Swimming through the Lockdown

I've been working from home for nine weeks now, and my state has been on a "Stay at Home" order for almost as long. Pools are closed. And I'm antsy. To add to the difficulty, the main bridge between my house and Alki beach, where I swim in the Sound, is closed for repairs, indefinitely.  So I head to my little local lake- Green Lake.

This little, 5k circumference, lake, is about 60* now. I swim from the Rec Center to the Bathhouse and back, an approximately one mile route. At 60* I swim skin and have a few observations from my swims.

Sixty is cold enough to get chilled, but not cold enough to go numb. So I continue to feel cold through the whole swim. However, I re-warm after far faster than I do in the sub 50* Puget Sound.

There is a lot less interesting to watch in the fresh water lake than there is in the salt water Sound. No seals or sea lions. No crabs or starfish. I did see a turtle. And often see large fish.

And the most important thing I've noticed, swimming in Green Lake.... It makes me happy. It may not be Alki surrounded by friends, but a good hard swim makes the day better regardless.

Awakening the dolphin

Last night I went to an amazing panel discussion on women in open water swimming. It was, appropriately, called "Awakening the Dolphin Within".

Four of my incredibly talented and accomplished swim buddies served on a panel to discuss everything from training plans to how to pee while swimming. It was sponsored by Guila of Say Yes To Life swims.

The super cool aspect of this panel was that, even though I know these women, swim with them, and rewarm with them over donuts on a regular basis, I learned a ton and was inspired by their stories.

They spoke of training plans.  The hours they put in.  For an English Channel crossing, Melissa trained 35 hours a week. That's a full time job! Learning to understand what pain was "back off" pain and what pain was "suck it up cupcake" pain was important. From this I can take away two things.  One, I never want to swim the English Channel (this is not news). And two, I can learn when to push through pain.  I'd been reflecting on this question even prior to the panel. My sprained ankle back in September left me in a boot for 10 days, and with severe atrophy of muscles and weakening of my ankles and knees after.  I'm in physical therapy now to correct the issues. I've realized that I tend to respond to any pain with 100% rest.  I plan to talk to my physical therapist about when I should be doing active rest, or even pushing against the pain.

They spoke of bodily functions and swimming.  One of my most viewed pages in this blog is the one about peeing in the pool. I didn't realize, until this panel, that some folks struggle to pee while swimming. This has never been an issue for me.  There was also a discussion of #2 and of menstruation and sea life.  I did learn that it is better to have people see you poo than to get pulled for stomach cramps. AND blood and pee are the same to sea life, so if you can pee while swimming, you shouldn't sweat your period.

They spoke of the ways that swimming helps with depression.  I don't want to tell someone else's story about this topic. I do agree that sometimes, the water is the only place that the world make sense.  Major stresses can be solved by a good swim.

For me there wasn't a call to action, so much as a pointing out of how lazy I sometimes am about my workouts. If I were to push a bit harder, what could I accomplish?  This has especially been on my mind this week because I did a mile in the pool on Tuesday.  It took me about 8 min longer than I expected.  This is a huge slowdown.  And I want to get back to the speed I believe I can swim-- or even faster.  To do so, I'll need to work harder.  To swim faster you have to swim faster. It may be time to kick back into "training" mode.

I'm glad I spent my evening with these lovely and accomplished ladies. It woke up my dolphin!

I'll post the video when it is available.

Viadoom Swim/Walk

Usually I swim with the Notorious Alki Swimmers for my weekend swim.  As the name implies, we swim at Alki beach. Seattle is now, in the midst of "Viadoom" while, for three weeks, the Alaska Way Viaduct is closed and the replacement tunnel is not yet open.  I'll skip the politics of this in this forum, but suffice it to say, the impact on traffic, city wide, is anticipated to be significant.

I usually take the viaduct to Alki (or home) and so planned to meet up with a few north-end swimmers at Golden Gardens instead.  Three of us showed up on a beautiful, sunny, flat day.  The water was clear, and the sun was out. I almost worried about sunburn!

Golden Gardens is known for having a bit of a current as you swim around the point. I'd done it many times before and, although I'd felt the current, it had never been an issue.  Until this time.

I also have a new toy (I'll post on that soon) that is a GPS and gives me real-time auditory feedback on my pace. This ended up being very helpful, and a great safety tool, in this situation.

