Reminder: Social Media is Social Media- Not News

Social media is the modern equivalent of the refrigerator- a place to post photos, special family announcements, and silly things that 75 years ago would have been clipped from the funny pages.  Social Media is the modern equivalent of the public bathroom wall, too often used to share inappropriate information to embarrass someone- like "For a good time, call X."

Social Media is a clearinghouse for tabloid-style articles. If you think Social Media is a source of news and journalistic integrity, you really are the love child of a three headed space alien.  Social Media does not rise to the level of accountability expected of my fourth grade teacher, who said that when we gave talks and did reports, we needed to cite at least five resources, only two of which could be encyclopedias. We were expected to work for our facts. We were expected to stand in front of the class and answer questions about our presentations of facts.

Yes, Social Media allows for the sharing of actual news articles and links to journalistic broadcasts, as well as links to peer-reviewed journals and recognized examples of scholarship on many topics. BUT readers need to take a minute to consider the sources. Three headed aliens may have found a printing press on eBay, but that does not confer journalistic credentials on them, even if their rise to popularity is documented in a song recently released by Elvis.

I put forth and share these comments as MY OWN IDEAS.

I was inspired by listening to a discussion on NPR last night in the car about how to promote integrity on Twitter and other social platforms. I must admit, the concept of "Twitter Integrity" about made me snort my steering wheel. I consider the short blurbs generated by Twitter to most often resemble the bumper stickers and t-shirts in a souvenir shop- you giggle at them in the store, but would not likely actually spend money on them to wear nor stick on your car. Sure, there are nuggets of wisdom amid the graffiti, but do they elevate all quotes, quips, and exclamations by association?

Originally shared on my Facebook page on March 4, 2020

Cold Comfort

My lake was up to 50F today. . . but it is large, and there are reports of low 40s, or even high 30s in places. . . 

I am part of a surprisingly large community of cold swimmers around the world. . . Although my technical classification is Cool. Over the past few years, I have expanded my swim season and found great joy in swimming as the foliage changes. Two winters ago, I swam in the first snow of the season, an oddly early snow, while the lake was still in the 50s, so it was a lot of fun. And compelling. So I kept swimming into the winter. 

Swimming has been a component of my pain management strategy most of my adult life, as I have dealt with periodic back issues. Defying gravity is a beautiful thing when muscles and joints struggle. As a distance swimmer, I have enjoyed swimming into and out of daylight, and for hours which flow together and let the miles glide by.  

Cold swimming is the most disciplined and challenging swimming I do. Period. As the season shifts, and the sun stays lower in the sky, the color underwater is unlike any other time in the year. As the boaters pack up and pull out docks, I have fewer obstacles and risk factors, and am able to swim in some areas without my high visibility tow floats. A treat. 

While cold swimming, I am totally focused. There is no room for error, and my mind does not wander off my immediate priorities. In a way, I felt like I had to learn to swim again, to address the specificity. I constantly assesses my vital signs: How is my breathing? How is my pace relative to my breathing needs? Are my shoulders stiff? Can I wiggle my fingers or open and close a fist during the over-water recover phase of my stroke? Is anything numb? Does my skin feel like it is chilly or burning? What does my circulation feel like? Because I actually do feel it change as I get into the water and again when I am in motion. Are my ear plugs working? Does my face hurt? (that has only happened a few times, like when you get hit with a blast of icy wind) What does my skin look like as I pull my hands and arms through the water? How deep is the water? Can I touch the sand with my fingertips? What is the demeanor of a person paddling near me or standing on shore? And what is my precise exit strategy? Have I felt a shiver? That is a big one- I do not shiver in cold swims. Ever.  

Even wading in cold water takes concentration, even if I'm bundled into layers of shirts, sweater, winter coat, hat, tail-free scarf, mittens. . . The cold will travel. . . It will require focus. There is no room for dark thoughts in cold water. There is no crying. No second guessing of what could have should have happened in a room in another place. . . for minutes at a time, grief, pain, soul-crushing sadness is set aside, and there is peace. 

