The great swim (well, sort of)

This has to be the ugliest picture ever taken. I had to put it up here so you could all laugh with me.

The swim. Wow. I'm so glad I did it! If you ask me about it now, it was one of the funnest things I've ever done. If you'd asked me about it halfway through, I would have told you I was looking for a way out. Preferably the warmest one.

I was prepared for the distance. I could easily have gone further. I was woefully unprepared for the cold. Holy cow! We woke up the morning of the swim and I was horrified to find that the air temperature was only 50 degrees. I thought, "kill me now. I cannot do this, I have to have the sun shining on my back!" I got over the air temp. It was okay because adrenalin took over and my feelings of fear overtook the cold. The water temperature was something else. I'd been used to training (not often enough, apparently) in water that is about 68-70 degrees. The water at the start of the race was 66. I didn't know that or I may have attacked someone and taken their wetsuit. Alas, I had to be brave and I knew the only way I'd be happy with this race was if I swam it "naked" (sans wettie).

Well, I did. I was in the water for 2 hrs and 19 minutes. That is a LONG time to be in water you're not acclimatized to. Also, a long time for a 5K. I'm not quite sure what happened but my mile time increased by about 6 minutes per mile. What?! Whatevs. I'll get that under control before my next swim. Anyway, I started shivering about 1 minute in (yes, really) and was shivering so much that I had a hard time with my feed. Oops. Apparently my lips turned gray at one point and Steve started asking me my date of birth and full name etc., because he thought (rightly so) that I was getting hypothermic. About 2/3 of the way through the swim I stopped shivering and while that is sometimes a bad sign, I think I was okay because my skin color never did anything weird and in the pictures of me getting out of the water, my lip color is back. I am not a quitter but about halfway through I thought I might need to get out. Then I remembered the air temp and decided the only way to end the pain was to "just keep swimming". So I did. Lesson for me: train A LOT more in cold water before attempting the 10K next year. I'm such an idiot.

I'm happy to say that my stroke stayed pretty consistent throughout the swim. I had been trained in Total Immersion just a few months prior to the swim and it's made my stroke so much more efficient. Even though I was freezing to death, my arm entry and body roll were right on track ;).

Steve and his brother Matt were my paddlers and I'm very thankful for it. I still have a hard time sighting and they kept me on track and paddled for what I'm sure was a very boring two hours and nineteen minutes. Ugh. I'm glad Steve had some company otherwise he may have jumped overboard.

I'm so glad I did this swim and plan on doing many more. It was a great experience and I learned a LOT. The organizers and volunteers were fabbity fab. Maybe open water swimming is like childbirth-you forget how much pain you were in during the event and soon plan on doing it again ;).

Steve and Matt paddling away. The moistened bint in the water is me ;).

Nice form, Heidi!

Steve and Matt totally left me in the dust near the finish. I think they were embarrassed because some of the 10K racers were on my tail.

A Watery Tart.

I got major vertigo getting out. I've never had a problem before (it's an issue with swimmers) but I couldn't stand up on my own. Quite amusing.

So, so, so cold. Like an ice cube. Or a giant, tan icicle.

And the lovely hooded towel. My warmth and solace ;).

Peace out,

Heidi