As I got used to the temperature, and started getting into my pace, the GPS was telling me that my "laps", which I'd set to 50 meters, were about 1:09 to 1:25.  I knew this was fast for me, but since I usually swim in a yards pool, it was hard to track how fast.  The swim was easy. I was watching the beautiful sand and sea floor. I had a goal of about a  mile, but after 650, the other two swimmers were coming back, so I turned around with them.

The next lap jumped from 1:20 to 2:20 then to 4:20. I wasn't sure, since the GPS is new to me, if this was a sign of the current, or of the GPS malfunctioning. You can see the change in pace around lap 11 here:

Either way, I decided that it was safer to start swimming towards shore, so I'd be closer in if I needed to bail.  This was a good idea.  It took me minutes to get near shore. And then, the current was pushing me so hard that my slowest 50 m was over 5 min! I got close it to shore and started to walk, in shoulder deep water, to see if I could get free from the current.  I couldn't.  But I tried for a few min.  I realized I was making no progress, so I got out, and walked back to my gear. My friends met me half way back with my shoes and towel. You can see my route here:

Notice that the color of the line is an indication of pace.  The green is faster than the blue. The darker the blue, the slower I was going.  Basically, from the turn around spot, I dramatically slowed down.

What did I learn from all this?  

First, swimming with friends is a good idea, I knew they were watching out for me and aware of where I was.  

Second, the GPS ended up being a real safety device. I wasn't sure I'd like the every 50 m updates, but in this case, it highlighted for me much quicker than I would have noticed alone, that my pace had dropped dramatically. 

Third, the habit of swimming parallel to shore is a smart one. I knew if I couldn't break the current, I would be able to turn around and swim across and with it to shore. Another safe choice.

Finally, once again, I got into an uncomfortable situation and got myself out of it safely.  As I push my limits swimming, I need to also balance that with swimming safely. This was a good test of my response intuition and I'm proud of how I responded. I never felt unsafe. I was confident the whole time that I knew what to do.  That was a good learning experience.

And really finally, there is no shame in walking.  I don't regret it. And I still think of this as a fabulous swim. Every swim teaches me something new.  This one was about current, and planning.

New Year Swim- 2019

People like to spend New Year's day doing something fun, unusual, or signficant.  New Year's 2000 (Y2K-- remember when we worried about that?) I started a 5 mile run at midnight. The motto was "Y2K can keep computers from running, but it can't keep us from running", but probably phrased in a catchier way.

As has become my habit, this year was started with a wonderful swim at Alki with the Notorious Alki Swimmers.  We had large turnout. Bigger than a usual weekend swim.

This is my fourth winter swimming at Alki. I have made wonderful friends along the way.

I'm not one to make resolutions. I gave up the diet mindset years ago. And in general I eat healthy and am not one to overspend. I also have realized that setting mile goals for a year can lead to injury.

At the same time, my goal from however many years ago, when I started this blog, was only accomplished when I joined a community.  This year, if I make it to spring, it will be accomplished four-fold.

Thank you to this wonderful community for helping me get there. And Happy 2019 to all!

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.

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.

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.

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.

Beauty and Reclaiming Time

This morning I was getting dressed in the locker room at the gym after my swim.  Two women were putting on makeup at the mirrors. One said to the other "what would happen if we were naturally beautiful."

I did a double take, then had to speak up. "You ARE naturally beautiful" I said. They agreed, laughed, and then went into a long conversation about how bad it is to have blonde eyelashes. They talked about mascara, tinting, extensions, weighing the pros and cons of each.

I wanted to scream.

You are naturally beautiful! Blonde eyelashes aren't bad or good, they just are! 

And really, how hard do we as women need to work to find something we hate about our bodies.  Eyelash color? Seriously? How inconsequential.

What would happen if we looked in the mirror every morning. Said "hey, beautiful". And moved on with our day? We could save 15 (or more) min a day, an hour and 45 min a week, 7 and a half hours a month-- almost a whole workday-- or 91.7 hours a year-- almost four whole days!!

What would you do with four found days? Probably not worry about the color of your eyelashes.

Let's see ourselves for the natural beauties we are, and spend those four days celebrating our bodies.

Thoughts about synchro and training

My synchro beginners series ended in November. Since then, we've been practicing with whoever can coach us on any given day.  However, with the new year starting, we have a new commitment to training, and the coaches have worked out a schedule with us.  S*** just got real!