When the swimming stops, and the exit routine starts, focus continues. . . dealing with the straps, the shoulder towel, the body towel, the shoes, the nose clip and goggles, possibly another towel to stand on, a shirt to pull on a sweater to pull on a jacket pulled on- all while still able to operate the zipper. . . the cap traded for the neck warmer and hat, earplugs out (Ah, relief- the sound of the real world is so much softer than earplugs.) suit off, jeans on, leg warmers and/or wool socks, big clogs, mittens, tepid cocoa with a lid to keep it from burning my mouth or getting in my eyes. Because by then, the shivering is in force. After-Drop. An exhausting workout. So hopefully, when the thoughts come back, there is enough tiredness to sleep. . . 

I have come to enjoy cold swimming. . . who'd'a'thunk it? It is invigorating, challenging, and has had me practically dancing out of the water, giddy. . . but not in recent months. . . This winter has been a winter of a deep need for solace and peace, and my lake is always there for me, even when it needed a bit of a nudge.

My lake was 50F today, for the first time in about two weeks. The Catch 22 is that I can go further as the temperature goes up, but it is harder to maintain my mental discipline. This is worrisome for a marathon swimmer with goals. Transitioning to a pool in the winter is always a challenge, but this past winter was beyond hard. It was more than just missing my lake. From August until January, I was unable to manage a three mile pool swim. I had to stop so negative thoughts would not become ingrained in my swim strokes. I was able to focus during shorter sprints, which blasted through my energy levels and kept me on track. Mostly. It is a miracle of acoustics that primal scream therapy is not perceived by other pool users when done underwater. 

As the lake warms, will the movement of the sun or moon be enough of a focal point? Maybe having a paddler alongside more often to have a kind face to make eye contact with would help? As I swam into last fall, a paddler, the trees, the slowly increasing briskness all helped me savor a few miles at a time. . . the occasional fish and turtle also helped. Familiar shorelines, familiar rocks under the water, the rainbow chairs on one of the docks. . . these home waters may get me going the distance again. . . I hope so.  Because I have so many swims I want to do. But I have to be able to wrap my mind around them while I do them. I learned that in my Hague 7.5K.  

For now, I'll keep visiting my lake. . . and take what peace I find. 

Photo Credits:  

In water photo- Marsha Jewett-LaPointe, Christmas, 2019

Snow Photo- Linda Cunningham, November 13, 2018

Haiku is mine
Video- mine, February 1, 2020
On the snowy shore photo- Scott R. Tyler, December 17, 2019

Parental Responsibility

https://www.yahoo.com/news/york-dad-refused-let-21-150221060.html?ncid=facebook_yahoonewsf_akfmevaatca

The headline says: 

A New York dad refused to let his 21-year-old son back in their house after the spring breaker partied in Texas amid coronavirus spread

GOOD.  That is an example of a parent holding a nearly adult son accountable for his actions.  Regardless of the son's age, his lack of responsible behavior is a clear indication that he is not yet a fully functional adult.  The son should absolutely NOT be allowed to recklessly endanger the lives of his own family, and thank God the father is smart enough to know this and stand by his convictions.  

Mr. Levine was at least able to be in touch with his son, Matt, daily, and used that time to try to convince his son to do the right thing, but the son refused.  Many years ago, when my younger son was just 19, he also liked to spend time with his friends as it suited him, not always calling home, and not always answering his phone.  I knew my son was planning to to to his father's house over the summer to either visit or live, and I sent my son a message that I wanted to see him first.  I had locked him out of my new, yet unoccupied house, knowing he had left a backpack of personal items he valued.  I told him when I would be available to let him in to my house (we were still actually living in another location), see him, and speak with him before he left the area.  My son decided to break into my house, get his stuff, and meet up with his father.  When I saw where my ex was having breakfast with our other kids as part of his visitation, I went in, in case I could see my younger son.  He was there, and I asked him to come outside with me so we could talk and clear the air.  He was rude, and his father took his side without having all the facts.  

My younger son and I did manage to come to terms and move on.  I did not think much of the incident except that it illustrated what I saw as my ex's shortcomings and my son's immaturity. Imagine my shock when this incident was brought up recently in Family Court, and was used as one of the ways I was to be considered an unfit mother.  My expectation that my children would grow up to be responsible and TAKE responsibility, added to my willingness to risk their displeasure was used to build a case against me, and cost me custody of my youngest child who just turned 13.  

