Your first long swim
traildog1
Member
Hi all, my name is Jason. How about a nostalgic thread? Share your stories of your first long swim(s). Whatever 'long' means to you, share it here. I'm no marathoner (yet?), but I started the thread so I'll share my longest continuous swim to date.
My workouts these days tend to total around 4k, 3 or 4 times each week. 4x1000 is common. Anyway, I'd been wanting to do 4k continuously, but I was going to wait for lcm (lcm on weekends, scy on weekdays). Early last week I went to the pool with 2x2k in mind. But at 30 laps (1500 scy) I was feeling good - smooth and relaxed - and didnt particularly want to start counting over! So I decided to go to 50 laps. My shoulders started feeling really good, so 60 laps...at about 57 or 58 laps or so I decided I'd go all the way up to 80 (4k scy).
I felt great afterwards. I even wished I'd gone to 100 laps. It was kind of strange when I decided to do the whole 4k at once...it was like I knew all along I was going to do it...
Anyway, how about some of your first long swims?
My workouts these days tend to total around 4k, 3 or 4 times each week. 4x1000 is common. Anyway, I'd been wanting to do 4k continuously, but I was going to wait for lcm (lcm on weekends, scy on weekdays). Early last week I went to the pool with 2x2k in mind. But at 30 laps (1500 scy) I was feeling good - smooth and relaxed - and didnt particularly want to start counting over! So I decided to go to 50 laps. My shoulders started feeling really good, so 60 laps...at about 57 or 58 laps or so I decided I'd go all the way up to 80 (4k scy).
I felt great afterwards. I even wished I'd gone to 100 laps. It was kind of strange when I decided to do the whole 4k at once...it was like I knew all along I was going to do it...
Anyway, how about some of your first long swims?
Comments
I don't think I did any long continuous swims before the event, and my longest yardage in one practice was 4,000 yards (not meters). A few times, I did more than one swim per day, so I probably got up to about 6,000 yards on those days.
I expected to have 10 minutes of rest after the 1K and 20 minutes after the 2K. It turned out I was overly optimistic about my times. Also, it took a long time to get from the finish back to the start. So I had almost no rest after the 1K and more like 10 minutes after the 2K.
That 4K was not fun at all! We were right by a marina, so there was a ton of wake. I wasn't wearing a wetsuit, but I had major chafing on my arm and neck. That was the first time in my life I didn't enjoy swimming. I couldn't even remember why I was out there to begin with. I thought I was so far out of last place that they would pull me. In fact, I was nowhere near last--that was just my mind playing tricks on me. The last place finisher came in about 30 minutes after I did.
When I got home, I called a friend to tell her the horrible story. She asked what was I doing now. I told her I was putting on sunscreen to go to the pool and swim it off.
I did the same race a month later, and it was a breeze the 2nd time around.
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I was in the area visiting my parents, and decided to email the director the day before the event to see if I could get a spot. I was swimming what would have been my first long distance swim a week later in the 3 mile Hudson River Swim for Life, and I thought the Judge would be a good tune up swim, if I could get in. I checked my email throughout the day, but didn't hear anything. So that night I went out to the Dinosaur BBQ, a Syracuse, NY institution, with my wife and cousins, and went to town on BBQ and Syracuse Pale Ale. Let's just say I wasn't the designated driver. When we got home, around midnight, I checked my email and found out I could possibly get a no show spot, if I showed up early (not supposed to tell anyone that).
So four and a half hours later, I got up and drove to Skaneateles, registered, and found a bathroom that I could drop 10 pounds in. I was burping up bbq the whole race.
Did I mention? I didn't have a bathing suit with me when I first inquired about the race. I figured I'd run over to Dick's Sporting and grab one, if I got in. By the time I found out I could swim, it was too late. So I was the guy wearing a pair of basketball shorts, with pockets, cinched down as tight as I could get it. I took a special satisfaction with every racing wetsuit I passed on my way to a mildly hungover 29:51, but I felt like I was pulling a garbage barge.
-LBJ
“Moderation is a fatal thing. Nothing succeeds like excess.” - Oscar Wilde
So my first long swim was a literal non-event
Luckily for me I had in the course of my training discovered the wonderful South End Rowing Club so was able to do my first Alcatraz a month later with the club and then my first without a wetsuit a couple of months after that (apparently I was actually one of those crazy people
Now two years later I am signed up to do my first first marathon swim in May - the South Head Roughwater Swim and have goals beyond that
http://notdrowningswimming.com - open water adventures of a very ordinary swimmer
Suddenly I noticed it was not as crowded and that I was catching up on people and leaving them behind. So I started to relax and enjoy the swim and my surroundings (Bacalar is a 60km lagoon where you feel you are completely floating in Outer Space. It is known as the 7 colored lagoon and there are points where the color of the water is of an intense dark blue where the only thing you see are your own bubbles and the only thing you hear is your own breathing- It is quite an extraordinary sensation). To make a long story short, I started focusing on a swimmer ahead of me that I wanted to catch up with, once I did that, I focused on another swimmer and so on until I saw the finishing line and then I sprinted towards it. To my surprise and complete delight, I won 3rd in my category (35-40yrs). I was so happy because I was just expecting to finish the race!
