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

The Swimmer's Moon

Posted to my Facebook page on July 25

Did anyone notice the moon tonight? A wee sliver, just starting to grow. Keep an eye on it-- when it is full, I'll be swimming the lake.  :-D

I am very fortunate to have a core of people willing to park themselves on a boat, some doing shifts in a kayak, for hours and hours. It has been compared to watching grass grow. Well, from my vantage point, if my goggles are clear, I'll be watching the sky dim as the last glow of sunset fades,. The moon will be out, ready to rise and move in the sky, stars will come out, hopefully only a few clouds will be lit by the moon, not obscuring the view. 

During my early morning long swims, I've watched the sun rise past the mountains and trees, letting me see a clear view when I breathe away from the glare of the sun once it clears the obstacles. I've swum miles and miles as the sun has risen higher, to the point where the glare fades and I can see a view in all directions. I'll have many hours to mark the progress of the sun across the sky, and my progress past the stunning landscape that frames the lake. Oh, for a clear, sunny day! 

With calm water, and minimal wind (from the south if at all, please!), I should be watching the sky turn colors with sunset, and maybe land at Diane's Rock while the mountains are still backlit by a deepening blue, still lighter than the silhouette of the mountains. Maybe the moon won't have risen quite yet. . . 

We shall see. 

I do love to swim with the Moon.

------------------------

Thoughts on August 5- 

I've had a few night swims with the bright moon in the past few days.  I love the way it lights up any clouds that aren't able to hide it, and the way it shines through the shallow water in places so I can see submerged rocks and even some of the weeds that are not my favorite things to swim through.  The moon also shines on anyone paddling, and helps everyone stay on course.  

We are likely changing the start of the solo swim from August 7 to August 8, to avoid the worst of the rainy forecast.  I really want anyone on the boat or in a kayak to have the most pleasant time possible.  Torrential downpours are not fun if you are not the one swimming.  

Lost & Found?

No. Lost & Not Found-- Sorry Lake George!!!

If anyone out in the middle of Lake George near Rogers Rock finds a small, clear plastic, semi buoyant nose clip, it’s mine. Oops.

And where were my spare clips? Back in my car. Oops.

Yes, I packed snacks to practice consuming, a spare cap in case my new one didn’t work out, and a water bottle. I started for the lake as Judy Walker was getting her kayak situated, and had to go back for my earplugs (don’t want swimmer’s ear to come back!), but did not grab a spare clip.

It was a beautiful morning— lots of blue sky, some clouds still tinged by the sunrise, the water felt great, and we were off on adventure. After about 50 minutes, I figured it was a good time to practice getting something from my snack pack. Judy go the lid of my drink bottle as I got my clip off and tucked it on the hair elastic I wear on my wrist in lieu of pockets. After a quick guzzle, I went to get the clip back and it wasn’t there. Did I say oops??? Big oops.

I started wearing a nose clip a few years ago when all fresh water gave me sinus infections after swimming, and chlorine impacted my breathing. It has made a world of difference. Now, after 50 minutes with the wind at our backs, I needed to swim back to the beach with my face out of the water rather than risk a sinus infection by bedtime. Had this happened during my marathon swim, I would have just kept going and risked it, hoping to make it to the end of the swim without consequences. For today- backstroke, sidestroke, and a bit of breaststroke.

Judy was a sport, continuing to maintain a very helpful position for me to navigate from. Seeing the sky was fun, as was a bit of chat while we meandered back.  Judy asked, “What do you think about on these long swims?” There’s a question! Everything, nothing, songs, stories, snippets & phrases, occasionally an old argument if I need to power up for some reason.

I became aware of the sounds of my breathing, normally muffled by exhaling into the water. I still got a bit of water on my face, but after a while, my throat got very dry. Not typical while swimming. My main thoughts were to maintain good in-line stabilization from my neck through my spine, and to vary my strokes often enough to give different muscle groups a break. My front crawl muscles are very well toned and ready for action, but moving in different ways works different muscles, and I wanted to avoid soreness later on. I’ve been working on varying my stroke for a few minutes now and then to be ready for anything in the swim, but a straight out mile of backstroke wasn’t something I was trained for. So far, so good. I’m more aware of my trapezius muscles (across my upper back) than usual, since front crawl tends to get more power from the latissimus dorsi in the mid and lower back.