Yes, there is at least ONE Family Court judge in New York State who would likely side with Mr. Levine's son if the son decided to sue his father.  It was revealed to me in court, as my ex testified against me, that my younger son, who has been in the Army for several years, is (or at least as of January, was) stationed in Iraq.  My ex feels it is perfectly acceptable that he would know about that and not keep me up to date.  And the judge used THAT against me also- that even after a few years of a fairly typical relationship with a son living far away, an estrangement that came about was used to batter me in the judge's decision.  

My inability to maintain a close and ALWAYS HAPPY AND ACCEPTABLE TO MY SON relationship was held up as a reason to no longer have custody of my daughter- and yes, it was mentioned in Court that losing custody of my daughter, and sending her to her father was the only way the Judge felt that I could ever manage to have a future relationship with HER- The judge sees my ex as a savior who will provide the best care for my daughter, and somehow, by limiting my visitation (VISITATION??!!) to once a month, my ex is believed to be the only chance I have of a continuing, positive relationship with her. . .  

I have often said that I was the strict parent.  I did not expect being a mother to be a popularity contest. I expected my kids to occasionally be angry with me.  And since my ex dumped us in a filthy divorce, I have spent years trying to rationalize the situation by figuring that at least his permissiveness was limited to visitation.  I could still spend my time, with both my sons and my daughter, teaching them how to be adults.

In the nearly 13 years since, I worked to see my sons through high school, and my daughter through her infancy and into early adolescence.  I have worked to ensure that when they were in my custody, they were housed, fed, educated, and raised properly.  I did this by living my values.  I did this by accepting the generous support of family for years in terms of moral support and part time work, during which my mother watched my then baby girl. I did this by filling out forms to allow my sons free lunches at their new schools, one school being my ex's alma mater, where once upon a time, my ex had complained bitterly about the embarrassment of getting free or reduced lunches. I did this by remaining in an area where I could afford to live on my low income, and use child support to fill the gaps.  

And what I did allowed my elder son to get his associates degree with no student loan debt after the Recession- no small task.  He earned scholarships sufficient to cover all expenses. My younger son earned the same opportunity but decided after a year of college to leave the area to be with his father and eventually join the Army.  All of this was presented in court as reason for me to be declared unfit, and IT WORKED. 

So much was dredged up to try to justify this custody petition, which was primarily predicated on the fact that my daughter's school had recommended she get a diagnostic assessment to allow her 504 Plan to be converted to an IEP.  My efforts to get clarity and information about what the 504 was supposed to allow, relative to what actually was happening initially, was depicted as a REFUSAL to see to what was portrayed as an urgent need for intense intervention- despite documentation from the school that she was making progress and that my concerns, as outlined in great detail, were stated in writing, and received by the school guidance counselor as "valid concerns." The fact that I did not ignore the failings of the 504 implementation prior to seeking an IEP was seen BY THE JUDGE as proof of my negligence.  After the first hearing back in August of 2019, the judge actually ordered us to follow ALL SCHOOL RECOMMENDATIONS, even if NY State parental protections allow for parents to offer, refuse, or withdraw consent for services at any time.  

I wish Mr. Levine the very best of luck in these worrisome times.  I hope he and his parents remain healthy, and that his son does, also.  And I hope that his son, Matt, grows up enough to see the error in his judgment, an enter adulthood better prepared than if his father had given in and let him potentially bring a deadly virus into the very heart of his family. 

AKWA Newsletter article for Aquatic Exercise Association, Aug./Sept. 2018

AEA Spotlights:

Featuring Bridget M.M. Simpson

September of 2018 marks nineteen years of my certification with AEA.  2018 also marks nineteen years that I have been an open water swimmer. In August of 2016, I started planning to swim the 32 mile length of Lake George, here in New York State.  I live in Ticonderoga, and have been enjoying the local beach since buying my house here a few years ago.  When I first considered the solo (meaning it I would swim alone, not be part of an event or race, but have boat support), I wasn’t sure how I would prepare for the miles, especially since the lakes around here freeze in the winter.  I started to think about the first woman to do the swim back in 1958:  Diane Struble likely didn't have access to winter swimming pools.  