That was my debut in Open Water races...since then I've done quite a few 5k and 10k events and I wish to sometime soon upgrade to 15k or more!
None of us were in great hiking shape at the time, so by the time we reached the fourth town, Vernazza, our legs were pretty much done. The final segment, from Vernazza to Monterosso, is the longest and most strenuous. We could just hop on the train... but then someone had a bright idea: Why don't we just, uh, swim to Monterosso?
A 1.5-mile swim vs. a 2-hour hike... heck, we'd probably get there faster anyway! Sounds like a pretty reasonable idea, right?
My brother and I were totally down with this plan, and started stripping down to our shorts. Our traveling companions, conveniently, were not down with the plan. So we gave them our clothes to transport via train.
It was a spectacular swim. The Mediterranean was calm, clear, and low-70s - a pleasant change from the high-80s air temp. We lazily made our way up the coast, point-to-point, with leisurely breaks to gaze up at the cliffs. As nobody else was stupid enough to do it this way, we had the place to ourselves.
A little over an hour later, we rounded the final point and swam into the beach, where our traveling companions (and clothes) were waiting. My armpits had just begun to chafe from the saltwater. Here's a view of the swim route from behind Vernazza, looking toward Monterosso:
It was, indeed, the road less traveled.
I was at the same fogged out 2010 alcatraz swim. It was my first time in salt water and I was also in a wet suit. I had gotten back in the water six months prior, specifically for this even. It had been years prior that I even swam 25 yards, but a friend talked me into it and I was ready. We did the alternate "Breakwater Swim" and I did very good in my age group. So I went back in 2011 and got to check that one off the list of things to do. I want to go back and do it without wetsuit next time, but not this year.
The first long swim was a 2011 4K lake swim prior to 2011 Alkatraz. And just to lead up to the 4K, there was the 2K event earlier that morning. Both were well attended and was my training for mass start and turns and sighting and dealing with the sun and running into volunteer boaters that couldn't quite figure out how to steer a canoe. It was fun, tiring, exasperating, chafing... all the things I've learned to love about open water. I can't wait to get back there for the 2012 event.
The first swim that seemed i did that seemed impossibly long at the time was Bonaire 10k in 2006 (I think). The course was basically "swim to the airport tower, swim around the boat moored there, get a drink there and swim back". You could either hug the shore and swim a real 10k or go straight across the deep blue and cut off a little of the distance. I'm a complete chicken but laziness won out and I went straight across and back. There was even a huge rain storm when I was half way back. It seemed like forever but was probably only about 5-10 minutes of floating around without a living soul or land in sight. I chose to tread water rather than swim blindly and it turned out to be a good idea because my now ex husband swam himself completely off course and I beat him by a few seconds. Kinda feel guilty about that....
@evmo- I hiked the Cinque Terre on my honeymoon in November 2007, just a few months after my first 10k. I remember saying how amazing it would be to swim the trail, rather than hike it. My now ex thought I was crazy and said it was impossible. He still thinks I'm crazy, but I doubt he'd try and tell me it was impossible any more! ;-)
Has been a dream swim of mine for a while...
PS, the Google Earth labeling software reverses the proper order of Manarola & Riomaggiore... not my fault
It all felt very new to me, the chop looked to me like a 3-meter swell and I ended up swim pretty much on my own for the whole race. I remember having a short sample of Elevation by U2 ("Oooooh Oooh, Oooooh ooh-ooh, E-le-va-tion") stuck in my head for a long long while. I liked the whole experience so much that I ended up travelling down to Annecy almost every year on my own until 2006 for my only open-water swim of the year. It didn't occur to me at the time that there might be other lakes/rivers/oceans to cross!
Sylle - EC Fly 2013 [Video]
"I never met a shark I didn't like"
It is a beautiful place, the old town is really pretty, the lake front features nice parks and mountains are all around. Definitely one of my favourite places in the world!
Sylle - EC Fly 2013 [Video]
If you're at all interested in the program, or you're curious what other people think about when swimming a long way, you can check out my write-up of the experience:
http://throwmeintheocean.com/2011/05/12/darkness-and-light-a-6-hour-swim-attempt-malta-post-3-of-3/
We're all just carbon, water, starlight, oxygen and dreams
I haven't laughed so hard in a long time. Thank you!
-LBJ
“Moderation is a fatal thing. Nothing succeeds like excess.” - Oscar Wilde
Then I turned around, swam back, and had to sit on the beach on time out. But it was SO worth it.