Now practices are 2 hours long, include a lot of drilling, and some very specific coaching on skills.  There are, so far, three of us beginners who want to go on to compete, and we are talking about going to two invitational meets this spring, to get practice with competitions.

I've committed to synchro for this season, and am looking forward to the intensity of training, learning something new, and getting to be on a team.  It has been about a decade since I last seriously trained for an event, and I love the discipline of it.  I know this is going to be a hard path. Although I was worried about if training would take the joy out of swimming last year, it didn't. And I think that the training will be part of the joy of synchro!

This past week we were working on front layout to pike, and I was able to do it.  I hadn't been able to do it on prior attempts.  Seeing progress is fun.

In no time, we will be looking like this:

Swimming and Leadership

Facebook's "On This Day" feature reminded me of a blog post I wrote a few years back that was an intersection of leadership and swimming. I was faculty in a Higher Education Leadership program at the time, and we were blogging about "everyday leadership."  The post is below:

Persistence and Leadership: A Story of an Epic Swim

September 25, 2014 · School of Applied Leadership

-Written By Dr. Rebecca 

This weekend I completed the longest swim of my life. It was about 2.5 miles (swim distances are never precise, as you never swim a straight line) as I circumnavigated Seward Park in Seattle. Seward Park, for those of you not from Seattle, is a city park that is a peninsula in Lake Washington. You can park your car, enter the water on the North side of the peninsula, swim for two and a half miles and exit the water on the south side of the peninsula, about 100 yards from your car. This makes it ideal for a long swim, as you can stay close to shore, never backtrack, and swim long.

As I swam this weekend, I reflected on how my swim was a metaphor for leadership:

Sometimes it isn’t about Precision, it is about Forward Motion

I love to swim and found a passion for open water swimming about four years ago. The ability to just walk into a body of water and swim wherever I want, gives me freedom. I’m not a fan of chlorine or flip-turns, but with Lake Washington always free and always open, I can swim as far as I want whenever I want. Open water swimming also de-emphasizes precision and stroke. An open water swimmer has to breathe on the side where the waves don’t hit her in the face. And she needs to lift her eyes every few strokes to ensure she is on track. An open water swimmer doesn’t have a line on the bottom of the pool to follow, so she needs to forge her own path through the openness.

Sometimes, as a leader, the focus on precision and clear paths keeps us from making forward progress. Leading by going where the water is calmer, can be beneficial, if otherwise the waves would keep you from getting there.

The greatest accomplishments are the ones we are not sure we will achieve.

The first mile of my swim was out of a cove and into the wind. The waves were strong and the wind was heavy. It was one of the most hard-fought swims I’ve ever done. I would look at a landmark on shore and think there was no way I’d ever get there. Then I’d swim and swim and swim, and only make it part of the way. I’d have to take a breath, and keep going. Eventually I’d get there. Then I’d pick the next landmark goal. Many times during this first mile, I wanted to give up. Many times I was truly unsure I’d make it. I knew I always had the option to swim to shore, climb out, and walk back to my car. This wasn’t something I wanted to do, but it was an option. When I finished the swim, I looked back on that first mile and the doubts I had. It make the victory of completion that much sweeter.

As a leader, doing something you know how to do is easy. True leadership skills are proven when accomplishing something you are unsure how to do.

Achievement is a Mental Game

The swim got hard at times. Not just the fight against the wind of the first mile, but the fatigue of two solid hours of swimming. The motion sickness from mild dehydration coupled with the motion of boat wakes. The goggle headache from two hours of suction around my eyes. It was physically uncomfortable. There were times I just wanted to quit. But I didn’t. When I got tired or uncomfortable I refocused myself. Reminded myself of the goal. Gave myself a pep-talk about persistence and accomplishment. And kept swimming.

Leadership, similarly, can be a mental game. As a leader you not only have to motivate yourself, but your team to keep moving toward the goal. Projects can get uncomfortable, but with a reminder of the outcome, and a refocusing of the team, you can get there.

Dr. Cory is an associate professor and the associate program director for Higher Education and Adult Learning at CityU’s School of Applied Leadership

Proud to know them

One of the amazing things about the folks I swim with every weekend, the Notorious Alki Swimmers, is the diversity of skill sets and interests among us.

And yet we all love swimming in the Sound.