I worked out a plan including weights, running & walking, and hiking up and down Mt. Defiance (going up is 1.1 mile, and takes me about 20 minutes on a good day). I’d use my free Mondays to increase my activity time span-  staying in motion during my daughter’s entire school day, and planning for up to 24 hours of motion by spring.  I was able continue swimming into October until the water was 55F and the air temperatures were in the 40s. The fall foliage was stunning.

On December 5, I treated myself to a day pass at Vermont Sun Fitness in Middlebury.  I had been a substitute aqua instructor for them in the past, so it was nice to see familiar faces, and let them know I still had enough flexibility to sub once in a while.  I had a great swim, and on my way out, I got myself to a punchcard so I could come back on my Monday days off, and maybe a weekend morning now and then.  Even a little winter swimming after over ten years without any was going to be great.  

The drive home to New York took about 50 minutes.  It was a lot of car time for even a few hours of swim time, but in light of my big goal, it was a worthwhile investment, at least a few times a month.  When I got home, I had a phone message from the owner of Vermont Sun.  Shelly said she needed a regular Monday aqua instructor for a long standing 8:30 class.  My daughter goes to school at about 8:00, and Shelly was willing to move the class to 9:00 so I could teach.  I was thrilled!  I had missed teaching a regular class over the past few years, and it was for just this sort of opportunity that I had worked so hard to maintain my credentials.  A benefit of this job is membership.  There was potential for my one class a week to lead to more aqua classes and swim lessons, but for the next several months, my solo swim preparation was a priority.      

On December 19, I taught my aqua class, then swam four miles.  By April 14, I could swim 15 miles at a time.  My muscles had worked hard, but largely because of the aqua fitness classes, and the aqua arthritis class I sometimes subbed for, I was able to put them through a full range of motion.  Throughout my training, I was able to prevent the potential injuries and pain I might have been at risk for had I only been swimming.

Many of my participants are retired,  and we talked about how I was going to be the oldest swimmer to swim the 32 miles of Lake George to date.  I was turning 50 in October, 2017.  We talked about many of the women of open water who were doing great things during the summer of 2017, and how the oldest woman to swim the English Channel had just done it at age 66.  We talked a lot about putting age in perspective!  

I started swimming the length of Lake George on August 8, 2017, at just past 9:00pm at the Lake George Village docks.  I swam, with a boat and rotation of kayakers. My seven member support crew included my 24 year old son, two in their 50s, two in their 60s, and two in their 70s.  All new to marathon swim support, and all ready to train and take it on.  I swam for 28 hours and 6 minutes, until just past 1:00am on August 10.  I used some stretches from class when I worked out leg cramps in the first hours of swimming, and I had very little stiffness in the subsequent days.  My main physical impact was a week long case of jet lag, and an unusual hunger/satiety pattern.  Maybe 28 hours of an abdominal workout doesn't let you hold your usual amount of food, no matter how hungry you feel before eating.  I found myself sitting down to a sandwich with a great appetite, and only able to finish half.  

Since cutting back on the intensity of my training through the winter, I have seen a weight gain, but I’m staying calm about it.  I knew it was coming, and I know that as I gear up for another summer of marathon swimming, I will build my miles and impact my metabolism and body composition.  Using exercise for weight loss or management is best when the exercise is something you take on as a lifestyle component, not just a means to a goal.  Much as I would love to maintain my ability to log 20 miles a week year round, it is not an option right now.  Maybe when I am in my 60s!             

I love teaching aqua classes.  The support and camaraderie is priceless.  As important as time in a class or fitness center is, it is also important to take what you do there out into your life as an integrated routine of wellness.  My aqua fit classes enhance my swimming, both in the pool and in the lake, but they also enhance my routine quality of life and wellness.  Motions and postures I focus on in class get more attention throughout the day on land.  

Since my swim, a common comment is, “I could never swim that far.”  I always ask, “Do you want to?”  You get to pick what you value, what you enjoy.  I’m gearing up for another summer of marathon swimming, and I know that the time spent in class and preparing for class is time well spent- for any goal.  Is there something you have always wanted to try?  Now is your chance for your big adventure!