In 11th grade, a river festival was re-started in my town and it included a 2-mile downriver swim (I don't think it was actually two miles). I entered and place in the top three that year and won in my senior year.
In college my freshman year, we went to Ft Luaderdale over the winter break to train and our coach made us enter an 1-mile ocean swim.
No other OW swims until 4 years ago when I entered a 2.5k lake swim. Last year I did a 5k lake swim and will be doing the GCBS this year.
If all goes well at GCBS I'm looking at entering the "marathon" distances.
It's an addiction, I tell ya. GCBS will go great, then you will be addicted to harder things...that last longer...to get your high.
But the "long" swim I remember the most was about 3 weeks into training. I was down there every day, the basement pool at the local Bally's. Like many adult onset swimmers I could go 25 yards at a stretch when i started, eventually to 50 and was fighting my way up to 125 at the time. I would get uptight and tense as i went, again like most adult onset swimmers.
On this particular day I started with the intention of doing the 125 of whatever I could do until I got so out of breath I had to stop. But i got going and started thinking about something else I guess, relaxed and after a little while realized "I've gone 200 yards already." and I didn't need to stop.
I think I swam another 200 and realized i still didn't need to stop.
That 400 yard swim in a pool was my first "long" swim and was a huge breakthrough, the day I relaxed in the water. I remember it well and remember it fondly.
I had no idea how far 1650 was, but coach said I was going to swim it at a time trial meet. I said "tell me when to stop swimming" and I think I stopped a few times to ask "am I there yet?" because it seemed like I was swimming forever. I think it took me around 30 minutes and I finally had a team age group record on the board.
I didn't think I could swim 200 lengths at the swim-a-thon, I thought maybe 70 was realistic. 5000 yards turned out to be no problem but I had to fight my dad for the last potato at dinner time. I cleaned up on the fundraising..... and learned about sandbagging!
Our team also organized an OWS which was a time trial in Lake Sammamish. We jumped off a boat at intervals and swam up the slough, 1/2 a mile, to Marymoor Park. It was super gross and full of milfoil, so I swam breaststroke the entire route. I think I still have the certificate they gave out for finishing.
When I turned 14, I quit swimming because I was frustrated that I wasn't getting any faster. I wish my coach had been able to recognize that I was a distance swimmer, but I don't believe much thought was given to a (girl) kid swimming more than 200 yards back then.
I've been open water swimming for 20 years and I'm just (finally) getting around to my first 10K race this summer, although I don't think of 10K as being all that long. I'm contemplating SCAR for 2016, to celebrate turning 50. Now that will be a long swim.
I love reading everyone's stories!
It's always a bad hair day when you work at a pool.
Now although I had decent open water experience, I had never raced open water, and certainly never swam any race of this length. It was a short 1k course in a teeny tiny pond somewhere in Houston with 0 visibility because of how dirty it was. Right at the start I got shoved under water and had to hold my breath for about 30 second or so til there was a gap for me to come back up. I struggled through the swim the best I could, passing almost no one and putting up anything but an impressive time.
At the time I hated the experience, but looking back on it, I love it. It is what made me decide to give open water swimming a real try starting this past year. A lot like @jcmalick, the Little Red Lighthouse 10k was my real gateway though. I got tired of being a lazy ex college swimmer last year and decided to sign up for that race thinking "Oh I did that 5k when I was 15, a 10k can't be that much harder." Well I got back in the water and trained semi-hard for it, and much to my shock I won it. Admittedly the win is tainted because I wore a wetsuit (not my idea, but was enforced by a very scary Mom/ Girlfriend combo that was worried I would get hypothermia). But this year I am looking to try my hand at my first real marathon with the 10 mile at Kingdom Swim in Vermont, and defend my title at the Little Red Lighthouse 10k (this time the honorable way, without a wetsuit).
But I by God learned stroke efficiency!!
My First Time: So when I was 8 or 9, our swim team had a "swim-a-thon" fundraiser where we solicited pay-by-the-lap pledges from our neighbors. There were three goals on the pledge card: "100 laps, 200 laps or 300 laps." We were supposed to pick one and tell our prospective donors. I had no idea what my goal should be, so I circled the middle one: "200 laps." Seemed reasonable. I was the youngest kid on the team. 300 must have been for the big kids.
On the day of the event, I lost count immediately. So I figured I'd just keep swimming until I got tired. I never looked up. Swim, flip, swim, flip. I don't remember ever feeling tired, but I did notice the pool getting less and less crowded. And then someone grabbed my foot mid-turn. It was coach. He was laughing. Said I had to stop now. I looked around and it was just me, my brother, coach and dad. Even the big kids were gone. Not finished--GONE. Dried off, packed up, gone. No one else was in the pool or even in the natatorium. He said we were both over 400 laps (SCM--so over 10K), but he had to lock up now. It took years for me to realized the significance of what my brother and I had done. I was more trying to figure out why everyone else left so soon.