Once we got back to the beach, Judy loaded up her kayak to start her day on land, and I got one of the spare clips from my car and got back in the lake to do a few beach laps. I was feeling the muscles that had gotten an unusual workout, and wanted to stretch out and keep warmed up for a bit. I did about 3/4 of a mile, feeling fine, and then headed home for a resting day. I’m expecting to swim a lot both days of the weekend, but likely not do huge miles much past Wednesday.

So far, I’m breathing easily, although a bit sniffly. I’ll be keeping Vick’s handy, in case of any stuffiness.

This is why we practice. And one more example of why it is good that I’m starting the marathon swim at night- plenty of time to check and recheck my swim packs for the kayakers.

The face of Rogers Rock from the Ticonderoga Beach at sunrise.

Not Your Typical Event Fundraiser

I have been asked by many if my solo swim of Lake George is a fundraiser, like so many athletic events out there.  Rather than narrow it down to a single cause, I would like to invite anyone interested in my effort to consider supporting any cause of personal significance.  It’s a DIY fundraiser!  Don’t send me anything.  Feel free to name a cause you support in the comments of my Facebook page- can we get a list of 32 causes?  Specific or general.  Let this list serve to bring attention to your cause or causes.  Just a list— no need to announce a pledge.  

There are a few groups & causes which resonate with me as I swim:

The Food Pantry

Boy, can I relate to needing help getting food!  So many families depend on access to a local food pantry to make ends meet.  While swimming, people on my support boat will need to toss or hand me water bottles and food products that I can consume on the go.  It isn’t easy to ask for help, but I can’t do it alone.  Local and regional food pantries are a great resource for millions of people nation wide.  

Hanna's Hope Fund

This foundation addressed the lack of treatment available when one family had a child receive a diagnosis of Giant Axonal Neuropathy (GAN).  GAN is an orphan disease- it affects so few people that funding research is not profitable. Hannah’s Hope Fund set goals and faced uncertain outcomes, and after years of work (because when you have a sick child, your first thought is to establish a world class research team, network, and bring about clinical trials, right???), Hannah’s family has kept going, and clinical trials started last year.  I have thought of Hannah and her family on several of my longer training swims, and it always helps me get through rough patches.

The Arlene Kuhner Memorial Scholarship

Go Seawolves!  Dr. Kuhner was the chair of the English Department at the University of Alaska, Anchorage, and my first advisor when I declared my major.  I took many courses from Dr. Kuhner, from Renaissance Drama to the contemporary short fiction of Canadian women authors.  Lap after lap, I often run lyrics of songs and poems in my mind, and when I can’t recall verses I once knew, I envy Dr. Kuhner’s effortless recall of what seemed to be the entire literary canon, verbatim.  Has an educator or school made a difference to you?  Pay it forward. Get involved.  

 YMCA, The American Red Cross, US Masters Swimming

I learned to swim properly at a YMCA day camp over the span of several summers, working my way from Minnow to Shark.  I remember thinking that being a Water Safety Instructor (WSI) would be the coolest thing ever.  After almost 30 years,  I have taught hundreds of swimmers of all ages and skill levels- as it turns out being a WSI really is the coolest thing ever.  My cousin, Erin, has done YMCA swim-a-thons with her team to raise money for swim scholarships, and is now a lifeguard willing to help with my swim! (And likely try it herself one day.)  

The Environment

I swim in that water! I want it to be clean.  I want to see to the bottom where it is shallow, I want to see the funny fish and turtles swimming around.  I like that it tastes good.   I love seeing how the landscape of the Adirondacks frame the lake, and how the mists rise off it in the morning.  Since the swim will take me about 24 hours, I’m looking forward to the stars at night, away from the light pollutions of cities.  I’m also looking forward to a lot more open water swimming in many more bodies of water in the future.  Clean water.  Healthy water.  The cool thing about supporting the environment is that you can pledge to save money, and it helps the cause!  

Do you groove on sports?  Support a team or player.  Want to be more active?  Pledge to spend 32 minutes a few times a week doing something- walk, stand instead of sit, dance.  You name it!  

Here is my list so far: 

The Food Pantry

GAN

Education

YMCA/Red Cross

The Environment

And how about:

St. Mary's School

Your alma mater

A predetermined sum shared among street performers

A visit to a nursing home to say hi

Animal shelters

 Libraries

Bonus points for me if what is important to you motivates me to power through the water more. 

Thank you!  

Marathon Math

32 miles (the length of Lake George) = 56,320 yards = 1,126.4 laps in a standard 50 yard pool.  