This article was reprinted with permission from AEA.

Happy birthday to me!

 I’m A Fabulous 50!

I’ve been looking ahead to 50 for a while, and have had some great adventures getting ready.  Someone made a comment about getting decrepit as we get older, but honestly, I started having back problems when I was 17, and have had several flare ups over the years, so mobility issues aren’t aging issues for me. 

Swimming has been a large part of my life over the past 30 years, increasingly so recently.  Long before I knew how to swim properly, I could turn cartwheels across any lawn, bike around the block for hours, stand on my head to watch television, and dream of the Olympics.  I loved learning to ride horses- Western, English, and bareback with just a halter and lead rope to guide a pony.  Between bikes and my feet, and the occasional bus pass, I was able to get where I wanted to go long before learning to drive.  

About a year ago, my big plan to Face Fifty took shape.  I worked on getting more fit, swimming into the fall to prepare for cold water, hiking and jogging to gain strength and endurance, and paying attention to basic mobility strategies.  When I spent all night watching the 2016 election unfold, I decided and declared at sunrise that I would spend an entire night doing something that would make me feel a sense of accomplishment by morning, and I promised myself that somehow, I would find a way to spend an entire night swimming.  

As I did laps up and down Mt. Defiance, I felt stronger, and knew that any miles I could do on land would make water miles easier.  I was able to tolerate a chill on my skin in air and water as long as I was warm inside.  When I started building swim miles, I kept track of distance and pace.  I had two big swim goals for the year— the 32 miles of Lake George, and a 10K swim in Hague.  My training had to reflect both goals.  I also made sure that my plan allowed for regular life.  I still had to work, and I still have a daughter at home.  A few workouts were cut short as the spring weather called, and I headed out to get my wee girl and I could find a playground, take a road trip, or go kayaking together.

As laps piled up, I recalled songs in my head.  I listened to more music on the radio and CDs in the car than I had in years.  I took note of the ages of some of the fabulous swimmers reaching their goals as I trained— women in their early 30s, and mid 60s. Goals were huge— oldest collective age of an English Channel crossing relay team, oldest swimmers to do the Oceans 7 challenge, someone attempting the first double crossing of the North Channel, someone trying the first Quadruple crossing of the English Channel.  Even when some of those goals were not achieved as hoped when attempted, just knowing someone has the nerve to aim for them is amazing to see.  

Of the seven who provided boat and paddle support for my Lake George solo swim, ages ranged from 20s to 70s.  Not an old person in the bunch!  What we all lacked in experience with a swim of that magnitude, we made up for in enthusiasm, willingness to work, and teamwork.  We had our moonlit night, we had the best weather forecast that worked with everyone’s schedule, and we did it.  Surprise storm and all.   (Details of the Solo swim and Hague 10K in other blog posts— enjoy!)

So, I spent a solid year facing 50.  Now I’m here.  Where to go next?  Because being finished isn’t an option.  I have years of 50s to play with! Several challenges have wandered through my head over the past few years. Lake George may have seemed too enormous to seriously consider, but clearly enormous dreams can happen.   I can go the distance.  Maybe I’ll see what I can do with sprints, in terms of gaining speed.  I’ve done triathlon, and may again.  I’ve run the 5K Freihofer’s race, and may again.  I miss riding my bike, and think about the Erie Canal trails that span New York State, and other “tracks to trails” options.  Mt. Defiance is a nice hike for me, sometimes a few times at once.  Will I look at other hikes?  No reason not to.  I once hiked up Santis, the highest peak in Appenzell- a canton in the Swiss Alps (2500M), with no idea what I was getting into.  I had sneakers and a tote bag- there may have been yarn.  

I’ll be looking for chances to coach or paddle for other swimmers with big dreams.  I’ll also look at some of the really cool swims, both here in New York State, and further afield.  In the Hudson: 20 Bridges & 8 Bridges.  In Arizona: SCAR- an event of marathon swims in each of four lakes.  In Pittsburg:  Three Rivers Marathon Swim.  In North Carolina: Swim Charleston.  In Tennessee:  Swim the Suck River.  

Why would I stop now?  

What’s on your list of adventures?