Say what you want about the old-school dads, but mine gave me a skill that I always appreciate and I give him all the credit. Plus, now that he's 83, its payback time! He's fit like Jack Lalaine, but he's having to cut back on his running/weights and replace them with swimming. So now we do lake swims together and I get to punish him! I like to tell him, "QUITCHYER SNIVELLIN!!" He has a better sense of humor now than he used to...
"Lights go out and I can't be saved
Tides that I tried to swim against
Have brought be down upon my knees
Oh I beg, I beg and plead..."
The second try was in Lake Superior, and I did a small loop over and over and over to get my 6 hours in 57 degrees. I think that was probably the best mental training I've ever done. It was drizzling, and dreary, but the water was crystal clear and I got to know each fish-heavy spot and algae-covered rock.
Chikopi is pretty much a 100% sports camp focusing on swimming and running. Lots of other sports to full the time during the day, which further confirmed that I would only be a swimmer.
Camp was run by ISHOF icons Buck Dawson and Bob Duenkel. Bob is now the owner/director. I went back there last summer to visit and show the campers my EC video. I also got to coach a few OW workouts as well as race the kiddies in their Chikopi mile. I got second to a 17 year-old camper by :05. He was surprised that a fat and injured old guy could keep up. I was about :60 faster than my 1980 time and :45 slower than my 1997 time when I took the US Swimming National Team training camp there as their coach.
The last of 7 weeks was a canoe trip, which was 4 days and 3 nights. There was about 4 hours of paddling a day and even had to go through some locks connecting Ahmic Lake to another one (forgot the name). I swam the entire canoe trip. Maybe 20 miles over those four days. I remember one local kid throwing rocks at me as I passed his house. There was also a huge rope swing we stopped at both ways.
Racing-wise it was the Atlantic City 37K on 1995. I was fortunate to get second overall. My inexperience was actually an advantage. I cramped up at the 1995 25K Pan Pac trials in Lake Lanier, GA in mid-June. It was 5x 5K loops in 84 degree water. I wanted that sucker wrapped up by the end of the first 5k. I was out in about 55-57 minutes after the first loop and right on 2 hours after 10K. I didn't see the 15K mark. I cramped up in my quads, hammies, and calves all at the same time. I had to be rescued by one of my kayakers (I had a two-place kayak with me). I have a 24 hour gap in my memory because the next thing I remember was being at the finish-line of a triathlon the next day. This is the race where I learned that hot water would be my constant nemesis.
I gained a lot of knowledge the week of the Atlantic City swim leading up to the race by Karen Burton, who kicked OW ass for a long time. She was very eager to help and advised me about how to handle myself with respect to the other swimmers and a problematic swimmer at that race who I'll call "Dave".
I was a late entry into Atlantic City, so I had to swim as an amateur with Dave who was an old rival of mine as a kid . He just came off of a win at a salt water 20K and was very vocal about ripping the other swimmers for being slow. He was a sub-16 minute 1500 swimmer. He also petitioned the race director and swimmers for us to be eligible for price $$$. The contracts between the race and swimmers had already been signed, so it wasn't going to happen. I didn't sign it. I was successful in keeping my distance from him and avoid being an "ugly American".
The day before the swim we were at the "Flying Cloud" restaurant at the start/finish line. He was commenting again on the other swimmers for being slow and having inferior technique. He told me that he was going to win and that I would get second. He advised that his strategy was to sprint the ocean leg, which was the first 10 miles from Brigantine Channel to Longport jetty. Dave would then throttle down and cruise to victory.
My gear for the swim was a Speedo Aquablade brief, latex cap, and Speedo Sprint goggles consistent with the other swimmers. Dave was wearing a 26/28" "paper" suit brief and Swedish goggles. No cap.
The escort boats were beach rescue two person dory boats with oars on both sides, so the swimmer had to swim behind it. So, it was draft legal and my finger tips hit the back constantly. This is where I ripped up my shoulder because I had to lift my head to see the boat over the 7h17m swim.
My trainer Craig told me that Dave was "making his move" about 40 mins into the swim. Craig then told me that he was no longer forcing the pace about 60 mins into it.
20 minutes into the swim I ran into a Lions Mane jelly face first. It then scooted down my body and stung everything. Even my mouth was stung. This took my mind off of things for several hours because it hurt so much.
I went into Longport in fourth place. The incoming tide there was the fastest water I've ever raced in. It made Manhattan look slow. The ocean leg was about 3 hours.
By the time I hit the Dorsett Avenue bridge I had moved into second place and stayed there until the end (with one exception).
