If the Whale can do it, so can I!

This Saturday I woke up not wanting to swim.  I didn't want to get out of bed. It seemed like too much of a hassle.

BUT, I had promised a friend that I'd be there, and say hello.  So I got out of bed. I wasn't sure I was going to swim, as I just wasn't feeling it. BUT I put on my swimsuit, just in case.

I got to the beach, and told my friends I wasn't feeling it. I didn't think I was going to swim. I've shown up before thinking I wouldn't swim, and always did. But this time was different. I just didn't want to.

We posed for the photo.

Then, folks started getting ready. I did not.  I drank more of my hot chocolate. Then, someone yelled "Orca!".  Immediately, everyone turned toward the water-- scanning for any indication of a whale.

And there it was. Not an Orca, but a Humpback.  I watched it surface a few times. I saw the blow. It was beautiful, and swimming.

I figured, if the Whale could swim today, so could I.

So I did.

Being Present in my Body

As a larger woman, or perhaps as a woman, or perhaps as a human in today's world, it is easy to disengage with one's body.  There are so many messages about what a body supposed to be or look like, that one has two choices: spend a lot of time feeling disappointed or guilty for not reaching those goals, or disengage from one's body.

The water has so many tactile sensations, buoyancy, flow, cold, salty taste (or chlorine), particulate (hopefully not in the pool). I can feel my leg hair, the tightness of my goggles, the movement of my muscles. I hear each breath. The splash of the water.

This past weekend I listened to see if breast stroke sounds different from crawl.  The breathing and bubbles do. It is harder to tell about the sound of the water, as when one puts their head under, the sound changes.

When I get out of the water, I am present in my body. The messages about what it is supposed to look like are irrelevant.  What matters is what it feels like and what it can do.  I have an amazing body.

Swimming with the fishes-- Waikiki again, but the true on this time

The spouse and I decided to spend Thanksgiving in Hawaii. Probably the best decision I've made in a long time.  This was the view from our hotel room balcony:

That's the Waikiki harbor, with an excellent perspective for sunsets, though I think we watched all of them from the beaches.

As the swimmer that I am, the highlight of the trip was swimming with the fishes!!  Hamama State Park has a nature preserve in it with amazing coral reefs.  You take a bus out to the park, pay the $7.50 entry, watch a 9 min video on safety for you and the reefs, and then walk down a hill with this view.

And this one:

You can see the shape of the reef from above.

Blue water is sand.  The reef is the darker area. It was great to see this view of the reef, because it was a map of what I would swim through, and really helped me get my orientation.

I own snorkel gear. In part this is because I want my prescription goggles. And in part because using a snorkel that has been in someone else's mouth is ick. 

I was one of the few with a swim cap on. Combine that with the Yellow rash/sun guard, and my orange buoy and I was easy to spot while swimming!

But what really mattered was what I was spotting.

The highlight was the sea turtles.  Day one I had a turtle almost to myself for 20 min.

We had a good long conversation about turtle-y things.

But the second day, the turtle had paparazzi.

This made me sad. Although, technically, the guy was within the rules-- he was not touching the turtle-- he was awfully close. The turtle was swimming away from him. Unlike the one I'd made friends with the previous day, who was happy to eat and talk to me.

I easily spent two hours in the water each day.  When the wind would pick up, the conditions would get worse, and I'd get out for a while and hang out on the beach. It was such a pretty place, easy to spend a day.

Another highlight of the trip was the drive to the North Shore, where we watched surfers at the Bonsi Pipeline. 

And met some beach chickens.

And I drove a VW Bug Convertible.  Wow I had a hard time giving that car back.

After so much sun, and 70* ocean water, the return to Alki will be hard!

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.

Green Lake Open Water Swim Race Report 2010

GLOWS report written elsewhere, brought here for continuity, hence no photos.

Swam GLOWS (Green Lake Open Water Swim) for the second time this morning. It's a half mile open water swim with the finish about 2 blocks from my house (the start is just half a mile across the lake from that). When I swam it 2 years ago, it was my first ever open water swim, I panicked in the middle of the lake and thought I was going to drown. I somehow pushed through the panic and made it across, I was DFL for a while, but passed two people and finished third to last with a time of 22:58. My goal for today was to 1) not drown, 2) finish further up in the pack and 3) beat my time.

