As I've mentioned before, growing up I never really did more than step foot into Lake Michigan; literally. Now as I continue on my unexpected journey I've survived twice of not only stepping foot into Lake Michigan, but also putting my face in, breathing air out, and swimming through Lake Michigan.
Admittedly so, I need a few more survival trips in Open Water Swim (OWS) before I may even say I'm remotely comfortable. Then again let's define comfortable. Well, not in the literal sense, but in the OWS Triathlon sense. In Triathlon OWS you either wear a wet suit or you don't. It's pretty much that cut and dry. Now say, a race in Florida it's probably not wet suit legal given the fact that Florida is, well, warmer than Chicago. So what does that mean? That means when I try to survive my OWS in Lake Michigan I am wearing either a bathing suit or my tri-suit under a body sucking, black neoprene get up that could easily be confused for a Catwoman costume, but instead it's called a wetsuit. And let me state, while I'm not judging at all, wetsuits look good on maybe about 20% of the population wearing them. And by population, I mean, triathletes. And by good, I mean, it's not natural and not daily wear.
So as I'm rocking my not-quite-Catwoman costume I then throw on a latex swim cap that makes me look nothing short of a potential alien life form. Add on my swim goggles and throw me into the Lake with hundreds of other people dressed the same as me ... and you have yourself an OWS session. As well if you don't know where I am, your chances of finding me are pretty slim. I have to imagine we are quite the sight! In fact, during our last OWS clinic there were several tourists, walkers, people around the Ohio Street Beach and as we rushed through the sand, into the water folks were taking photos and videos. I'm pretty sure some of them had to think "Well, this isn't something you see everyday."
My first OWS experience was great. I expected to be nervous, almost panic; think the worst, talk myself out of it, and give up. I was pleasantly surprised with my first experience and it had me looking very much forward to my next experience.
I lived through my second OWS, but all of the thoughts I expected to have during my first experience I had during my second. This was what I would call a bummer; I was looking forward to this experience and getting more practice. The group I was placed in was just fine I suppose, but it wasn't anything more than fine. I feared how this might go as we watched another group start out and our main leader/coach showed us that the speed they started out at, statistically less than 10% would keep at that pace. That made total sense to me. Race day, adrenaline, rush, nerves. It made total sense to me. What made less sense to me was being instructed that we were going to swim our first 200 faster than race pace. Personally, I'm still trying to find my groove and race pace, let alone being told to swim faster than race pace.
We started out and I stayed near the back. Myself and a few other swimmers said we wanted to swim the half mile distance and at our comfort pace ... not breaking any records. This left the main instructor in the front of our group and another one in the back with us. I was going along just fine, although I did see myself and those around me growing further from the 'faster than race pace' group and it worried me. That was most certainly a glimpse of race day for me. I know I'm not going to be cruising along. I know I may panic. I know I will get kicked or hit or splashed. I know I can do it. Above all, I know I can do it and I will do it.
I got discouraged, the leader in the back with us was instructing me that if I got my left arm out of the water a bit more it would help with my rotation. This was in fact, nothing new to me. In fact that morning in Master's Swim I had heard it. In fact I hear that every time I go to Master's Swim. Despite my familiarity with the concept that I've yet to fully grasp I felt like in the middle of Lake Michigan during an OWS clinic probably wasn't the best venue to have that conversation.
Myself and the rest of the tail end swimmers made it to the 1/4 mile mark. Up next was either onto the 1/2 mile mark that results in a turn around to make up a full 1 mile swim. A few of us had already said we only wanted to make it to the 1/4 mile mark, turn around and swim back for a 1/2 mile swim. I'm training for a 1/2 mile swim so I currently lack ambition in OWS to go further than I have to. We made it to our point and turned around.
After it was all said and done I swam .53 miles in 18:20. In my opinion there's not a damn thing wrong with that. None at all. Not a thing. Take that Mister Man telling me to get my arm out of the water!
Despite my having survived and swimming in my typical time I was slightly shaken. Why did I let him get to me? In reality he was trying to help me. Was it my stubborness? Was it my lack of confidence and my "I just want to finish" attitude? Was it just an off day? I don't have the answer, it might be a combination of all of the above. It could be something else altogether. I survived, I swam, I did it.
I never expected to be on this journey and it's startling when I get upset on this journey and it's unsettling when I can't pinpoint why. A year ago at this time there's no way I would have been swimming actually mileage. Think about it ... you drive your car, you go the store, maybe it's a mile away. Some people won't walk a mile, and yet here I am able to swim a half mile in under 20 minutes and a mile in about 45 minutes. Now, sure we'd all look silly swimming to the store, then again I put on a wetsuit in public and go frolic in Lake Michigan and I look pretty silly doing it. And you know what?! I don't care because I'm doing it and yes without my left arm coming out of the water properly. Just think if I could ever get the entire fluidity of rotation and kicking to combine forces I might just do that half mile in under 18 minutes. Then again, time is a number, I'm doing it and in all honesty that's what matters most to me.