The lessons learned in Atlanta paid off here. Slow and steady wins the race (or gets you second). I made my feeds 12 minutes apart. I also started getting weird pains that I found intriguing along with peeing in my suit, which was absent at 25K Nats.
Turning from the Back Bay to Brigantine Channel had us going into a strong headwind a bit from our left. It pushed us into the reeds making things difficult. Craig kept telling me to stick behind the boat on multiple occasions. At one point I stopped, stood up, and yelled "I'm doing the best I F-ing can!!"
With about 1200 meters to go we passed Harrahs Casino on our right. I was ahead of an Argentinian swimmer by about a minute or so. Next thing I see is him running on the Harrahs boat dock, passing me, and diving in ahead about 25 meters.
To back up a bit, Craig and I reconned the finish area; specifically the Brigantine Bridge. The bridge there today replaced one which had wavy metal sheets pounded into the ground and once filled with boulders making up the foundation of the bridge. The sheets had two holes just big enough to swim through and cut off over 100 meters. It was legal in this race to do this, So I did and kicked the argentine's butt.
There are several hundred people at the finish line. It was cool to hear them all chant "USA USA" as I came in.
When I got out of the water I was taken to the rehab area under a tent. Attila Molnar of Hungary won the swim and was about 10(?) minutes ahead of me. He was laying down on a cot and his face was all cut up from hitting a barnacle encrusted piling that he ran into. He also had one of those Mylar space blankets warming him up.
We had bad weather all day. When I was under the tent a gust of wind lifted up the tarp and the middle pole fell out of its grommet in the center. The pole fell toward me and bopped me on the head. I was too sore to move and my reflexes were somewhere in Longport. I was able to get out. Attila wasn't so lucky. You could see his outline under the blue tarp. Poor guy was trapped.
I ate and drank for free that night.
I'm guessing you're wondering about what happened to Dave?
A motorized rescue boat brought him in about 45 mins after I finished. I was able to talk to him when he was in the back of the ambulance before they took him to the hospital for hypothermia. His eyes looked beat up too from the Swedes.
The race director had me staying at the Showboat casino for the week. On my way to the race that morning the hotel elevator had a banjo version of the "All In the Family" theme "Those Were the Days" on a continuous loop. It was with me for the entirety of the swim.
When I went too bed I surrounded myself with every available pillow in the room. I couldn't believe how bad I hurt. After a while of trying to sleep, I quit forcing it, got dressed, and went to the casino floor. Low and behold, Dave was there playing blackjack. He congratulated me on my second place swim and by being his only accurate prediction that week. He told me about how his swim went sideways and got cold. He was embarrassed and humbled by things that week.
The AC "Around the Island Swim" is still the hardest race I've ever done. If this was a 10, the EC was a 6.
I am officially hooked. I have been open water swimming ever since, increasing my distance each year. This summer I will attempt a 70km swim at Cowichan Lake, Vancouver Island, Canada.
I highly recommend open water swimming, whatever the distance!
Anyhoo, I (and the alcohol) said "OK I can do that too". I mean, I had 4 weeks to train before the swim so shouldn't be a problem. I was very fit, running lots and playing Aussie Rules footy. I had never swim >50m non-stop though, and had never done any swim training ever. A friend in the masters club offered to swim with me on the day, and I'll never forget her for doing that. It took me/us 42+ minutes, but it got me started I guess. I still use this swim as a benchmark of where I am swimming wise. The following year 37mins, then 34, 31 and so on until the last one 26+ mins. No speed daemon but better. Of course I'm doing longer swims as well now, quite a few 5ks and so far one 10k, and in Feb 2015 I'm hoping to do the Rottnest Channel Swim solo.
I now swim more km per week than I used to run. If someone had told me that 10years ago I would have said they're bonkers.
gw
P.S. In all my non-swimming years I knew many Master swimmers as my wife was a life-long club member/swimmer. I knew many of them had done ows and some had done the Rottnest Channel solo, but at the time I had no appreciation of their achievements. I think it's actually quite hard to appreciate athletic endevours and achievements unless/until you are involved yourself to some extent. I look back in awe now at a good mate (we were each others best man) who had done 10 Rotto solos before I started swimming.
So I really consider Stage 3, 8 Bridges, as my first marathon swim. I've been looking for the next rung.
I disrobed just before the start and my cousin took off in his car to meet me at the finish. The race was great, 1.5 miles of incredible sunrise vistas of the water and lower Manhattan skyline made the swim seem short. Before I knew it I was at the finish and pumped with adrenaline on the completion of the race. After walking down the line and getting congratulated, rinsed and awarded with a medal I walked away from the crowd to find my cousin along with my towel and warm clothes. The effects of the cool water(58F) were starting to kick in and I started to shiver in my speedo. My cousin was nowhere to be seen when another swimmer approached me. Paul Kiell, I would find out, is a veteran of the NYCSWIM events. Immediately he gave me his towel and hoodie and asked how I was doing. We had a long conversation, one that I've had with many OW swimmers since. You know, where you feel like these people are family you've never met and that you've become part of a secret society of super humans. Paul's kind act and words made it easy to see why swimming was something I wanted to be a part of my life until I leave this world.