Training had been OK. I haven't been in a pool in months, but had been getting in the lake when the weather allowed (Yeah, I don't swim in the lake in the rain, I might get wet). My last swim had been a half mile out-and-back in the lake on Wednesday. I wore my wetsuit and was warm enough.

This morning the water temp was 64 degrees and the skies were overcast and in the 60s. I got up, had a banana, put on my suit and walked over to the lake. We met my SIL (J) and her friend L and L's daughter E. I picked up my packet which was a t-shirt a "personal best" ribbon and my number. They were using pin-on numbers this year, and body marking only folks that didn't have wetsuits.  We took the shuttle around the lake to the start and I got suited up.  My spouse kindly offered to carry gear back to the finish for us. He took a few photos and took off walking the .8 miles back to the finish when we got in the water.

The water felt cold and I was glad to have my wetsuit. It was a wet start, with the line of the docks as our "line" so we treaded water until the air horn sounded. Then I swam. Started crawl, turned back to breast, and back to crawl. Alternating as needed. I had a very hard time catching my breath, and would stop to tread and breathe, but then pant as soon as I started swimming again. I told myself "slow down, this isn't a race" then laughed, because it was, in fact, a race, but I didn't want to race it, in that way. I decided to just pant, and be ok with it. I got into a rhythm of 20 strokes breast 10 strokes crawl, repeat, and it seemed to work. About half way across the lake, I looked back to see how I was doing, and saw that I was both half way across and there were a good dozen or so people behind me. That felt good, and I was able to stay in my rhythm.

At one point, another swimmer swam across my line, and straight for a guard on a surfboard. I figured he was ending his race. Nope, just off course. The guard set him straight, which didn't last long. He proceeded to cross my line at least 8 more times. The poor guy probably swam a mile in a half mile race!

Nearing the finish I was happy to see the line come into sight. The guard boat passed, leaving a huge wake, and carrying 2 swimmers they had pulled out. I tried to ride the wave in, a bit. Finally, I felt the ground with my hands, stood and smiled. My spouse was on shore taking photos. I looked up at the finish clock and it said 22:xx, I sprinted and finished with a time of 22:27, and at least 15 people behind me, meeting all 3 of my goals!! And I had enough energy to spend the afternoon at the Pride Parade!

The spouse commented that I came out of the water much less shaky than last time, and generally I felt strong. I need to work on my front crawl, and keep increasing my distance, my goal is a 2 mile swim in the other lake on Aug 31. My SIL finished in about 15 min, her friend L just ahead of her and E just behind. E got third in her age group (15-19) which is awesome because the first OA finisher was in her age group (with a time of 10 and change).

Green Lake Open Water Swim Race Report 2015

Moving a race report written elsewhere to here. (ergo, no photos and the date stamp being wonky)

I did GLOWS (Green Lake Open Water Swim) today for the 5th or 6th time (I’m losing track). Seattle has been having a huge heat wave, highs in the 90s and lows in the high 70s.  I barely slept the night before, and woke up tired and cranky.  The water temperature was 71, so I chose to swim without my wetsuit for the first time in this event.  Last year it was so cold that they waived the “no wetsuit for award” requirement, and almost everyone was wearing one.

My cousin T was in town, so I invited her to join me.  So around 8am T, her boyfriend and my husband and I made our way down to the lake. Packet pickup was smooth, with body marking (which I usually don’t do because of the wetsuit). They wrote my number, 29, on my arm, to which my response was “how cool, they are putting our age on our arms.”

I ran into my brother sister in law and nieces. My oldest niece, M, was going to swim for her fist time (she’s 13).  My sister in law and her swimming buddy were going to pace M in the half mile then swim the full mile as their event.  We all made our way around the lake to the start in a van, and hung out for about 10 min waiting.

After last year’s event, where I couldn’t catch my breath the whole time, I was determined to warm up and not have the cold water shock me into hyperventilation. So I did about 5 min of paddling around and made sure to go fully under water three times.