Three of these swimmers earned the title "Notorious" in the past week with amazing feats of endurance swimming. I am so proud to know them.

First, Melissa. Melissa swam the English Channel.  Yes. That is right.  She did this:

That's 41 MILES of swimming, in just under 17 hours. Seriously, that is a distance most people don't want to DRIVE. And she did it all, according to Channel Rules, with just a swimsuit, cap, and goggles, and with no forward motion help from her escort boat.

I watched her progress on her on-line tracker the whole way, and was cheering for her at every step.  Go read her blog post, she can describe it better than I can.  But let's just say she rocks.

Then there is Jerome and Lauren.  Jerome and Lauren swam 10.5 miles from Bremmerton to West Seattle. Jerome is the first man to complete this historic route, created by Amy Hiland in 1959. Only three women, other than Amy (and including Lauren) have completed this swim.

I was delighted to be at Alki for the end of Jerome and Lauren's swim.

And here's the thing about all three of these superstars.  They are kind, down-to-earth folks.  They support all the other swimmers and don't let their super powers go to their heads.  I'm really honored and proud to know all three of them.

What a difference two years makes!

Facebook has that delightful feature where they remind you what you posted on this day in years past.  Here's one of mine for today, from two years ago.

That's me. In a swim cap, googles, and a wet suit.  In front of the "Open Water Swimming Permitted" sign at Lake Washington. My caption says "let the season begin! easy half mile in lake Washington"

Two years ago I was still wearing a wet suit.

Two years ago I was swimming mostly in Lake Washington.

Two years ago May 9th was my "season opener".

Two years ago I could swim half a mile.

Now I swim "skin" and haven't worn the wet suit in 18 months.

Now I swim mostly in Puget Sound.

Now I swim year round, so there is no season opener.

Now an "easy" swim is a mile, or more.

It is always fun to see progress.  This is a great example of how far I've come!

Intermediate Swimmer

I couldn't make my usual weekend swim at Alki, but a stranger had posted on Facebook that she wanted to swim at Greenlake, so we arranged a meet-up. Turns out although she's a really experienced open water swimmer, this was her first time in water under 60 degrees.

Her desire and instinct was to run in and run out, so she never warmed up. I encouraged her to stay in and use her motion to generate heat to warm up.  She wasn't wearing ear plugs, and I suggested that they would help keep her warmer.  We had other chats about acclimatization and how to increase your cold water endurance and how to rewarm after (bath not shower, get the wet suit off as fast as possible, etc).

At the end, her spouse thanked me for sharing my wisdom on the topic.

Two years of experience with Puget Sound meas I've learned enough to teach others. I think this makes me a solid, intermediate, swimmer. I still have a lot to learn to be "expert" but it is fun to feel out of the "novice" category.

Will training ruin my love of swimming?

For the past two years, and many summers prior, I've swum for fun.  I swim when I want. Stop when I'm tired. Skip it if the weather is bad or there is some other tempting event to go to. My swimming was purely recreational.  Although I often did a "race" or two each summer, I never worried about my finish time and my longest event was 1.4 miles.  Since my typical Lake Washington swim was 1 mile, it wasn't hard to push on that day.

Now I'm contemplating putting together a summer swim "season" with two events that will challenge me-- a 1.5 mile swim in salt water and a 5k swim in the lake.  The first will challenge me in conditions, the second in distance.

The idea of doing a 5k swim is a bit daunting. I would actually have to focus on training for that. As I've been researching what the training would look like, I realize I'll have to commit to a lot more time in the water. This may mean earlier mornings or swimming later in the day, neither of which are ideal.

So this raises the question-- is training going to suck the fun out of swimming? And if so, do I not even want to sign on?

The plan right now is to ease into the training, and see how I feel, before signing up for any event. If I continue to like the ramp up and formal training in about a month, I will pay my fees for the "big" events.

Body Image and Bathing Suits

I've posted a lot of photos of myself in a swimsuit or wetsuit here on this blog.

So you probably all have a sense of what I look like. One of the things that swimming, and this blog, (and possibly being in my 40's and maybe having a good F-off Fairy) have done for me is given me an "I don't care" attitude about being photographed in my bathing suit.

I look at these photos and generally think "that was a great swim".  I'm focused on how much swimming helps me love my body. When I saw this meme, I thought "YES, that's it!!"

