Wikiki Beach Swim- Labor Day 2018

For something like ten or so years now (we debate this often) I've gone away with the same group of friends.  We rent a house somewhere, and spend a weekend together, playing games, day drinking, exploring the area, walking, hiking, and, most importantly, swimming. 

This year was no different.  The group choose the Long Beach Peninsula for our getaway, and that meant a lot of time on the Pacific coast.

On Sunday, my friend D and I went in search of a spot to swim.  An open-water-swim friend had given me intelligence that swimming near the Coast Guard station at Cape Disappointment would not disappoint (see what I did there?). However, times have changed, and we were unable to get anywhere near the Coast Guard station, and were, therefore disappointed. Another friend who was with us suggested that "Wikiki Beach" which is also in the park, ought to be a good place to swim, or it wouldn't have that name. Of course, the more well known Wikiki is known for surf, not swim.

So we arrived at the water and found this:

That's my 6-foot plus friend standing in the surf.  I'm not a big-surf kinda gal so was apprehensive, but he was able to get past the breakers and still be only waist deep, so I decided to give it a go as well.

Wikiki beach is a narrow strip of beach. Not a lot of space to enter the water, but once in, there is a long breakwater to swim parallel to.

Getting past the breakers was my challenge. D found the water cold, but I thought it was pleasant (lots of Alki time helped with this). For the first few min of the swim, the current was clearly pushing us back toward the shore.  It also, however, was pushing us toward the rock wall to our left.  D and I had a conversation about the current, and safety, where we could bail in an emergency.  I mentioned that I thought the rocks on the Jetty, though sharper, would be easier to climb out on than the cliffs on the other side.  D said he wasn't too fond of either choice.

I mention this because, as an experienced open water swimmer, I'm always monitoring my surroundings and ensuring I have a plan in place in case I am unable to get out of the water where I have planned.  When I swim at Alki, I watch the beach so that I know where I am, and where the easy exit points are (part of the beach has seawall, with periodic stairs for exit). I haven't, yet, needed to use a "plan B" but it is part of being safe and aware of my surroundings.

We swam for a while and stopped to take a few photos.  One of the joys of the selfie in the water is that one really never knows how they are going to come out. It is so hard to see the screen in bright sun, with fogged up goggles that I just have faith that I got something.  So here's what I got:

Me, lighthouse behind

D and me. 

Shortly after the selfies, since I noticed we'd drifted toward the rock wall, I suggested we swim parallel to shore, and get closer to the Jetty. Then we could turn and swim out along the Jetty. We did. The water was amazing. Clean, salty, but not too salty. There wasn't much visibility, nor was there much flotsam in the water. There were a bunch of people fishing from the Jetty, so I have to believe there were fish.

Shortly after we turned, to swim out, parallel to the Jetty, I noticed the current was with us, pushing us further from shore.  D noticed as well, and commented on this to me.  I immediately suggested we turn back to the beach.

I've had a rule for myself in open water swimming.  The rule is that if I am thinking "Should I do X or Y" the answer is ALWAYS whatever the safer choice is.  So in this case, when the choice was swim further or turn around.  Turning around was the safer choice, and we did that. If I had been in water I knew better, the current might not have been enough to get me to turn. But this wasn't familiar water, or familiar conditions. And safety is always the right answer.

Shortly after turning around, D commented to me that he wasn't sure we were making any progress.  I pointed to a fisherman on the jetty with a bright orange jacket on.  I suggested he swim 25 strokes and notice where the fisherman was after.  Sure enough, we made progress in those strokes and could see that.  This is a technique that I'm always using to judge speed in the water, relative to shore.  Currents are strong and not always predictable.  When there is a clear spot to sight off of, and get a sense of pace, it is helpful for monitoring progress and safety. 

After about five minutes of hard, into the current swimming, it was clear that we were back in the area where the current was pushing us toward shore.  We got to body surf back in.

All smiles after the swim

 Folks on shore commented that they couldn't believe we were swimming where we were.  D commented that he was worried for a few min, and glad I knew the technique to monitor our progress.

This comment from D brought up interesting reflections for me.  D has always been a better athlete than I am.  But he isn't necessarily, in any given year, in good swim shape.  The prior year, when we'd swum in the Columbia River, I'd suggested to him that he tell me when to turn around, as I was at the peak of my swim shape.  I hadn't thought that through this year.  This swim was, likely, more ambitious than he knew he was getting into.  I need to remember that I'm in better than average swim shape. Since I swim with so many swimming superstars, it can be hard to remember that I'm still really strong.  My swim friends set a high bar.