Starting gun and we are off—I promptly get kicked in the side, and so drop back, let people go ahead of me, no  need to fight for space, the lake is large. About three minutes in, I’m swimming just behind my niece, I lift my head to cheer her on and she takes off. I get a good rhythm and keep stroking. I’m focused on swimming and have very little memory of what I was thinking about.  A few times I think I’m feeling so good I should pick up the pace a bit, and so I do.  I stroke hard.  I’m pretty much a breast stroker, but throw in some crawl here and there.  This morning, before heading to the lake, I’d looked up prior times and they ranged from 22:20 to 25:40.  I have no idea what my time will be like, but figure I should push it here and there.

Just as I’m passing the last large buoy (there is still one small one to go) I see a swimmer a few strokes ahead of me and contemplate trying to catch him.  I pick up the pace again. I realize I’m too far out to start a sprint to the finish, so try to go faster without it being full out sprint. It works. I don’t catch the guy, but I do close the gap. Then I look up and see the finish clock. I think that it is still under 20 min.  That seems fast for me, so I push the pace again.  As I get closer, I realize that I can beat my best time, if I just keep pushing. So I do. I swim past the buoys that mark the guarded swim area during the week, and stand up, run through knee deep water (which is pretty hard) and up the stone stairs to the finish. 21:44, a personal best!!

My husband and brother both high five me in the chute. I tear my tag and my husband greets me with a bottle of water and a towel.  My niece finished in 19 something and my cousin in 17 and change.  They are both happy and relaxed.

We watch the mile swimmers start, and watch the thunder clouds roll in.  The mile swimmers are near the turn around point when the lightening starts.  And it starts to rain.  We wait for my sister in law to finish, and then run for cover. Most swimmers say they didn’t realize it was raining. I’m glad I’m not a lifeguard responsible for the event!!

Great morning for a swim. Proud of my accomplishment. Makes me think I should push my speed a bit more, and see what I can do!

Deck Change- One piece suit for women

One of the joys of open water swimming is that you don't always have a place to change your clothes before or after. Before is easy, I've put on a suit in a car, or behind a tree. No sweat. But when you are cold and wet after, things can be harder.  Here's a tutorial for how to deck change, out of a one piece suit, if you are a woman.  Two piece suits have a similar sequence, and men's suits are easy, make a "skirt" from your towel and drop you drawers!

First step, you are in your suit, it is wet.  You take off the goggles and cap to make clothing removal and donning easier.

Then, pull the shoulder straps down, over your shoulders and into your armpits.

At this point, you can put on whatever top you want.  For me, a hoodie is always best after swimming. Keeps me warm and is easy to put on.

Now you pull your suit down as far as you can without exposing yourself to anyone.  This can be hard as the wet bathing suit can stick to your body. If you are built like me, getting it over your breasts can be a challenge. With my curves, pulling it over the belly is also a good step at this point. If you want a bra, this is your opportunity to put it on. With the sweatshirt over your shoulders, but your arms not yet in it, you can slip the bra on.

The next step is probably the hardest of all. Use your towel as a "skirt". I wrap it then roll the top.  If I were smarter, I'd get one of those towels with Velcro that we all used as cover-ups back in the 80's.  Or I'd make one.  Just haven't bothered yet. 

 Then pull your suit off, using the towel for modesty.  Yes, this can be a challenge to not drop the towel, or open it in such a way that you flash the world.  Take your time. A wet suit sticks, but you will get it off.

Now, keeping the towel as a modesty cover, pull on your pants.  My friend who shot these photos pointed out that I was showing the world that I go commando after swimming. That is true. If you want underwear, you can slip them on in this stage. I just don't bother.  Remove the towel and you are done!!

And a bonus "gear" photo. That silver circle is a changing mat from Rareform. I love this mat (and no, I don't get anything from them for saying this.) It keeps my feet dry and clean while I change. And then I put all the manky gear it in and pull the drawstring closed to make a carry case for the dirty wet gear.  Really handy AND it is made of a recycled billboard, so it has low environmental impact.

When closed it looks like this but with gear bundled inside.