Joined
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6,300 Posts
<p>short:</p>
<p> </p>
<p> DNF</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>haiku:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"you're f*cking kidding"</p>
<p>is what I said to the guy</p>
<p>when he pulled me out</p>
<p> </p>
<p>he was really nice</p>
<p>but there was a thunderstorm</p>
<p>and safety is first</p>
<p> </p>
<p>but honestly? I</p>
<p>was having a good swim and</p>
<p>was going to finish</p>
<p> </p>
<p>long:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>pre-race:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>drove to NJ on friday.</p>
<p>drove to MD on saturday, with a side trip to pick up Stitcher. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I was nervous, but oddly the second we drove over the bridge, I was suddenly not nervous. not sure how that happened.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After an early dinner, pulled all my stuff together (which, note, swim race crap FAR less than tri race crap) and went to bed at a reasonable hour. slept well. woke up easily, and excited.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Got dropped off to the finish to take a shuttle over to the start. Stitcher made friends on the shuttle while I tried not to get carsick. Then we picked up numbers, got bodymarked, found a spot in the shade, puttered around. I tried to dislocate Stitcher's arm to help me beat her (if you can't beat 'em, beat 'em!) when I gave her a hand up from the ground (sorry again!!!).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So we puttered around, Stitcher found tape to make sure her chip didn't fall off, I found tape to make sure that my engagement ring (which I forgot to take off) wasn't going to go anywhere while I was swimming. Stitcher made friends, I zoned out and thought about my race and how freaking hot it was. We both put on LOTS of sunscreen, since neither of us were wearing a wetsuit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When it was almost time, we dropped our drop bags and headed back for the pre-race meeting. The said that the water was as warm as it's every been, and the current was predicted to be "very mild". Ebb at the start, then slack, then flood at the end. They also said the water was "flat" today. They said about 900 times that if you were under the bridges, you were out. They also suggested that if someone in a boat said you were out, that you cooperate so that they didn't need to send over the boat that had the guys with the guns. Um, noted. They also spoke about the procedure if you were pulled, that you'd get a boat ride to the fuel dock at the end. Two guys behind us piped up with 'The Pier of Shame' and we all laughed. (hah, hah)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They sent us down to the beach, over the mats, and then we roasted on the beach for a few while everything got ready. They sent a dude off early as he was swimming across the mother-f*cking CHESAPEAKE BAY with no arms and no legs. He had a big monofin and was swimming on his back. They gave him a head start so we didn't drown him in the mass start.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This race is different in that they send the slow swimmers off first to keep swimmers clustered and give everyone the best chance to hit the channels at slack tide. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>race:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I was standing in the water (it was HOT!) when I realized that meant I was going to get slammed by everyone who wanted to sprint the first bit. Since that was NOT my race plan, I walked back up the beach. When they sent us off, I gave it a second and then got in and worked the plan: smooth and easy to conserve energy until AFTER the channel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>We swam from the beach out past the jetty, and then under the spans. It's the coolest freaking feeling. So I swam between the "world's largest lane lines", overanalyzed my line and the effect of the current, thought about how "flat" bays are not nearly the same as "flat" lakes and pools, and tried to keep a nice, steady pace. 27 minutes into the race, the eventual winner passed me like I was a water aerobics lady. So I'd been swimming for 27 minutes and he'd been swimming for 13. I refuse to do that math.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anyway, onwards. Sang to myself (mostly beastie boys), enjoyed the warm water and the million water temp changes, and kept right as suggested.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When I got out to the channel, holy freaking crap. All of a sudden, I was swimming and going backwards. OK, I trained for this, time to turn on the jets. Jets turned on. Now I am going exactly nowhere, but drifting towards the south span. Let's see, do we have more jets? sure. I started making some headway, but realized that there was no way that level of effort was sustainable. So I switched to sidestroke (which, power with less effort, plus my head is high enough to see). I looked at the red caps of the faster swimmers ahead of me, and the yellow caps of the slower swimmers like me, and watched which way they were all picking lines and who seemed to be heading in a productive direction. I picked a spot on the north span that was ahead of me and across the big lane, and basically hauled ass aiming at that point. I took a couple of sidestroke breaks to breathe hard, and got myself across. I could see the two mile buoy and the feed boat, so I set that as my goal and focused. I told myself that if I couldn't keep myself in the channel and they pulled me, fine, but I was NOT giving up. I saw at least one person quit and get a ride. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>At this point, the "flat" water probably had a couple feet of chop - the waves were coming from my rear right, and the current was pushing from my front left. A totally odd feeling, and it made it very hard to get any sort of rythym. I was happy I'd practiced short choppy strokes in addition to long pretty pool strokes. I eventually made to the feed boat, had my nutrition (Justin's nut butter, chocolate hazelnut and honey almond, mmm) and a couple shots of hot water. After a little rest, I headed off. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It stayed choppy for a while but the current decreased after I crossed the channel, and I felt like complete and utter ass until my nutrition kicked in. I got another bit of energy, and then all of a sudden, settled into a really nice groove in the slightly flatter water. Even when the chop kicked back up, I still felt strong and smooth and awesome. I was joking with the kayakers a little, flew past the three mile bouy, past the second channel, and into some relatively nice flat water.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Just when I finally felt like I really *had* this (one mile to go! I can do that!)....</p>
