volume, CO2 tolerance, muscle fiber composition)
• Perfect conditions (temperature, current, mental state)
• A support team that’s been refined over years

What you’re not seeing is the recovery days, the easy sessions, the technique work at comfortable depths, or the times he surfaced early because something felt off.

The bridge to your diving

Steve Magness talks about real mental toughness being the ability to respond appropriately to the situation, not just pushing harder. For freedivers, this means recognizing the massive gap between world-class performance and your current capacity-and being completely fine with it.

You know what’s actually hard? Doing a 3:30 static when you’re capable of 4:00. Staying at 25 meters when you want to push to 30. Following your training plan when your ego wants to test your limits. That takes more discipline than occasionally destroying yourself trying to hit personal bests. (This is the essence of Keep Training (Even When You Don’t Feel Like It)-showing up for the unsexy sessions.)

Look, I’m not saying don’t have ambitious goals. I’m saying your Tuesday pool session shouldn’t look like you’re going for gold at Vertical Blue. The athletes setting records understand periodization. They know when to push and when to back off. They treat 90% of their training as exactly that-training, not testing.

Concrete applications

Stop measuring yourself against world records. Hell, stop comparing yourself to your own PB from three months ago. Track your average comfortable depth, distance, or time over 20 dives, not your single best desperate attempt.

Adopt the 80% rule for regular training. If your PB is 40m, your standard training dives should hover around 30-35m. This builds capacity without constantly redlining your nervous system. You want to finish sessions feeling like you could do more, not like you barely survived.

Separate training phases from testing phases. Maybe you test your limits once every 4-6 weeks. The rest of the time? You’re building. This is where having structured programs in Appneist actually helps-it programs your easy days, your build weeks, and your peak attempts so you’re not just winging it based on how you feel (which, let’s be honest, is how most people trash themselves).

The paradox is that obsessing less over record-level performance and focusing more on consistent, progressive training is exactly how you’ll eventually post your best numbers. World records should inspire your long-term trajectory, not dictate your next dive.