For future Labor Day trips, I'll want to set swim goals that are more moderate for me, rather than a push for me, so that they are more accessible to D.  In the end though, I'm proud of us for doing it, and glad I/we made the safe choice all along.

Park to Park Report, '18

The Park to Park is a 1.4 mile swim across Lake Washington.  I've done it '10, '11, '12. '13, '14 '16 and '17. '15 I took off because of a back injury. The first year, this event was a big goal event, that I spent a lot of time preparing for and training for.

The event has evolved over the years.  In the beginning we swam in heats by estimated pace, we had our numbers counted off by a human as we entered and left the water. Instead of buoys, there was a boat parked mid-channel to sight off of. The finish had a few balloons, that were hard to see until you were at them. Now the event is chip timed, a mass start, and a row of numbered buoys to help you count down your finish. The finish line even has a bright flashing light that you can see from all the way across the lake, which makes sighting much easier.

The mass start is always a bit stressful. I held back to start at the back of the pack, both so I wouldn't have people swimming over me, and so I could pass people, which is less frustrating than being passed.

The water felt cold to me. Clearly warmer than Puget Sound. But I never actually felt warm, the whole swim.  I started out breast stroke, and quickly turned over to free.  Free is faster, breast is more comfortable and easier.  I breathe better with breast. I also take up more room in the water, which when swimming in a group, is not ideal.  Free is harder to sight. There are trade offs all around.

The course had 5 buoys, with numbers that counted down as you swam. It was good for gauging how far out you were.

My mind flitted on various things as I swam. Friends, work, swimming, family, random memories, songs. Here are some of my observations (in no particular order):

• I tried to remember my first year of swimming.  I knew I swam in '10 but couldn't remember if I'd done '09 too.  I knew I'd done '10 because I wrote about it in my letter to the immigration office when applying for my spouse's immigration. It was an example of our closeness, that he would get up early in the morning to watch me swim across a lake. And that I was close enough to him that I had him help me change when I was shivering after.
• I thought about some of my other years swimming. The year the waves were giant being the most memorable.
• I realized I was swimming a lot more free than I ever have.  I estimate 60/40 free/breast.
• I thought about how lucky I am to live in a city with this type of access to water.
• I reflected on air quality. Seattle has been going through a period of great smokiness due to regional wildfires.  The hospital that hosts the swim considered canceling due to air quality.  Prior to the event I had thought that the smoke would not bother me while swimming. However, this was the first time in the history of my swimming that I ever got a side stitch.  I'm guessing that was due to reduced oxygen intake.
• The wisdom is "nothing new on race day".  I put on a new suit in the morning, then reminded myself of this and changed into an older suit.  However, I also took some anti-fog spray when it was offered to me. A brand I had never used before. Mistake. My right eye burned so bad that I had to take off the goggles, rinse them, rinse my eye, and put them back on, twice.

In the end, I finished faster than I have before.  My past times have been between an hour and 6 min and an hour and 15 min (the year of the bad wind).  This year's time: 

1:02!!!

AND that was with a short rest break in the middle of the lake to try to release the side stitch.  Next year, I'm going for under an hour!!

Oh, and one last thing that has changed with this event is the number of people I know who swim it.  In the beginning I just knew my sister-in-law and her friend.  Now I have my own swim friendship group to see.  Here's a before pic of a few of us:

You can tell we are friends, because we make the same gestures when we finish:

Carrie:

Me:

And the crew after:

Park to Park swim 2010

Here's the "race report" I wrote for the 2010 Park to Park, which was before this blog.  I've pasted it from another source, to keep my log here consistant.

Park to Park 1.4 Mile Open Water Swim
August 29, 2010

This was my big goal race for the summer. I started training with open water swimming as soon as the lake was warm enough (back in April or so). 6:30 am felt early when my sister-in-law (J) and her friend L showed up downstairs. Driving to the start, we laughed about how crazy and idea this was. It was about 50* and windy at the start. After body marking, a trip to the bathroom, I suited up, dropped my drop bag on the bus and headed to the start.  I was in the first and slowest wave (yellow caps). J and L were slated to start 12 min behind me in their orange caps. 

I checked in for the swim with the checkers, gave my number, stepped into the chute, and waded into the water.  They described the course--- see that beach across the lake? Swim there. Keep the sailboat on your right, and then look for the yellow buoys that mark the finish. The water was 69 or 70 degrees, so felt all right, especially compared to the 50* air. I got water into my suit, to avoid the shock when I started to swim. They counted down, and we were off.  As we left, the white swim-caps were lining up behind us.