<p> </p>
<p>.... a kayaker came over and said, I'm really sorry honey, we have to pull you, there's a really big thunderstorm coming in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>what?</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>are you f*cking kidding me?</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>really? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>now?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>f*ck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>so he told me to grab his bow and he'd tow me over to a powerboat for a ride to the pier of shame. that was super awkward, and since the boat was about 100 yards away, I got him to let me swim over while he collected other people. I climbed onto the boat, got a towel and some water (and the nice boat dudes ignored that I was obviously crying, and mentioned that neither one of them was crazy enough to swim half as far as I'd gone, and that I looked like I "had it in the bag"). While we were sitting on the boat heading back in, you could see major lightning over the bridge to the east. So we listened to the race radio, got some gossip (there was apparently a probably fatal heart attack about an hour before, and they'd actually had the EMTs over doing CPR on a floating board in the water before the pulled the guy into a boat. this race is SERIOUS about safety). We then watched some guy ignore instructions to get on a boat, climb out to an embankment instead, ignore all efforts to get him into a boat until they sent the police boat over. Dumb*ss. Then again, if they pulled me with about a 1/3 of a mile to go, I would have been even more pissed off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>so that's my race. afterwards, we did the usual find people, find stuff, get rained on, make a plan, make a new plan, find other people, find cars, sit in traffic... then we had a lovely "linner" with Stitcher and her family. I will admit to feeling better about being so far over my projected time once I found out Stitcher was too, since she's a heap better swimmer than I am.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I was upset and demoralized for a few hours, now I'm pissed and planning my training and strategy for next year.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I may or may not ever wear the shirt.
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> DNF</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>haiku:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"you're f*cking kidding"</p>
<p>is what I said to the guy</p>
<p>when he pulled me out</p>
<p> </p>
<p>he was really nice</p>
<p>but there was a thunderstorm</p>
<p>and safety is first</p>
<p> </p>
<p>but honestly? I</p>
<p>was having a good swim and</p>
<p>was going to finish</p>
<p> </p>
<p>long:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>pre-race:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>drove to NJ on friday.</p>
<p>drove to MD on saturday, with a side trip to pick up Stitcher. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I was nervous, but oddly the second we drove over the bridge, I was suddenly not nervous. not sure how that happened.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After an early dinner, pulled all my stuff together (which, note, swim race crap FAR less than tri race crap) and went to bed at a reasonable hour. slept well. woke up easily, and excited.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Got dropped off to the finish to take a shuttle over to the start. Stitcher made friends on the shuttle while I tried not to get carsick. Then we picked up numbers, got bodymarked, found a spot in the shade, puttered around. I tried to dislocate Stitcher's arm to help me beat her (if you can't beat 'em, beat 'em!) when I gave her a hand up from the ground (sorry again!!!).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So we puttered around, Stitcher found tape to make sure her chip didn't fall off, I found tape to make sure that my engagement ring (which I forgot to take off) wasn't going to go anywhere while I was swimming. Stitcher made friends, I zoned out and thought about my race and how freaking hot it was. We both put on LOTS of sunscreen, since neither of us were wearing a wetsuit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When it was almost time, we dropped our drop bags and headed back for the pre-race meeting. The said that the water was as warm as it's every been, and the current was predicted to be "very mild". Ebb at the start, then slack, then flood at the end. They also said the water was "flat" today. They said about 900 times that if you were under the bridges, you were out. They also suggested that if someone in a boat said you were out, that you cooperate so that they didn't need to send over the boat that had the guys with the guns. Um, noted. They also spoke about the procedure if you were pulled, that you'd get a boat ride to the fuel dock at the end. Two guys behind us piped up with 'The Pier of Shame' and we all laughed. (hah, hah)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They sent us down to the beach, over the mats, and then we roasted on the beach for a few while everything got ready. They sent a dude off early as he was swimming across the mother-f*cking CHESAPEAKE BAY with no arms and no legs. He had a big monofin and was swimming on his back. They gave him a head start so we didn't drown him in the mass start.