Hague 10K!

I felt good about this swim right from the start.  After the first few strokes, the water felt ideal— even though it was the same temperature that totally chilled me on my solo a few weeks before.  I was able to spot the buoys, and I felt strong— VERY unlike the last time I staggered by Hague!  The first lap took me about 52 minutes, and I felt steady, so was hopeful that I could finish in under the 4 hours— maybe 3:45??  In training, I can usually manage 6 miles in about that.  The last .2 to make a 10K always needs to be considered, but that isn’t even 1/4 mile, which I can usually manage in 8 or 9 minutes.  

The wind did kick up— I was very aware of it on laps 2 and 3.  Lap two took a bit longer, due to spotting challenges and the effort of going into the wind— especially at a slight angle, which knocks me off course more than straight on.  I did some ocean swimming the weekend before, and really love swimming in chop, so I wasn’t too worried, but the return trip of lap 2 wasn’t enough faster than the outbound leg of it to keep my pace on track— I took a full hour, leaving very little margin for error on the second half.  Lap 3 was as challenging, but I felt great— I felt strong, fast, consistent.  I may not have BEEN fast, but feeling powerful is my priority.  

I knew that there was a real risk that I would once again miss the cut off for lap 4, but I was ok with it— this year.  I had maintained a very solid pace, I had stayed focused, and I knew I was giving it my absolute best effort.  I was not hungry, I wasn’t distracted by a full bladder (last year, I hadn’t been able to deal with that while swimming, but yes, I trained for that this summer!), and I was not tired.  I was becoming aware of the fact that my shoulders were working at full capacity and might be sore later, but in a good way.  My kick was propulsive and keeping me on a good keel.  THAT is why I swim— for that feeling of everything coming together and getting me anywhere I want to go.

So, I pulled out the stops, and did my best to barrel into the turn toward the last lap.  I headed for those yellow buoys, and didn’t see any kayakers.  Hmmm. . .   I was close.  Very close.  It could go either way.  And I really was ok with that, even knowing that I was well able to do the final lap, time constraints notwithstanding.  Shoot, if a kayaker had been willing to keep me company, I could have swum back to Ticonderoga!  It was a beautiful day.  But I digress (which was part of my problem with the swim last summer!  Will I ever learn?)

During the safety briefing, they had said that even in lap 4, being too slow could get you picked up and brought in so that the marina could open.  I felt good, but still felt the need to power my way to the turn-around.  The wind was calm, the water smoothed out, and visibility was good.  Time shifted for me the way it sometimes does in a good swim, and before I knew it, I was at the green buoy at the far end of the course.  I had been aware of very few blue capped 5K swimmers, and wondered where they all were.  I was pretty sure I was the last one on the water.  

I could see the Marine Patrol boat with its flashing lights, a few larger boats- like the one with the Swimmers in the Water sign.  I hoped that I was doing well enough that I would be allowed to finish, even if they started gathering course markers and opening the marina in my wake.  The remaining orange buoys were lined up in front of me, and I could often only see one, as it blocked the others, letting me know I was on a great course— just skimming past them with peak efficiency.  

A kayaker came along side and paddled parallel to me for a few minutes— which was a great treat!  I love being able to navigate off a kayak, and it was like having a member of Team 32 from my solo alongside!!  I still glanced at the buoys, but not as often.  It was a nice rest for my neck.  I became aware of a blue capped swimmer near me!  Just what I needed to really kick it up and power forward.  It is so empowering to be able to boost past a swimmer who had to be fresher than I was, and as great as it was to see another swimmer, it was very cool to leave her in my bubble trail.  I was able to really motor along to the green buoy and head for the finish.  Hey, you take your motivation where you find it.  

As I got to the orange buoys at the finish, I had just enough energy left to do a few strokes of Butterfly, which I like to do as a tribute to my dear friend Doris Russell— Madam Butterfly of Ellicott City, Maryland.  We used to train together when I was doing open water in Maryland and she was doing Masters Nationals and Senior Olympics.  She is currently 97, and hoping to get to Sr. Olympics in September.  Doris is awesome— she started competing with Fly at 70, and holds many age group records.  I often hear her voice in my head saying, “Keep Kicking!”  

