The Great Chesapeake Bay Swim 2011

Yesterday morning, the forecast was for a hot and humid day with a high of 90 degrees F. The water temp in the bay was 78 degrees F and the 20th Annual Great Chesapeake Bay swim was going to be the hottest one ever on record. Oh boy.

All the swimmers came into Sandy Point State Park, making their way toward registration. Two of my teammates and my friend Maura would be doing the swim for the first time.

Yesterday was my third.

We checked in and got our packets which had our timing chips for our ankles, our swim caps and race numbers.

Then they mark the race numbers on our arms and hands so if we die out there, they can figure out who we are and who to call with the bad news...Of course, we've already signed a waiver that says if we die, no one is responsible but our own stupid selves.

There were 10 of us from the Central Maryland YMCA Masters doing the swim this year.

It's always great to have a team of people to share tips and knowledge about the race. Luckily, we found a bit of shady real estate along with the 660 other swimmers...all huddled under the 12 trees of "forest" near the beach.

There are two bridges that span the 4.4 mile crossing of the Chesapeake Bay.

The goal is to swim from the beach, between the two bridges and stay there for the majority of the race. If, at any point, you pass underneath either of the two bridges, you are disqualified and the Coast Guard picks you up. No arguments. No second chances.

Toward the end of the swim, we cross back under the far bridge and swim to a beach on the opposite shore. It's a fairly straightforward swim except for the current in the big main channel. That's the tough part.

Luckily we have a coach to give us strategies for swimming the course and to answer any questions.

This is when the first-timers are thinking..."Now, why am I doing this?" I remember having that same thought.

So I came prepared with just the right antidote to that nervous anxiety. Miracle Bubbles.

And War Paint. War Paint make you feel stronger and tougher and faster....

Next, we put on Body Glide...it's used to protect the skin from abrasion from the wetsuit after swimming for multiple hours. Can you tell which part of Maura's body typically gets sore from her wetsuit?

And my BNF (blogging needle friend), Judy had sent me a four-leaf clover that she had found for good luck. Thank you Judy! I stuck it in my swim cap and it helped me many times along my way...

And our friend Laurie was there to cheer us on and help us to get into our rubber sausage casings.

I mean...wetsuits.

In fact, because of the high air and water temperatures this day, the big decision was whether or not to wear a wetsuit.

Many swimmers chose not to.

Though we had never experienced this warm of a race day, neither one of us felt comfortable not wearing it -- it gives a lot of buoyancy to your body making you glide more easily through the water.

It does, however, make you hot. After all, it's meant to be worn in cold water conditions... So we drank a lot of water, put on our wetsuits, kissed our friends and family, and headed out...

To the beach...

And the starting line...

Where we took sight of the buoys we would have to swim through to get in between the two bridges.

And we were off.

And we left behind all the advice...all our friends...our water...our sunscreen...

For the next 2.5 to 3.5 hours, it's just a long swim. And you have no idea how well your friends are doing until it's all over.

For me, it was by far the hardest of my three swims.

I'm not sure exactly why.

Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was because I'm heavier and less in shape than I was two years ago, or maybe it was the current in the Big Bad Channel that did me in.

The Big Bad Channel almost kicked my butt. As I started across, I was already dangerously close to the South span and the current was threatening to push me under the far bridge which would disqualify me. So I swam harder than I've had to swim before...in a horizontal direction, trying to fight the current and stay moving forward.

By the time I got through there, I was exhausted. And I wasn't even halfway. I felt nauseous and spent and I still had a loooong way to go.

So I closed my eyes...and drew energy from all your well wishes...from the shamrock in my cap...and from this man who I knew was waiting for me on the opposite shore.

He was also my camera man. Didn't he do a good job?

Anyway, I kept wondering if I could actually pass out while swimming? And how long would it take the Coast Guard to pick me up if I did? Then I put those thoughts out of my head and kept going...telling myself I couldn't faint until I got to Jimmy. Funny, the thoughts that come to you in the middle of torture.

Meanwhile, Maura won her fight in the Big Bad Channel and was having an awesome swim.

This is what you look like when you come out of the water feeling awesome!

And this is what you look like when you come out of the water, looking for your husband and ready to pass out...

It's not pretty, I know.

Not all days can be good ones. And not all posts can be pretty.

But I guess, when it's all said and done, of the three Bay swims I've done, I think I learned the most from this one.