My first long swim was Lake Tahoe. Sand Harbor to Chambers Landing.1986 The route of the original OC Tahoe Relays, about 14 miles, across the middle of the lake. I had been on a relay or two, I can't honestly remember and was hooked. Even though I had to sit out my 10 min slot due to being seasick.( Little did I know then you could puke and still swim). At any rate, one of my many mentors Dave Kenyon, was training for the swim solo. He succeeded and encouraged me to try. I swam more in the pool ( a few tearful pool sessions that even a rubber ducky on the pool side didn't help) I was soo tired. ( little did I know)
I started at 3 in the morning , w Dave Kenyon and my coach Marie McSweeney in the boat, a rib or zodiac , that's it. ( again, little did I know!). I ALMOST made it! ALMOST. I was probably about 1.5 miles from shore, maybe two, again, no gps no nada. I got cold. I pulled myself. 30min later , on shore , I was warm. If I had known... I'm pretty sure I could have made it. However, that first ( not last) failure taught me sooo much.
You can do more than you think you can,when you think you can't.! Preparation is everything and at the same time, nothing. Mentors are amazing people. If Dave had not encouraged me, if Marie hadn't volunteered to be in the boat... if if if. I would have never started on this journey.
If I had succeeded on a the first try? I probably would have not learned as much.
You never forget your first swim.
5KM punishment by our club coach. Took the entire practice. After a while you feel like your having an out of body experience. It was pretty cool. Though that first 2KM is a bit of a hump.
Skip forward to 2014, 3 months post total hip replacement and I am now in training for the Malta/Gozo this August. Just Googled the water temp in Malta in August.....27 degrees. Aaaaaahhhh bliss.
Wish me luck.
Paddles.
I have a question about Kapiti - is it invitational? I had a feeling it might be. If so, how does that work. I've driven past Kapiti Island once or twice a year over the last 12 years or so and that water can be ROUGH! However it looks absolutely beautiful on a calm day.
Don't be fooled by the serene appearance of a calm day either, it's an evil stretch of H2O! It aint called Windy Wellington for nothing so the chances of no chop on the day is pretty hit and miss.
Give it a go though, you may strike one of the 5 days a year there's no wind!
Cheers
Paddles
I swim open water here, but stick to Freyburg pool in Wgtn, apart from a brief splash in Lyall Bay - that makes you know you're alive!
I've had Kapiti in the back of my mind for a while, but TBH I think I'd need a lot more cold water experience first -ie more than 'none', which is where I'm currently at!
And it sounds like you were at least in good company the year you didn't finish - no shame in that knowing the conditions.
Thanks for the info.
What was significant was it was my first OW swim. Suddenly it was serious, I was committed. The week before I drove from Sao Paulo where I was living to a beach with roped buoys running the length of the beach, 400m offshore. I swam up and down the buoys and every evil thought, every nasty sharp toothed beast that lived in the sea or never had done, flashed through my mind. All my (perfectly normal) demons came out on that practise swim. I did the full 2+km with a great sense of achievement. Not only had I conquered the required distance at a good pace but more importantly I had conquered my demons. I raced in Santos the following week full of confidence and have never worried about creatures of the deep since. Small race but big moment.
click on the Sea Trekking tab at the top. The 20k is my 2016 bucket list swim. :-)
My first big swim was Galway Bay this summer, you can read all about it here:
http://bobsboggyblobblog.blogspot.ie/2016/07/galway-bay-2016-adventures-of-near.html
Thanks @brendanobrien for reviving this thread. I just spent a little time reading not only your account, but the many other tales of glory and woe. It got me think about what was my first long swim and I think I know which one that was.
To frame things correctly, I will say that I was 17 at the time and now I’m older and I think maybe a little smarter. But please keep this in mind as I relate this tale.
My friend Colin and I were on the swim team together. Colin was basically a slab of muscle and he would fill a doorway. He was an unbelievable breast stroker and all around powerful dude. I was not. But I was in pretty good swim team shape, and we were good friends so that was that. One day, Colin called me up to tell me that he had just bought a Sailfish sailboat and did I want to go out for a sail. Colin was the instigator of too many adventures to list here, but this obviously was the beginning of another one. I wasn’t doing anything and so I signed up.
The fact that he wanted to go sailing in Long Island Sound and it was mid-March didn’t really seem like a bad idea at the time. For those of you who don’t know, a Sailfish is not unlike a paddle board with a pole and a sail mounted on it. So this is maybe not the best craft for ice-biting in the Sound, but like I said, we were 17. Colin showed up at the house with his new somewhat used Sailfish on his car and off we went to the beach.