My official time was 4:00:58.2.  Dead last of the 10K swimmers, but I’ve finished last before.  Let me tell you, finishing last on something like this is NOT a problem.  I was very happy to cheer on the two swimmers from the 5K group who finished right after I did, and to find that kayaker and say thanks.  I also found my friend Hope, who had been so supportive last year when I was coming to terms with my “7.5 K.” 

A very good day for a swim.

Bridget M.M. Simpson & Hope Mao Oehler

August 26, 2017

(Photo credit:  Mike Oehler)

(Update- Doris swam the 50 & 100 Free at Senior Olympics after missing most of the summer in the pool due to consecutive cataract surgeries.  She didn't feel like doing Fly cold turkey, but she kept kicking!  Rock on, Doris!)

Solo Swim of Lake George with Team 32

Swimming alongside my son, Quinn Simpson.

It has been quite an adventure, both the swim and the astonishing community response-- In a nutshell, as the dreaded Dickens said, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." The lake had dropped a few key degrees, which I had trained for, but I was hopeful. The first night was cool, but beautiful. Clear sky, I watched the moon rise over the mountains, and made good progress. I did look forward to the sunrise, in hopes that it would make me a bit warmer. 

The first night was so calm and clear, I thought a lot of Sarah Thomas, one lake over, making her way north in Lake Champlain after her first night was so wretched. I wished there were a way to find out how she was doing, but I loved the fact that we were swimming together. Matching diaper cream!!! Everyone should take on that style.

As beautiful as the sunrise was, and the day as it progressed, I did not notice an increase in warmth-- in fact, daylight just let me see more clearly the goosebumps on my arms under the Desitin. I did a few sunrise strokes of Butterfly for my friend Doris Russell back in Maryland-- in her mid 90s, and USMS record holder for a few fly events in her recent age groups. I knew it wasn't going to be an option at the end.

We had a second boat to shuttle in a morning kayaker, and two overnight kayakers departed.  I started daydreaming about warm soup and pizza, one of the men on the boat, Tom, mentioned bringing a Bunsen burner! He warmed up some of my son's blue Gatorade for me-- totally disgusting, but warm. It offered momentary comfort-- and showed how very supportive Team 32 was. 

I could tell it was a beautiful day from the sunshine, and the fact that the team kept taking off jackets and lounging in t-shirts.  Mid-afternoon of August 9, we hit a squall. I worried about thunder, and swam harder to manage the waves and wind. The boat had to back away a bit, but my son Quinn hit his stride as a kayaker- navigating the waves, keeping me on course. I could see him really come into his own, and was so glad he had come to be part of the team. The silver lining of the storm was that I was warm, but knew I could not maintain that pace and warmth for long. 

When Jim C. paddled to the group near Hague to take on the last leg of my swim, he had two water bottles of chicken noodle soup!!! YES!!!!! Warm, warm, warm. He said to take the cap off to get the noodles and chicken, but I had ingested enough lake water by that time (and the first thing I teach beginners is NEVER drink the water- it has feet in it.), and I only drank the broth through the squeeze cap. I was aware of people boating and paddling closer to see what was going on, and Quinn waving people away so they didn't cross my path.

Knowing I was in the Hague area was a mixed blessing. I had swum while Marsha paddled from the Hague beach to Ticonderoga weeks prior in 4:20, and figured I'd need an extra hour to get totally to Diane's Rock, and more to account for tiredness. I could see Anthony's Nose (a sort of peninsula I had to go around) in the distance, and thought I might still finish by full dark. But I just couldn't make progress toward Anthony's blasted Nose. My original training plan involved a progression past 15 miles to 20 and 25, but life happens, and I wasn't able to do more than split a 25 mile swim across about 36 hours. I knew it was a risk, and the last section of the swim might have gone better had I realized a few things would shift for me beyond a certain point.

Things that changed in the second half, or at least last third- I wanted the paddlers much closer, and didn't care where the main boat was. I wanted to throw up often, but worked at keeping steady to not alarm my very novice crew. Letting it go and starting with fresh food might have given me a bit of a boost. My feeding plan was great in the first half, as it mirrored training. Having more time for longer swims would have been smart, but I certainly learned a lot in this swim. (Happy to share, not doing it again.) I was very aware that I was hallucinating, but figured that as long as I knew it, I was ok. I'd take a breath and see black spray paint graffiti on the sky over a paddler's head, and it would be gone in the next breath. My eyes started closing before darkness fell on the second night.

