Change of Stroke

I'm a breast-stroker.  I get seasick easily, and breaststroke lets me look at a fixed point in the distance every stroke. That keeps me stable and less sick. I typically like to sit in the front seat of a car and near a window on a boat for the same reason.

During Swim Defiance, my kayaker commented that I was a lot faster when I'd do freestyle instead of breaststroke. So I've been trying to add some additional free into each workout.

This weekend, during my usual Alki swim, I decided to add in a significant amount of free. There is a group of swimmers I start with as we do head-up breaststroke and get used to the water. Then they switch over to free and leave me in the dust.

This week I was able to keep up with them with comfort.  On the way back the boat wakes picked up so I had to switch back to breast.  It makes me think if I could switch strokes more permanently, I could potentially be a more solid middle of the pack swimmer.

The plan is to work on sea-sickness prevention!

Seal!

July found me back out on the Hood Canal for work.  This time around my cohort knew I wanted to swim and all came prepared to support me.  And by prepared, I mean ready to buy drinks at the bar and watch that I didn't drown.

So swim I did.

The beach that I used last summer, attached to the retreat center, was closed, as the stairs collapsed.  So they suggested I go down the road to Alderbrook, a swank hotel and spa, and use their beach (and their fire pit, and bar!) This is the gang, on the shore, watching me.

The first night there, the gang was happy to watch the sunset, watch me swim, and have some s'mores.  The water was perfect!  Clear. Warm compared to Alki, and calm.

See how clear it is:

I swam out about a quarter of a mile. Enjoying the light as it changed, and looking at the scenery.  I've been told that one of these houses belongs to Bill Gates.

On the way back I noticed this sign on the dock. When I came back two days later there was a seaplane there!

When I got back to shore, the folks watching me swim mentioned that I'd been followed by a seal.  I was oblivious to this creature, just feet from me. When they told me that, I did turn around, and sure enough, there was a delightful creature. I talked to him for a few minutes, then got out. One of the women on shore had caught a video of him and me together, and sent it along. It is magical! I feel so lucky to have gotten this close to a seal!

What does place matter?

When I signed up for Swim Defiance 3k I knew the race capped at 300 people. I didn't realize that only 36 people would sign up, show up, and finish.

I'm a solid back of the pack swimmer. When I swim Park to Park or Green Lake there are always people behind me at the end. But with a challenging event, when I found out the smallness of the field, I realized I would likely be DFL.  The D is for Dead.  The L is for Last. You can infer the F.

I've been DFL in foot races before. I did a 7 mile trail race with 37 runners.  It was a two loop race, and I finished my first loop just before the fastest runner crossed the line.

That didn't bother me. I'd seen a red fox on the trail, which was really cool. And I knew in a field that small I'd be the last.

Another time I was last was at a 5k run in honor of a priest who was recovering from cancer.  He ran the race also. He was the penultimate finisher. I didn't feel like I could sprint to beat him at the end. It just wasn't right.

So when I found out how small the field would be for the swim, I got anxious. Would they pull me from the race because I was so slow, even though I knew I'd make the cut off (this had happened to me before)? Would people be taking down the finish line before I was done? Would I be embarrassed as everyone had already gone home when I finished?

In the end, I decided to go, knowing full well I'd likely be last.  And I was.  And it was all ok. I was ahead of everyone at home on the sofa that morning! I placed in the non-wetsuit division, which gained me major bad-ass points, just for doing it without a wetsuit. I like to joke that I got to enjoy myself longer than anyone else. The truth is, it was still a huge accomplishment.  I'm still proud of what I did. And ultimately, the only race I'm in is the one against myself. My mental battle with endurance sports. My mental race against societal norms around weight and body issues. And my own sense of self doubt.  I swim because I love my body, and that means I won the race!