As usual, between adrenaline and starting too fast, within about 3 minutes I couldn't catch my breath.  Usually I'll tread/float until I can breathe, then start to swim again. However, the mill-foil (seaweed) was so thick that I couldn't put my legs down to float without getting tangled. I switched between breast and crawl, looking for my comfort spot.

Eventually, I caught my breath and got a rhythm. I did crawl for about 20 strokes, would do 2 of breast (to look where I was going) and return to crawl.  Within about 7 minutes (all times estimated, I didn't wear  a watch) the first white-capped swimmer passed me.   As I got closer to the sailboat, the waves picked up.  The swells were about 2 feet and I had to breathe on my left side (weaker side) in order to not get a face full of water every breath.  Then I started getting seasick.  Seriously, out in the middle of the lake, the motion sickness kicked in.  I switched to breast, took a few breaths above water, and the sickness went away. Back to crawl, back to sick. Back to breast, I'm ok.  Guess I'll stick with breast.  A few more times, throughout the swim, I'd try crawl, and within 4 strokes start to feel sick.  I had a moment of imagining what it would be like to puke in a swim race (I've only done it once in a running race) and committed to swimming across the whole lake breaststroke.

There is something amazing about being out in a body of water that big. In a depth well over your head, far enough from shore that you are really part of the water, not just a visitor in the water. I felt the waves, and instead of fighting them, worked to swim with them. I relaxed, and had fun.

Just as I was feeling all proud of myself for my "at one with the water" moment, the first dark-blue-capped swimmer passed me. This was the last (and fastest) group.  Talk about "at one with the water"- this swimmer cut a neat straight line through the water, fast and direct.  Beautiful.

Three quarters of the way across, I could see the finish. The two yellow buoys to swim between.  I could see camera-flashes on the shore--there were people waiting!  I started to feel hungry and decided I wanted to go to brunch, the Sunlight Café, and order the Euripides as my post-swim meal.   I imagined my BF on the shore, camera in hand, waiting for me.  He'd told me about 12 times the night before to be safe and that he loves me and to be safe.  It was cute, but I also knew he was looking for me, hoping I'd come in safe.

I was drifting south so a kayaker herded me further north. He commented on how horrible the conditions were for swimming today. I thanked him for being out there in the kayak, and mentioned that I was breaststroking because the waves were making me motion sick.  He laughed and said he could imagine they would.

As I passed the yellow buoys marking the finish channel, I thought "home free."  And was immediately swept to the north by a strong rip-tide.  Turing south, I powered into  and across the current, lest I get swept into the moored boats. For about 3 minutes I didn't feel like I was making any progress, then I broke through it.  It was so unfair to have the hardest 25 yards of the swim in the last 50 yards.  I put my head down and saw milfoil again.  I'd hated it at the beginning,  but was so happy to see it now. A sign that the water was getting shallow and I was close to shore.

The swimmer in front of me stood up--- I powered to her spot and stood as well.  My legs happy to take purchase on solid ground.  BF was there, camera and towel in hand. As were my brother, sister-in-law and friend (they'd finished a few minutes ahead of me).  My friend T said I took about 65 minutes, which was exactly what I'd predicted. I was proud of that time, swimming in worse conditions and far more breaststroke than I'd imagined. 

Would I do it again?  In a heartbeat!!  Usually in running races I have a moment where I think "why the *&^% do I do this?"  In this swim, I just had fun, the whole time.  I expected a sense of accomplishment. I didn't expect it to be so fun!

Home and showered, we went out to the Sunlight for a Euripides and it was everything I imagined it would be.  I'm happy and proud.

Book Review- Spineless

A Science Instructor friend of mine recommended this book, Spineless, but Juli Berwald. I have to say I LOVED it!

I love jellyfish. I enjoy watching them when I swim. They are fascinating. The moon jellies can be so perfectly symmetrical, while also being almost invisible. I love the lacing around the edges.  The "fried egg" jellies are beautiful in their own way as well. Often looking more messy, but still amazing.

In Spineless, Berwald combines personal memoir as she learns about jellies, and follows them around the world, with science of the jellies, including how they reproduce, how their neurological systems work, and what environmental impact they have.

Jellyfish are often feared. People worry about being stung.  And, as Berwald discusses, there are jellies whose sting can kill.  But most don't. They may provide discomfort or pain. Some you can't feel at all. She discusses what purpose the stings have, and how the venom and singing mechanism can be used in medical applications.