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This race is different in that they send the slow swimmers off first to keep swimmers clustered and give everyone the best chance to hit the channels at slack tide. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>race:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I was standing in the water (it was HOT!) when I realized that meant I was going to get slammed by everyone who wanted to sprint the first bit. Since that was NOT my race plan, I walked back up the beach. When they sent us off, I gave it a second and then got in and worked the plan: smooth and easy to conserve energy until AFTER the channel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>We swam from the beach out past the jetty, and then under the spans. It's the coolest freaking feeling. So I swam between the "world's largest lane lines", overanalyzed my line and the effect of the current, thought about how "flat" bays are not nearly the same as "flat" lakes and pools, and tried to keep a nice, steady pace. 27 minutes into the race, the eventual winner passed me like I was a water aerobics lady. So I'd been swimming for 27 minutes and he'd been swimming for 13. I refuse to do that math.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anyway, onwards. Sang to myself (mostly beastie boys), enjoyed the warm water and the million water temp changes, and kept right as suggested.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When I got out to the channel, holy freaking crap. All of a sudden, I was swimming and going backwards. OK, I trained for this, time to turn on the jets. Jets turned on. Now I am going exactly nowhere, but drifting towards the south span. Let's see, do we have more jets? sure. I started making some headway, but realized that there was no way that level of effort was sustainable. So I switched to sidestroke (which, power with less effort, plus my head is high enough to see). I looked at the red caps of the faster swimmers ahead of me, and the yellow caps of the slower swimmers like me, and watched which way they were all picking lines and who seemed to be heading in a productive direction. I picked a spot on the north span that was ahead of me and across the big lane, and basically hauled ass aiming at that point. I took a couple of sidestroke breaks to breathe hard, and got myself across. I could see the two mile buoy and the feed boat, so I set that as my goal and focused. I told myself that if I couldn't keep myself in the channel and they pulled me, fine, but I was NOT giving up. I saw at least one person quit and get a ride. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>At this point, the "flat" water probably had a couple feet of chop - the waves were coming from my rear right, and the current was pushing from my front left. A totally odd feeling, and it made it very hard to get any sort of rythym. I was happy I'd practiced short choppy strokes in addition to long pretty pool strokes. I eventually made to the feed boat, had my nutrition (Justin's nut butter, chocolate hazelnut and honey almond, mmm) and a couple shots of hot water. After a little rest, I headed off. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It stayed choppy for a while but the current decreased after I crossed the channel, and I felt like complete and utter ass until my nutrition kicked in. I got another bit of energy, and then all of a sudden, settled into a really nice groove in the slightly flatter water. Even when the chop kicked back up, I still felt strong and smooth and awesome. I was joking with the kayakers a little, flew past the three mile bouy, past the second channel, and into some relatively nice flat water.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Just when I finally felt like I really *had* this (one mile to go! I can do that!)....</p>
<p> </p>
<p>.... a kayaker came over and said, I'm really sorry honey, we have to pull you, there's a really big thunderstorm coming in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>what?</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>are you f*cking kidding me?</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>really? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>now?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>f*ck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>so he told me to grab his bow and he'd tow me over to a powerboat for a ride to the pier of shame. that was super awkward, and since the boat was about 100 yards away, I got him to let me swim over while he collected other people. I climbed onto the boat, got a towel and some water (and the nice boat dudes ignored that I was obviously crying, and mentioned that neither one of them was crazy enough to swim half as far as I'd gone, and that I looked like I "had it in the bag"). While we were sitting on the boat heading back in, you could see major lightning over the bridge to the east. So we listened to the race radio, got some gossip (there was apparently a probably fatal heart attack about an hour before, and they'd actually had the EMTs over doing CPR on a floating board in the water before the pulled the guy into a boat. this race is SERIOUS about safety). We then watched some guy ignore instructions to get on a boat, climb out to an embankment instead, ignore all efforts to get him into a boat until they sent the police boat over. Dumb*ss. Then again, if they pulled me with about a 1/3 of a mile to go, I would have been even more pissed off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>so that's my race. afterwards, we did the usual find people, find stuff, get rained on, make a plan, make a new plan, find other people, find cars, sit in traffic... then we had a lovely "linner" with Stitcher and her family. I will admit to feeling better about being so far over my projected time once I found out Stitcher was too, since she's a heap better swimmer than I am.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I was upset and demoralized for a few hours, now I'm pissed and planning my training and strategy for next year.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I may or may not ever wear the shirt.
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>