1. I learned that next race I need to be in much better shape so that I can choose not to wear a wetsuit if it's too hot.
2. I learned that I need to be in much better shape period.
3. I learned that I shouldn't get lackadaisical about my race strategy or my training just because I've done a race before. I think I was a little too laid back this time...
4. I learned that I really loved my husband and he was really who I wanted to see when I was feeling so bad. The only other time I felt that way was when I was in labor having Jack.
5. I learned that having four leaf clovers in your swim cap, and emails and cards from your friends really do work when you need them to...
6. I learned that it's not really about whether or not it was a good swim or a bad swim...what it's really about is getting off the couch, putting on your war paint, and just showing up.
7. I learned that having friends who have awesome days helps to wipe out my bad ones. And, last but not least...
8. I learned that War Paint works.

Today, the pain and torture of yesterday's swim is beginning to fade...and good memories are surfacing, erasing the bad. Just like in childbirth.

I guess that means I'm going to do it again.

Tomorrow, I'm back to stitching. Notwithstanding two sore arms and shoulders.

Thanks to everyone who wished me luck. I used it!

Great Chesapeake Bay Swim 2009

This past Saturday, I once again went down to the Bay Bridge to participate in the Great Chesapeake Bay Bridge Swim --


But this year was a little different...

That's because Jack, my 12-year old son had decided to attempt the one-mile Bay Swim for the first time ever. Jack is a pretty good swimmer but he hasn't swum on a swim team in years so we decided to do it together -- and we'd been practicing -- a little...

The morning dawned beautifully for a swim in the Chesapeake Bay and the day started out perfectly...with me embarrassing Jack in public.


It's my full-time job and I take it seriously...(Oh happy day! My deodorant was working!)

My very great friend and neighbor, Kathleen, was also swimming the event with her daughter, Colleen, so we all rode down together on the Bay Bus aka our car.


Kathleen gave me this sushi swimsuit this year for my birthday.


It helps me swim really really fast...and yes, sure, I'm comfortable baring my belly on this public blogcast...

This was the first time for Jack to swim an open water swim so it was the first time for wearing a wet suit too. Here we are ready to roll...

Primed and Proud of coming from a long ancestry of coneheads...


Now, Jack and I had discussed the swim course. The fact that people would beat him over the head with their arms, swim over top of him, make a bunch of turbulence so he couldn't see where he was going (and, yes, he still wanted to do it...) --

So, our plan was to count five seconds and let everyone else go first and get all the splashing and turbulence out of the way. We had a PLAN and we even REHEARSED it ~ me counting to five seconds while he stood there and rolled his eyes...

OK, so it was time for us to get into the water...

Jack says, "Uhhhhhh, what's the course again, Mom?"


"Swim to the right of the channel marker and make a right turn at the fifth buoy -- then look for the next buoy, take another right and head for the big balloon and the crowd on the shore." (Notice I hadn't put on my goggles yet...)


"Oh, hey look, there's Daddy...smile for the camera, Jack!!"


"Oh no, here she goes again...get me outta here..." (Jack exits stage right.)


"OK, Jack. Come back. I promise. I'll be good. Just wave to Daddy."


And then the buzzer sounded and everyone started swimming! Except for me, because I hadn't pulled down my goggles yet! And, hey, wait a minute, Jack didn't wait to count for five seconds...


He was off like a shot -- swimming for dear life in an all-out 50-meter sprint pace -- Where the heck was he?


And then, all goofing aside, I started to worry and I swam as hard as I could. But I had to stop often and look up and even take off my fogged-up goggles to try and see where he was. I was an anxious wreck....and my heart was beating triple time. What if this freaked him out? What if he got pulled under by the Superman Swimming Warrior who plows through everyone in his path to win first place??


So, I sprinted/swam and stopped/looked and finally caught up to him at the Big Turn which was about halfway through the race.

Luckily, he was getting tired and had started to slow down because he had started off the race too strong. BUT, he wasn't struggling -- he wasn't dying -- he was doing great!

I completely relaxed after that. My breathing came under control. I had no trouble keeping track of him, I touched him every now and then to make sure he didn't get away, and we were able to swim together all the way to the finish line.


I got really choked up at one point when I thought of him out there fighting the current, the other swimmers, and himself, to finish the race. I was proud of him because he was doing it!! And it was really cool that we were doing it together...OK, enough of that mushy stuff...

"Where the @#$* is the finish line?"


And then we swam for home.


And this...This is my favorite picture of the day.