When I swim I remember who I am.  I get to absolute pleasure of feeling the power of my body move me through the water. I get the playful feeling of buoyancy lifting me off the ground. I get to be an orca.  I get the feel of the water on my skin. I get to sense the changes in temperature, in wave motion, in smell. Swimming helps me love my body and all it can do.

During a recent group swim, I heard one of the other swimmers refuse to be photographed in her bathing suit without a cover-up.  This made me sad.  Swimming is about celebrating my body.  Rejoicing in its strength. Enjoying the sensuality of the water.  Any photo taken just documents that joyful experience. Nothing could make me happier.

Swan Swim

It is amazing how my emotions change over the course of a few hours.  Even though I swam the night before, I had a swim scheduled for last night, so wanted to complete it.  I spent the day at work looking forward to it, but by the time I got home, I was tired and less sure.  By the time I got to the lake, the wind had picked up, and standing around was cold.  I almost went home. I waded into the water (without my wetsuit) and the water felt cold.  Again, I almost went home.  I stood, thigh deep in the water for a good 3 or 4 min.  Then finally said to myself, "What are you waiting for." With a laugh, I answered, "August, when the water warms up" and plunged into the water.

The waves were strong from the wind.  And blowing, as they often do, towards the north west. So I knew my standard out-and-back swim was going to be much harder on the way back.  I figured I'd take it easy for the out, and go short, then turn and hammer into the waves and wind.

Again with my prescription goggles, I could see EVERYTHING.  One of the things that this new prescription gives me is much better depth perception (to the point that one rider in my car commented that my driving was off the first week with the new glasses). Everything looks like a 3-D movie to me-- hyper clear and deep.  That included the underwater views.  I felt like I was in a 3-D movie of space, with things floating in front of my face.  Though there typcially isn't milfoil in space.

At one point, I thought I saw a dead fish floating near me in the water.  I swam away as fast as I could, totally skeeved out.  Then, as I paddled further, I realized that "fish" was most likely the reflection of my hands below the water on the surface of the water.  Nothing like being creeped out by your own stroke!

I was going to do the full mile swim, but with the waves at my back, started to worry about exhaustion on the swim back. So I turned around a few yards early.  The swim back was harder.  But I got into a great rhythm and just swam. It felt smooth and though it was hard work, it was easy to keep going.

When I finished I took a quick shower in the outdoor shower at the beach.  I realized how, after a hard workout like that, I am totally comfortable in my skin.  There is no sense of embarrassment or body consciousness about wearing just a bathing suit in public. Instead of fretting about body hair or my tummy size, I felt strong, powerful, and graceful.  It was a swan swim.

Fearless

(this one isn't about swimming, but it is about how I see myself as an athlete.)

I've been thinking a lot about this woman who was in my gymnastics class last night. She's a lot like I was about 12 years ago and I found her SO annoying. She was incredibly pessimistic. She, and a guy, and I were in the "newbee" group, the other 4 in the "veterans" group. The instructor would give us a skill to work on, and she'd immediately start with the "oh, I don't think I can do that" and "I hope I don't hurt myself" and "I must look like a fool." She flirted with the guy in our little group. Couldn't stop talking to him when the instructor was talking. Teased him, etc. At one point she said to me "you lose 13 pounds in the first 12 weeks of this class. Or at least I hope so" About 45 min into the class we were working on running cartwheels and she decided her ankle hurt too much to keep doing them. So she sat and watched the rest of the class (though she almost got "better" when we moved to the trampoline.)

I'm not sure why I'm thinking about her so much today. Perhaps because she was a good example of how far I've come. I'm not in it for the weight loss. I don't try to pick up guys EVERYWHERE I go. My self talk is much more along the "come-on reebs, you can do this" line. In fact with the running cartwheels I did the first one, and fell. And the instructor said "you just went for it. Good job!" I was so proud. I did just go for it. Forgetting fear. Realizing you have to learn to fly to do this skill.  I found pure joy in that moment. And it was spectacular.

This is who I am.

This post is a week late. The swim was last Saturday. Sunday I got on a train across Canada, and couldn't post. So here it is.

I didn't do the "last gasp" swim.  I'd pulled my glute muscle earlier in the week, and wasn't sure I'd have a strong enough kick. Another "DNF" was not the way to gain back my confidence. So I thought I'd test things out in Lake Washington instead.  This idea proved to be brilliant.