Berwald travels to the East China Sea in search of giant jellies. Her stories of the people she meets are almost as intriguing as the jellyfish she sees. Thorough out the book, she adds details about herself and other people that make it more than a super dry scientific narrative.  She science she shares is contextualized in practical applications.

I recommend this book. It is an easy read, and good for anyone who loves the ocean and the jellies who live there.

things I like about Alki

Alki beach has become my happy place. This little stretch of shore, some sandy, some seawall, is a place I always know I'll leave happier and more relaxed than I was when I came.  This photo shows the beach. In the middle, that red-roofed building, is our beloved bath house. The place where the Notorious Alki Swimmers meet up. We usually swim toward the lighthouse (to the right in this photo) but, if the currents are strong as the tide goes out, we will swim along the sandy beach (to the left in this photo).

What I like about Alki is that everyone uses the park for the things that bring them joy. Walking up to the park on any given day you will see all sorts of recreational activities.

These folks do a slow movement activity that I'm guessing is Thai Chi. They always seem to have different levels of skill, and I love that they use this space to learn.

Little kids love the beach.  The sight of toddlers throwing rocks, chasing seagulls, and watching the waves is common. Alki is a family friendly place.

Speaking of family friendly, every week as we gather for our swim, there is a group of parents and kids working out.  The kids are in strollers and are involved in the workout with songs and other games. 

I respect anyone who is open to exercise and doing things that make their body happy.  I do admit, I think these folks look a little weird.  What I love about that, though, is that I'm certain they think we are weird too.  Weirdness is accepted, all around.

And speaking of weird.... this is my friend, Erin.  She's one of the things I love about Alki as well.  Getting into cold water is much easier when you are laughing.

Observer's Report- Mercer Island Marathon Swim

On Friday morning 11 swimmers and a gaggle of support crew assembled in Luther Burbank Park to attempt the Mercer Island Marathon Swim. Mercer Island is in the middle of Lake Washington, approximately 20k in circumference, and is basically suburban Seattle.  Folks, like Paul Allen, with a lot of money and a desire to be close to the city live here. Many with boats. The swim goes clockwise around the island. This was the second year of the swim.

I was assigned Jessie Harewicz, a swimmer from Vancovuer, BC, as my swimmer to observe.

I'd never been a swim official before, but it was easy to get the hang of.  The role was to:

1. make sure everyone, swimmer and crew, stayed safe.
2. ensure the swimmer followed the official rules of the swim.
3. document the swim to verify that the swimmer completes it unassisted.

The swim rules are pretty basic. The gear is a bathing-suit, goggles and swim cap (ear and nose plugs as well as sunscreen and anti-chaffing balm are permitted).  The swimmer needs to complete the course without any assistance in flotation or forward movement. If she needs to rest, she must float or tread water. Touching the support boats is not permitted.

The documentation was also straight forward. I was given a blank template to fill out every 30 min.  It included location (GPS would be nice, but I just used landmarks), weather-- especially things that would impact the swim like wind, stroke rate for the swimmer, nutrition for the swimmer, and anything about the swimmer's mental cognition or physical condition that was worthy of note. I added a few notes on what we were seeing, since her head was down through the whole swim.  It then serves both the purpose of official documentation, and of being a journal for the swimmer. The final log looked like this:

I also got to spend the day in a boat with a guy I don't know.  His boat is a little ski boat that he mostly uses to take his 10 year old twin sons out skiing on.  So there is no cabin.  Which, of course means no bathroom. More on that later.

The day was rainy and overcast, temperatures around 15-18*C. The water was a touch warmer, the Lake Bouy reading 19*. We gathered at Luther Burbank Park at 7am for an 8am start.  There were over 50 people involved between swimmers, race staff, observers, kayak support and boat captains. The pre-swim time was a combination of transactional, getting stuff ready, and social, reuniting with old friend and people who would be friends by the end of the day.

Every participant got a number on their hand, to match that of their swimmer, to help keep us together in teams.

Swimmers who live in various places but have bonded at other major swims, reunited and caught up on swims past and future.

There was also tons of gear to pack into each boat.  Food for the swimmer and the crew for a whole day, as well as safety gear including a "Caution Swimmers" sign, extra water, and the GPS systems for tracking and communication (also known as our cell phones).

The start was a wet start, the swimmers dove in, gathered behind the starting line (imaginary, between two buoys) and at the sound of "go" started swimming. I also started the timer on my cell phone, as the official time keeper for Jessi.

