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.