The Swim

The course: two loop, wade start. The day before I’d hesitated mightily to get in the water, but found I was being silly—despite the chilly air, the lake was very comfortable, almost warm. The water wasn’t especially clear or cloudy, just a normal lake. Like I mentioned yesterday, I don’t care much for double loops, but the water itself was a-okay with me. On race day I found George and Ben on my way to the water, and we laughed and joked while we waded out to the start. It was relaxed, fun--like college but with wetsuits and better bodies. I opted to start about 10 feet in front of them, and we started drifting apart. We wished each other luck and I tried to put my game face on.

I like to start swims on the front line and out to the side; it’s worked for me so far in these things. The canon boomed and the melee began. I’m used to getting the “swim beating” for about 5-10 minutes, then having the place clear out for the most part. While I started this race in the same spot, I never cleared the water traffic. Most of the thrashing and punching was accidental, but it never seems that way when you’re the one who was punched in the face. There are people who do that crap on purpose, and I’m ashamed to say it occurred to me at one point to deliver a well-timed jab. Of course, my jabs wouldn’t be well timed, and my one attempt to intentionally push someone ended up reaching only water. I took it as a sign I wasn’t meant to be a swim brutalizer and should just keep moving.

At the first turnaround buoy the water got rougher. Since I haven’t open water raced since June I forgot that you can’t take your breaths for granted, and this is especially true in choppy water. I tried to keep my cool, swim straight, and work with the waves, but I had a sinking feeling my swim would be bad. The second loop was more of the same: struggling bodies and waves. I emerged from the water at 1:09:42, 4 minutes after my original (silly) goal. While this isn't a time to be proud of, I did beat 2 female pros-- kinda cool.