A 10 kilometer open-water swim. All I remember is the mind-numbing tedium and the relentless boredom as I swam, staring at the same tree with every breath I took. Stroke, breath, tree. Stroke, breath, tree. Stroke, breath, damn bloody tree... It started, as these things usually do, in the hot tub after a late night masters swim practice. I invented what I called my LDSND.
I was just relaxing and chatting with a friend when he suggested that I should go swim the Horsetooth 10k Open Water Swim.
Now that's a long swim title, but the part that I didn't seem to register at the time was the 10k bit. That's 6.2 miles long for us Yanks. A big omission.
My friend had swum the race the year before and he described it as a sort of nice and easy leisurely walk in a sun-baked park.
"Each swimmer, of course, gets their own paddler," he told me. "Your paddler makes sure you are ok and carries your food." He described in bucolic details the wonders of sipping green tea as he swam across the entire length of Horseshoe Reservoir on a warm Sunday morning.
The hot tub had just lulled me into a warm and happy and totally stupid place. So I went home, jumped online and signed-up for my first and only 10k swim.
I knew I was in some serious trouble the night before the swim, when I got to the mandatory pre-race pasta dinner. Don't get me wrong. The organizers were great and the pasta was fine. Iit was the race program that scared the hell out of me. Scanning the list of the swimmers and their paddlers, one by one, my mouth just dropped open like some stunned bass.
These were not serious swimmers. These were uber, mega, super-duper, really, really, serious swimmers. The program listed all the racers' former accomplishments, such as the "Double Channel Swim". Do you know what a double Channel swim is? I bet you can guess. I did and, to my absolute horror, I guessed right.
Just so we are perfectly clear, a double Channel swim sets out across the English Channel from England to France. As the crow flies, that is about 13 miles at the point that most folks swim it, but the actual swim distance is more like 20 miles, because of the strong currents.
You drag yourself out of the cold and murky waters on a beach in France, after hours and hours of swimming, and you say to yourself something like, "Self, have you seen the price of a train ticket through the Chunnel to get back to England?" In lieu of reply, you turn around, jump back into the cold and murky water, and swim all the way back to jolly old England.
If you had a double Channel to your credit, you were ready for the Horsetooth 10k Open Water Swim. I, on the other hand, just sank deeper into my chair when they announced my previous swim accomplishment. My great feat of swim strength was to have swam a grand total of 2.4 miles (or the length of an Ironman swim) the year before.
Oh, and did I mention that I had done this great feat of swimming in a wetsuit? And did I also forget to mention that the Horsetooth was an official masters sanctioned race, which meant that open water swim rules apply.
Which means, and I'm sure I forgot to mention this, that wetsuits are strictly forbidden. However, you are allowed to grease yourself up like some old black and white movie of a swimmer from the 1920's. Why and what the grease is supposed to do remains a complete mystery to me to this day. The only greasing that I actually saw on race day was with suntan lotion.
Anyway, needless to say, my 2.4-mile great feat of swimming strength was the equivalent of a falling into a pool and paddling to the other side for the double Channel experts.
I was now terrified out of my mind. The only thing that gave me comfort was my great new swim invention. You will recall that all this started in a hot tub with the promise of green tea.
My friend had informed me that you were allowed to drink and eat during the swim, but under no circumstances (remember the open water swim rules) could you touch the support boat or lake bottom. Knowing this I had invented what I called my LDSND (Long Distance Swim Nutrition Device). It consisted of a bottle of ice tea (not green, as I'm not such a big fan) and a bottle of Gatorade, duct-taped to a swim pull buoy, which was tied to a long rope. My idea was that my support paddler could throw me the LDSND, I would happily drink and he would use the rope to pull the LDSND back to the boat.
I was just relaxing and chatting with a friend when he suggested that I should go swim the Horsetooth 10k Open Water Swim.
Now that's a long swim title, but the part that I didn't seem to register at the time was the 10k bit. That's 6.2 miles long for us Yanks. A big omission.
My friend had swum the race the year before and he described it as a sort of nice and easy leisurely walk in a sun-baked park.
"Each swimmer, of course, gets their own paddler," he told me. "Your paddler makes sure you are ok and carries your food." He described in bucolic details the wonders of sipping green tea as he swam across the entire length of Horseshoe Reservoir on a warm Sunday morning.
The hot tub had just lulled me into a warm and happy and totally stupid place. So I went home, jumped online and signed-up for my first and only 10k swim.
I knew I was in some serious trouble the night before the swim, when I got to the mandatory pre-race pasta dinner. Don't get me wrong. The organizers were great and the pasta was fine. Iit was the race program that scared the hell out of me. Scanning the list of the swimmers and their paddlers, one by one, my mouth just dropped open like some stunned bass.
These were not serious swimmers. These were uber, mega, super-duper, really, really, serious swimmers. The program listed all the racers' former accomplishments, such as the "Double Channel Swim". Do you know what a double Channel swim is? I bet you can guess. I did and, to my absolute horror, I guessed right.
Just so we are perfectly clear, a double Channel swim sets out across the English Channel from England to France. As the crow flies, that is about 13 miles at the point that most folks swim it, but the actual swim distance is more like 20 miles, because of the strong currents.
You drag yourself out of the cold and murky waters on a beach in France, after hours and hours of swimming, and you say to yourself something like, "Self, have you seen the price of a train ticket through the Chunnel to get back to England?" In lieu of reply, you turn around, jump back into the cold and murky water, and swim all the way back to jolly old England.
If you had a double Channel to your credit, you were ready for the Horsetooth 10k Open Water Swim. I, on the other hand, just sank deeper into my chair when they announced my previous swim accomplishment. My great feat of swim strength was to have swam a grand total of 2.4 miles (or the length of an Ironman swim) the year before.
Oh, and did I mention that I had done this great feat of swimming in a wetsuit? And did I also forget to mention that the Horsetooth was an official masters sanctioned race, which meant that open water swim rules apply.
Which means, and I'm sure I forgot to mention this, that wetsuits are strictly forbidden. However, you are allowed to grease yourself up like some old black and white movie of a swimmer from the 1920's. Why and what the grease is supposed to do remains a complete mystery to me to this day. The only greasing that I actually saw on race day was with suntan lotion.
Anyway, needless to say, my 2.4-mile great feat of swimming strength was the equivalent of a falling into a pool and paddling to the other side for the double Channel experts.
I was now terrified out of my mind. The only thing that gave me comfort was my great new swim invention. You will recall that all this started in a hot tub with the promise of green tea.
My friend had informed me that you were allowed to drink and eat during the swim, but under no circumstances (remember the open water swim rules) could you touch the support boat or lake bottom. Knowing this I had invented what I called my LDSND (Long Distance Swim Nutrition Device). It consisted of a bottle of ice tea (not green, as I'm not such a big fan) and a bottle of Gatorade, duct-taped to a swim pull buoy, which was tied to a long rope. My idea was that my support paddler could throw me the LDSND, I would happily drink and he would use the rope to pull the LDSND back to the boat.
SHARE