Here she is, diving in:

It is hard to describe something that both had nothing happen for hours and also was very nuanced every moment. As an Observer I did observe the whole 8 hours and 21 min.  I kept Jessi in my sight for the entire day.  While she did all the work, swimming and swimming and swimming. I gained a lot of respect for her and learned a ton about her without even talking to her all that much. I know that her right arm makes more splash than her left and that she kicks very little. I know that she almost never takes a break or switches stroke. I know that she has a competitive streak, even when the competition is among already very accomplished swimmers. I know she likes PB&J for her swimming snacks. The relationship is both very remote and very intimate. You really learn someone's character from watching them accomplish and endurance feat like this.

The day in the boat was both exciting and tedious.  The captain and I had conversations that were rambling and general as well as ones that were serious and reflective.  We had a cell phone text-message thread with the other observers, so would hear some chatter about what was going on. We also used that thread to give warnings about other boats, like the Argosy Cruise boat that came through.

One of the funnier threads, was about bathrooms. The race director had flagged four spots on the map where there were parks with public facilities. As the front pack of swimmers got to one, they did a mass stop off on shore to use the bathroom. The text message thread was full of potty humor. The observer from one of the boats with a head posted to the thread about how they had a flusher, and it was heated!  We all got jealous.  Apparently, the team boat behind me (with a head) had a conversation about how those of us without heads would go.  About 10 min after that, they saw me sit on the swim step and splash myself.  One said to another, "Oh, I guess I get it now".

From my perspective, it was a day on the lake, with the great bonus of watching a crew of amazing athletes in a sport I'm growing to love.

Race Report: Green Lake Open Water Swim (again) 2018

Green Lake Open Water Swim (GLOWS) was my first open water swim event, and has become a family tradition.  My Sister-In-Law swam it long before I did (well, by "long" I mean a few years, it hasn't been going on that long) and now my nieces swim it. (Earlier Race Reports, 2010, 2012, 2007)

GLOWS is a family friendly event with a choice of the half mile (one way) or the mile (round trip) in a small protected (if a bit dirty) lake in the middle of north Seattle.

The first time I did GLOWS, I panicked in the water. I was training for a triathlon and between the cold shock and the adrenaline I had a hard time recovering my breathing. I remember thinking, in the middle of the lake, "this is how a strong swimmer drowns".

Now, with a lot of open water swimming under my belt, the half mile distance seems "cute" and compared to Alki, Green Lake is not cold at all!! I guess this is a sign of improvement.

The nieces were doing the half mile, and my sister-in-law was going to swim with the younger one.  The older one is a lifeguard now, so she was on her own. I arrived just as they were getting on the shuttle, wished them luck and went to get my gear and find my brother.

We watched the half mile swimmers get closer and closer, until we could spot the family. All swimming together and looking strong. After cheering them to the finish, and glowing like the proud auntie that I am, I got my cap and goggles on and got ready for my swim. I told the spouse to expect me in about 45 min, and that I might be the last finisher.  In my mind I thought 42 min was more likely, but I didn't want to be embarrassed if I was slower.

The water felt great. About half way through the swim the sun came out and turned it into a glorious day.  I got my rhythm pretty quickly. One of my goals was to increase my front crawl as a percent of my swimming. I'm usually a breast stroker. So I bounced back and forth between the two strokes.  As a right side breather, with the buoys on the left, sighting was hard. With breast, you can sight every stroke. Not so for crawl. I'll need to work on sighting in crawl if I'm going to get serious about it as a stroke.

As the pack spread out, I found myself just behind a woman in a shorty wet-suit with a pink cap on (not the green cap handed out by the event). She and I were amazingly well paced with each other. She'd pull ahead a tiny bit when I'd switch strokes, but I pretty much kept in her bubbles the whole way. I may Facebook stalk her and see if we can swim together in the lakes some time.

I felt great the whole swim.  I noticed the lead swimmers coming back when I was more than half way across. And saw the last swimmer behind me when I was well past the turning point. I spent some time singing and some time just reflecting on how lucky I am to have a body that can swim, and live in a culture that promotes this type of community activities, keeps its bodies of water reasonably clean, and makes it safe for participation.

As I got near the end, I considered working to pass the woman I'd been swimming with. But decided I didn't need a full sprint to the finish, so finished at a steady pace, and with her about 20 seconds ahead of me.  The biggest shocker was the time clock when I finished. 37:40.  Even faster than my hoped for fast finish time!  My confidence and speed today let me see that I really am an intermediate open water
swimmer.