We got to the beach and got the boat off the car and down to shore. We figured out how to rig up the sail and got ready to go. It was pretty windy with a fairly stiff breeze blowing out to the Sound. It was also pretty cold, but we were going for it anyway. We had to take our shoes off and roll our jeans up to launch and then we were off. The wind just made the boat fly and we were crashing through waves and enjoying the yachting life.
We were considering whether we should go all the way across to the island, but in a rare moment of actually thinking things through, we decided that maybe that wasn’t a good idea. So we decided that maybe we should turn around into the wind. And that’s when I found out that Colin had no idea how to sail a boat. To be fair, nor did I. I knew we had to “come about” and then we would “tack” into the wind. But I really wasn’t sure of the mechanics. So after some debate, we decided to turn the darn thing and see what happened. That’s when we capsized.
I should probably mention that our sailing attire consisted of our slightly wet jeans, t-shirts under our flannel shirts and, well that was basically it. Life jackets were an option that Colin had forgone for this maiden voyage. So there were were, in the drink with a capsized Sailfish, about a mile offshore. We thought it was pretty funny. Cold, but funny. So we righted the craft. Here is where it was helpful that Colin was strong as an ox. We scrambled on board and somehow managed to point the thing in the right direction and there we were, sailing sort of into the wind. We were tacking! Well, we were until we decided we needed to come about. That’s when we turned and capsized again. Not quite as funny this time. The wind was chilling us and so the water almost seemed warm, but it was a little tougher getting the boat righted. We sort of aimed it in the right direction and then scrambled aboard.
We continued this “tacking” maneuver for I can’t tell you how many times. Each plunge becoming more dreadful than the previous one. Each time we got back on board, the wind made us colder and we were starting to consider just staying in the water and swimming the boat in. Or maybe even leaving the stupid boat. We were getting so cold that we could barely hold onto anything and talking was becoming difficult. All this time, neither of us were panicking. There wasn’t a single boat out there beside us. Hmmmm… But we were just gutting it out at this point. We had swum many practices together and we weren’t really the complaining type, so we just kept tipping, recovering, shivering and getting closer to shore.
Finally after probably a couple hours, we somehow got to shore. Neither of us could talk. We were so cold we couldn’t make our muscles move. We staggered to his car and got in to warm up. We sat there for quite some time in pain and silence. After a while we decided to get the boat back on top of the car. This in itself was a struggle because we really had nothing left. We finally got it up there and drove home.
Only much later upon reflection I realize that if we weren’t young and stupid swimmers we probably would have drowned and a Sailfish would have been found mysteriously floating somewhere out in Long Island Sound. I would like to say that this is what got me into open water swimming, but it’s not.
Sure, I'll take a turn!
First off, as a kid, I learned to swim mostly in the Great South Bay (did have some pool swimming lessons, but my memory of them is vague). The instructor was hard-core. The bay could be choppy. It could be chilly (from a kid's perspective). As long as there was no lightning, swimming lessons were on. And I always enjoyed swimming in the bay when I visited as an adult. But I had fewer and fewer opportunities. And after a while, swimming was just something I did to help me stay in shape when I had running injuries. During a rather stubborn foot injury, however, I couldn't race for about a year, and I began to miss the camaraderie, the competition--the t-shirts.
As usual, I was swimming, and one day I noticed at my Y a flyer for a mile open water swim. By then, I was able to swim a mile in the pool, but I was pretty slow (still am, but anyway...). So I looked up the last place time of the previous year, to ensure that I could finish before they all closed up and went home. The time listed was 45 minutes. And at the time, it took me about an hour to swim a mile, some of it breaststroke. So I worked my way into swimming the whole mile freestyle, then aimed to go a little faster--and a little faster still. until finally, I reached that magic mark of 45 minutes.
I didn't at the time have a coach or belong to any masters' swim group, but there was a great lifeguard working in the early morning, a triathlete and an excellent swimmer. He gave me some great feedback on my stroke and encouraged me to enter the swim, which I did.
When race day arrived, I was nervous--everyone looked like an expert, and I knew no one. (When I went to running events, I always ran into friends.) My bf at the time had gone with me but other than that, I didn't know a soul. And although it was a bay swim, so pretty similar to conditions in which I'd learned, I had no clue about any procedure.
One of the swimmers said people were heading out to the start, so I went with them. Then we were called back. There was a meeting we had to attend before the start. So back we went. And then they sent us out. But I had to hurry; the start was coming right up, and the start line about 150-200 yards from shore. So I added a few hundred yards to this "mile" swim. And although I had improved my speed, the other swimmers were still faster; the start signal sounded when I was still about ten yards away.