Admittedly so, I need a few more survival trips in Open Water Swim (OWS) before I may even say I'm remotely comfortable. Then again let's define comfortable. Well, not in the literal sense, but in the OWS Triathlon sense. In Triathlon OWS you either wear a wet suit or you don't. It's pretty much that cut and dry. Now say, a race in Florida it's probably not wet suit legal given the fact that Florida is, well, warmer than Chicago. So what does that mean? That means when I try to survive my OWS in Lake Michigan I am wearing either a bathing suit or my tri-suit under a body sucking, black neoprene get up that could easily be confused for a Catwoman costume, but instead it's called a wetsuit. And let me state, while I'm not judging at all, wetsuits look good on maybe about 20% of the population wearing them. And by population, I mean, triathletes. And by good, I mean, it's not natural and not daily wear.
Will and I in our rented wetsuits before our swim started.
So as I'm rocking my not-quite-Catwoman costume I then throw on a latex swim cap that makes me look nothing short of a potential alien life form. Add on my swim goggles and throw me into the Lake with hundreds of other people dressed the same as me ... and you have yourself an OWS session. As well if you don't know where I am, your chances of finding me are pretty slim. I have to imagine we are quite the sight! In fact, during our last OWS clinic there were several tourists, walkers, people around the Ohio Street Beach and as we rushed through the sand, into the water folks were taking photos and videos. I'm pretty sure some of them had to think "Well, this isn't something you see everyday."
My first OWS experience was great. I expected to be nervous, almost panic; think the worst, talk myself out of it, and give up. I was pleasantly surprised with my first experience and it had me looking very much forward to my next experience.
I lived through my second OWS, but all of the thoughts I expected to have during my first experience I had during my second. This was what I would call a bummer; I was looking forward to this experience and getting more practice. The group I was placed in was just fine I suppose, but it wasn't anything more than fine. I feared how this might go as we watched another group start out and our main leader/coach showed us that the speed they started out at, statistically less than 10% would keep at that pace. That made total sense to me. Race day, adrenaline, rush, nerves. It made total sense to me. What made less sense to me was being instructed that we were going to swim our first 200 faster than race pace. Personally, I'm still trying to find my groove and race pace, let alone being told to swim faster than race pace.
We started out and I stayed near the back. Myself and a few other swimmers said we wanted to swim the half mile distance and at our comfort pace ... not breaking any records. This left the main instructor in the front of our group and another one in the back with us. I was going along just fine, although I did see myself and those around me growing further from the 'faster than race pace' group and it worried me. That was most certainly a glimpse of race day for me. I know I'm not going to be cruising along. I know I may panic. I know I will get kicked or hit or splashed. I know I can do it. Above all, I know I can do it and I will do it.
I got discouraged, the leader in the back with us was instructing me that if I got my left arm out of the water a bit more it would help with my rotation. This was in fact, nothing new to me. In fact that morning in Master's Swim I had heard it. In fact I hear that every time I go to Master's Swim. Despite my familiarity with the concept that I've yet to fully grasp I felt like in the middle of Lake Michigan during an OWS clinic probably wasn't the best venue to have that conversation.
Myself and the rest of the tail end swimmers made it to the 1/4 mile mark. Up next was either onto the 1/2 mile mark that results in a turn around to make up a full 1 mile swim. A few of us had already said we only wanted to make it to the 1/4 mile mark, turn around and swim back for a 1/2 mile swim. I'm training for a 1/2 mile swim so I currently lack ambition in OWS to go further than I have to. We made it to our point and turned around.
After it was all said and done I swam .53 miles in 18:20. In my opinion there's not a damn thing wrong with that. None at all. Not a thing. Take that Mister Man telling me to get my arm out of the water!
Despite my having survived and swimming in my typical time I was slightly shaken. Why did I let him get to me? In reality he was trying to help me. Was it my stubborness? Was it my lack of confidence and my "I just want to finish" attitude? Was it just an off day? I don't have the answer, it might be a combination of all of the above. It could be something else altogether. I survived, I swam, I did it.
I never expected to be on this journey and it's startling when I get upset on this journey and it's unsettling when I can't pinpoint why. A year ago at this time there's no way I would have been swimming actually mileage. Think about it ... you drive your car, you go the store, maybe it's a mile away. Some people won't walk a mile, and yet here I am able to swim a half mile in under 20 minutes and a mile in about 45 minutes. Now, sure we'd all look silly swimming to the store, then again I put on a wetsuit in public and go frolic in Lake Michigan and I look pretty silly doing it. And you know what?! I don't care because I'm doing it and yes without my left arm coming out of the water properly. Just think if I could ever get the entire fluidity of rotation and kicking to combine forces I might just do that half mile in under 18 minutes. Then again, time is a number, I'm doing it and in all honesty that's what matters most to me.
No comments:
Post a Comment