As he exited the water, the crowd on the shore was cheering and he loved it. 42 minutes after he started swimming, he was back on the shore, drinking a Sierra Mist...


Breakfast of Champions. (I don't buy them at home. They stunt your growth. And God knows it's working, because Jack is 5'9"! No growth stunting in my house, no sirree)

I adore the Potomac Paddlers who volunteer every year to patrol the waters and keep all the swimmers safe. I especially love it when they cluster around the last few swimmers and help bring them into shore.


My swimming friend, Anneliese, won first in her age group at 50 years old! Doesn't she look great? She's an amazing swimmer and left her walker on the sidelines to claim her prize. Sorry, Anneliese, I do love you...


And, as we headed back home across that beautiful bridge,


We were already making plans for next year. It's a great event and I'm so glad Jack got to experience it.

And many thanks to my husband Jim, the handsome Photographer, without whom this story would not have been possible. xoxo.

Lake Placid Ironman 2008

This past weekend was an unforgettable experience.


Lake Placid is absolutely beautiful with lakes, rivers, mountains and waterfalls. This lake is Mirror Lake and it's where the swim part of the Ironman was held. This picture shows what the town looked like when we drove in on Friday night.

It never looked like this again until the morning we left.

Why?

Rain. Steady, constant, torrential, soaked-to-your-bones, RAIN. I've never seen anything like it for a race. Usually, you can get rain for part of the day but this rain was relentless, switching from outright downpour to steady, heavy rain. The townspeople said they hadn't seen it rain like that for about 10 years...

My swimteam friends and I went up to volunteer in handing out water, gatorade and sustenance on the run and bike course. Here's the best picture I could find to show you what we looked like volunteering. The only difference is that we wore our wetsuits, swimcaps and goggles as a joke. It worked! We made an awful lot of tired athletes laugh. One said that he wished he had worn his wetsuit on the bike... (I'll show a pic of that when I get one.)

And here's another picture of the athletes on the run...


It was such a shame. Isn't enough to have to swim 2.5 miles, bike 112 miles and run a marathon? Then to have to do it in the pouring rain for 13 hours straight? UGH. They were amazing, honestly. It was truly a triumph-of-the-human-spirit kind of day and the athletes rose to the occasion.


Here are my two friends Maura and Laurie before the race start. Five years ago they were Moms just like you and me who decided to start running. Then they decided to try their first sprint triathlon. Then the rest is history. They ran the entire marathon together and finished in 13 hours and 20 minutes. They are an incredible inspiration. The one on the left has five children (the six year olds are twins.) The one on the right has three.

This is how they were every time I saw them that day. Excited and soaking it all in. There were around 40 of us including family and friends all in bright yellow t-shirts that day to cheer them on.

Here's the swim start. It's a "mass start" where all 2,000 athetes start the swim at the same time. Can you still see them?

How about now?

After the swim start, the rain started and it never let up until about 10:30 pm. That when the athletes who really need support are entering the finish line area and it's after dark. They've been on the course since 7am and they're beyond exhaustion.

Here's what I learned:

1. No matter how miserable we were as spectators...when we made an effort to make the athletes smile, it made us smile and made the whole day better for everyone. In other words, when life gives you downpours, make sunshine.
2. Most of the people coming into the finish line after 10pm were in their 40s, some in their 50s and a handful in their 60s. These were my people. They were me. I'm 43. They were my age and they were doing it. The young ones finished early.
   
3. I felt each weary bone in their bodies. Those that were limping and stumbling, I screamed and willed with all my might for them to make it across the finish line. They did. Our cheering helped them stand up straighter and put the next foot forward when their will was gone.
4. I watched worried/excited children waiting for their Mommy or Dad near the finish line so they could run down the last 100 ft holding their hands. The longer they waited, the more worried they got. When they finally saw their Mom and Dad, their joy was indescribable -- both parents and child! Unbelievable. I cried at every one.
5. I witnessed determination like I've never seen it before. I saw myself reflected in each face and they made me believe in myself through their experience. We are capable of so much more than we think...we just need to take the risk.
   

Bottom line. I didn't dry out for 24 hours. My eyes were puffy from crying. My voice was gone. I felt like I had birthed 500 babies and I hadn't even done the race!

I'm not sure whether I'll ever do an Ironman but I will never say never. My friends have taught me that.

It was a miserable day that was made glorious through sheer will and determination.

I'm so glad I was there for it.