And everyone shot off, except yours truly, who was in plodding mode. This too wasn't my running experience, where I was always around mid-pack. And at first I wondered if I really was too far outclassed to be in this race. However, I made the trip and t-shirts were given out before we started. I sure wasn't going to wear mine unless I'd actually completed the swim. So I decided, to swim until I either finished or someone kicked me out for being too slow.
Eventually, I fell into a rhythm, and a very nice kayaker showed up and began encouraging me, telling me I had a great stroke (I didn't really believe him--but I ate it up anyway, desperate for whatever positive talk anyone offered). In any case, I began enjoying the experience. It was a gorgeous day, warm and sunny, and the water temp, as I recall was comfortable enough.
Eventually, I closed in on the finish, and ran up to shore--assuming I'd finished last, but not worried about that, just glad I finished. Then I heard cheering, and when I turned to see why, there was one other person coming in.
That was in 2002. Not long afterward the running injury started healing, and I was able to return to foot races, so swimming went back on the shelf, but that race awakened in me an interest that I later pursued--in 2005, when a masters' group formed at my Y, and the coach talked me into an ocean swim.
Are you kidding, I told him--I don't do ocean swims! But he was persuasive and eventually I did the swim he wanted me to do. I even finished several places ahead of last. Then I was hooked. Someone suggested I try the Great South Bay Swim. "How long is that?" I asked. "Oh, five miles." NO way! I couldn't swim that far.... except I did... in 2007, 2010, 2014, and 2015. My first DNF for Great South Bay was this year, but this year, I completed the Valley Forge Marathon Swim, an 8 miler and my longest distance.
That one mile race planted the seed. Now... I'm thinking of maybe some longer distances!
My first long swim was very recent (May 21st), and doing it is what spurred me to get back on this forum.
A month or two ago I got back into the water after a long break, and was at first unsure how much retraining I would need to do. In my previous stint at this, I'd worked my way up to doing 4 km in the pool once, but never attempted anything longer than 1 km outdoors. In my mind the pool distances don't really "count" because of all the direction changes. (The other issue I have with pools is that it takes me a lot of mental effort to not lose count of laps, so I'm never quite sure how far I've gone...)
Even after I got my schedule sorted out enough to have time for swimming again, I was able to go a few times but then I ran into a mental block with water entry once it thawed -- I know this was 100% mental, because when there was ice, I was doing this without much difficulty:
(Photo taken by a passing hiker who said, "Dude! I need a picture of this or no one will ever believe me when I tell them what I saw!" My ego does appreciate that kind of attention...)
So I could do that, but liquid water with no ice on it? Eeek, too cold. Very strange and frustrating, and that further shook my confidence about being able to do longer swims.
After a few more trips to the lake, though, and one to the ocean, I got over that. (The ocean trip was on a windy day and that helped a lot -- you just get in and the next wave forces the issue. Once I was in I acclimatised at the usual rate, and the ocean was colder than the lake, so I told myself if I could do it there...)
Then, the long swim: It was Thetis Lake in Victoria, BC (same as @msathlete). The weather was finally warming up, and threatening to be too warm for the lake to be considered "cold water" very, very soon, and I wanted one more go at that lake before that happened. As it turns out I was already too late by about a week, I think, because when I did this it was already 17 C at the surface in places (and about 14 C in the shady areas and below 50 cm depth). But, being that warm meant that I could do the swim with practically no concern about hypothermia, and that's what let me turn this into a much longer swim than planned.
My original plan was to go straight across the lake (straight up from my starting point on the map), then either swim straight back, or swim back along a partial perimeter if I felt up to it. But as soon as I stepped in and started swimming, the surface felt warm, and I thought to myself after twenty-five metres or so, "if it's this warm this is going to be easy, and I might as well do the perimeter right away."
When I reached the narrow passage between the two major parts of the lake (top middle of the map), I saw that the passage was deep enough to swim through, and my opportunistic ambition increased to, "hmm, maybe I will try the whole lake." And the rest of my adventure is annotated on the map.
Before this, the longest I'd ever swum continuously was 2 hours in a pool, so I was leery about the 2-hour mark on the stopwatch, but as I approached and then passed it, I didn't feel as though I was close to any physical limits. At about 3 hours I started to get fairly tired, but it was the kind of tiredness that feels like it'll improve, the more and more I do this. That was a really good feeling. (Total time was 3 hours, 27 minutes, so I'm fairly slow.)
And when I got home and measured the path I'd swum to be 7 km, that was an even better feeling.
All of this means that I'm going to attempt the goal I listed when I first created my profile (back in October, before my hiatus) very soon, and then set a bigger one. (I need to do a few more tide/current scouting swims first, though, and maybe wait for the ocean to warm up to the 9 C I specified.)
The map (start is near the bottom middle):
Edit: This links to the full size version on my blog