When I finally passed that blasted Nose, and was at Rogers Rock, I knew I was within what should have been two hours. I have no idea of the real time, but it was likely closer to four by the time I got to Diane's Rock. I was shifting to breaststroke and side stroke periodically, and my freestyle count had gone from 55 at the start to in the 30s at the end. But I was moving, and although people who had seen me swim could tell I was very slow, I felt solid for the last stretch while doing freestyle. Odd. But I was flanked by Quinn on my left, and Jim C. on my right. Quinn would yell (I had earplugs), "MOM! Eat this- you need solid food." and hand me a small bite sized piece of a protein bar. Sassy lad, eh? And I was a good Mom and did not spit it into the lake, no matter how my stomach felt. Alternately, Jim would just reach a soup bottle toward me, and I'd roll over to drink some and then swim on.

Rogers Rock to Diane's Rock passed in a muddled blur, and I had no idea that people were following me in boats, on docks, lining the beach to cheer, and posting all over Facebook about my progress. Many people told me of going from one point to another to keep up. I remember the bright lights of the Baldwin boat launch, and very little else. When I got to Diane's Rock, I slipped and climbed and scrambled my way clear of the water, and hit the stop button on my watch. 28:06. Quinn was kayaking to the end, the boat with his iPhone was back a bit in deeper water to avoid rocks, and so the tracker kept going until he got to it.

I had to scramble back into the channel to climb out a few feet away onto my friend Joan's property-- where family and friends had gathered at her "point" nearby. I was bundled up, someone said it was after 1:15am, and I saw Jim Beaty's boat just past where I was sitting, but did not see any of my team beyond Quinn that night. It was late, everyone needed to get sleep, and I think we were all glad to be in Ticonderoga, and not have to drive from Lake George Village. I had a lovely shower in Joan's house, stopped by a few days later with all sorts of cleaning supplies to make up for the totally rude mess I made (although Mom and my aunt, Martha cleaned it up, and Joan said not to worry about the carpet). Really???? How to be a good guest? Ew. Once I was home, my own garden took a hit before I was settled on that front. Yes-haw. TMI? Your turn may come.

I was up and about the next day, and my son was my driver, as I was feeling a bit loopy. I had jet lag for most of a week- couldn't sleep at night, tried to nap. Got really hungry, but couldn't eat much. Weird.

I was thrilled to hear about Sarah's astonishing triumph-- and glad to see familiar faces at the Betsy Owen's swim in Lake Placid the following Saturday. I wasn't setting any personal best times, but I did the 2 & 1 mile swims and felt great. I knew I needed to keep moving, and going to that swim helped. I really hope I can pull off a 10K this weekend. It's a grudge swim-- it turned into a 7.5 K last summer, but I'm hoping I've done the miles at such a consistent pace for up to 10 miles that I make the cut off for the last loop.

There has been an overwhelming outpouring of support, and I'm still hearing stories of people who came out at all hours to be a part of it. Even this post from Mike, I just saw this morning. In a town where high school football is king, I was on the McDonald's sign, and had August 10 proclaimed Bridget Simpson Day. (No break on my taxes, but there were pretty flowers!). Someone I teach swimming with is planning to focus her daily swims and work toward a 5 or 10K next summer. How cool is that?

I likely had the single most inexperienced team to undertake a swim of this magnitude since Webb swam the Channel in 1875, but we did it!!!! Happy dance!!!! Team 32 got it together and set the bar high. And they were very good sports when I took so much longer than hoped.

Team 32

Jim Beaty- pilot                             

Tom Cunningham- main observer and recorder, backup pilot

Quinn Simpson- backup observer and recorder, tech support for Tracker software

Janet Lawrence- back up pilot, shuttle captain, kayaker

Kayakers:  Virginia Westbrook, Janet Lawrence, Marsha LaPoint, Quinn Simpson, Jim Cunningham