I was having a very emotional day. The trip across Canada was one I'd been anticipating for almost a year. And the fact that I was finally packing to go had me in a vulnerable feeling head space. That, combined with almost a week off exercise to rest the glute left me craving a workout.

I took a break from packing, and headed down to the lake. As I was getting in, a father, out walking with his young son, asked me about the water temp. My reply was "probably in the high 60's, so a little warmer than the air."  When I checked the bouy stats, I was right. 68*.  Perfect for a short swim.

Within 5 strokes I KNEW I'd made the right decision.  I remembered who I am.  Swimming makes me the most me I know. The sky's were cloudy, so visibility under water was excellent. And I relaxed.  The stress of the trip, the emotionality floated away.  It was the perfect swim.

It rained briefly. My first "wet" swim.  And the waves were whitecaps for a while.  I probably only swam for 25 minutes, as I still had some housework to do.  But it was still perfect.  A reminder of who I am.

I don't have photos from the swim.... so here's one from the train trip across Canada.'

Lost my nerve?

There's a "Last Gasp of Summer" swim this Saturday at a lake just about 20 minutes from here. One mile and two mile options. Course open for 90 min with the 1 mile swim starting either 15 or 30 minutes after the 2 mile start, depending on which web page you read. Either way, that leaves at least an hour for a mile swim. In a lake (no tide). I didn't sign up a few weeks ago, when I first learned about it, because I didn't know if I'd be in town or not.  Now I know I will be.

But...

For some reason, I'm scared to sign up. Do I want to drive all the way over to SeaTac to swim with strangers? What if I'm pulled again? There is something about the Park-to-Park, and the Greenlake Open Water Swim (GLOWS) that are familiar, are family. There are people there who love me. Who know I may be slow but that I'm strong. Do I really want to swim with people who don't believe in me?

I think my confidence is still shaken from the Whidbey Island swim. Especially the idea that I didn't know how bad off I was.  Although I admit that is a possibility, based on how I felt later in the day (neither cold nor tired) I have a hard time believing it is the "truth."

The first ever OWS that I did was GLOWS in 2007.  Here is an excerpt from my race report (note, that I swam this without a wetsuit):

There were about 50 people doing the half-mile and I started near the back. The chop was still strong from all the swimmers and a stiff wind, and I was getting a face full of water every time I turned my head to breathe. It was so cold that I was hyperventilating, my heart was racing. I switched to breaststroke to see if I could catch my breath. Then to sidestroke, facing away from the waves, so I wasn’t being hit in the face. The other swimmers around me (back of the pack) were struggling in the waves as well. I heard one call a lifeguard over to take her back to shore. Another took her wetsuit off and dropped it with a guard.  I pushed on, panting, and wondering how I could relax and breathe.

It occurred to me that I might have to drop. I wasn’t sure what to do to breathe. I slowed down. I switched strokes (trying everything but back stroke) I still couldn’t get my heart to stop racing or my breath to slow. I was taking in large amounts of water. I was quite sure I wasn’t going to do my tri in 3 weeks, not if the swim is going to be like this.  I knew, that I could do this swim if I could relax, but I couldn’t get my body to relax. The green tents of the finish looked so far away.

At one point I was the second to last swimmer. I heard three guards talking to each other- I’ll take this one, you take that one, you go on ahead with the pack. Great. I had my own guard. I took on more water, coughing. The guard asked me if I was ok. I told him I was fine, and kept moving forward.  I’ve had this kind of “death march” feeling in a race before. My goal was to just keep moving as I fought to relax. I couldn’t figure out how to catch my breath and still swim forward.

About half way across the lake I started to relax. Somehow, I got my rhythm. I was able to switch between crawl and breast. I gave into the experience, and swam.  The swim became fun. I started passing other swimmers. The green tents at the finish started coming closer. I could hear my mom’s voice yelling for me, and the cheers of other swimmers and spectators. I saw the swimmer in front of me stand, marked the spot and swam for it. Then I stood, legs shaking, and ran for the finish.

The conditions were bad, and I panicked, but pushed through it and finished in 22:xx (it's a short half mile). My head knows I can do it. My heart continues to doubt.

I'm still undecided about the "Last Gasp." My Saturday plans are not yet finalized, so I'm not sure I can make it. But I wish I were more excited. More able to say "I can do this."  I'm not sure where my confidence has gone or why I need others to believe in my to be able to believe in myself.