The most commonly accepted estimate for a mile in a pool is 36 laps, or 1800 yards (A real mile is 1,760 yards).  So, 32 pool miles = 57,600 yards.  That is 1,280 yards more than real miles!  (Wow- I should be ready for anything, right?)

Sometimes I can swim 50 yards in 50 seconds.  That is 2 miles an hour.  

In a magical world, I could maintain that to swim 32 miles in 16 hours.  

Reality check:

540 laps (15 pool miles) took me about 10:14.  

The first two miles took me 1:12, the last two took me 1:27.  

If all 32 miles are at a rate of 2 miles every hour and a half, I can expect to swim for 24 hours.  

A portion of each mile will likely be spent slowing down or stopping as briefly as possible for food and/or water, as well as adjusting goggles, maybe replacing a nose clip, changing swim caps, or rubbing on more Destine. Whether I add 15 seconds or 2 minutes of non-swim time to my miles, I could add anywhere from 8 minutes to more than an hour of in-water time to my swim time.  Then, there are variables like the course from start to finish, wind, and other boat traffic.  

I am not the fastest open water swimmer by any stretch, and I’m ok with that.  I do hope to get faster as I train, but i also love swimming long distances, and right now, my priority is adding my ability to continuously swim for hours.  Since January, I have increased my long swims from just a few miles to fairly steady 8-13 mile swims.  Doing a 15 mile swim the day after a 10 mile swim was challenging, and I was a bit slower for a few weeks after.  Between now and July and August, I think it is much more reasonable that I will be able to double or triple the number of consecutive miles I manage, rather than cut my mile times by 1/3.  Dropping my mile time from 38 to 35 minutes, with the occasional 34 minute mile is reasonable, so while I may incorporate sprints into my workouts, my overriding focus is on gaining the power to swim the distance.  

I will get there. . . 

Mid-Course Correction- Ish

Ok, I was a bit late to the pool this morning and someone ELSE was already in Lane 2 (the one without the jet with warmer water at one end, and the one close enough for me to usually see the pace clock). Lane 3 was nice enough, even with the disturbing cloud of warm from the jet, so on I slogged. Yes, slogged. I took a short break after about a half mile to have a small snack, and chat with an incoming lap swimmer. Jill is nice, and good to have in a nearby lane.  She also appreciates long swims in open water.

The Lane 2 girl was motoring along in a way that made me work to keep up, which was good, even when my breakfast expired. (Waaaa.) I scanned my lap counter to see that, yes, I was slogging along. Back to laps, and after a short while, I stopped to look at my lap counter and saw 8. Huh? I had gone over 20. Oops-- I hadn't clicked out of Review, and instead of logging new laps, when I hit the lap counter button, it just reviewed the times of finished laps. So maybe I had done 3/4 of a mile? Well, that was what I decided to go with. Reset, start at zero. Move on.

So, my first complete mile took just over 38 minutes. Yikes. Nothing hurt, I wasn’t tired, I just wasn’t peppy- even with company nearby. I tried to look at it as an experiment with snacking and hydrating. Blah. Then the sun seemed to come out— at least, it looked brighter out the windows than it had. I started to think of contingency plans. My original plan of 8 miles was not feeling like it was in the cards (or lanes). It’s Sunday. I was going to be back in the pool in the morning. I had a wee girl home from school, and a few other things to do. I’d finish a bit more and head out.

Lane 2 girl was gone! Not long gone, so I moved my stuff to the end of that lane, got out, and ducked into the locker room to say hi. I also wanted to let her know how helpful she had been with her steady pace for her long workout. I’ll take all the motivation I can get! She was pleased. It’s nice when people in the pool are nice. I got back in, finished enough to feel fairly sure I had done three whole miles, and figured I’d stay later tomorrow.

I went and got a haircut, picked up a few things at the grocery store, picked up some paint chips to consider for my house, and headed home. It rained on and off on the drive home, but it stopped in time for me to do gardening and for my wee girl to play with her friends outside. The weeds have been thinned, a few plants moved to places they should enjoy more, and the compost piles are well turned. Given the rainy forecast, cutting short a sloggy swim in favor of other activities (that were actually active) was not a bad thing.

Since Friday afternoon, I have swum 9 miles. I may get 5 in tomorrow, and a few may be fast because I’ll be coaching Wendy, who is a powerhouse triathlete. Not a bad weekend. I feel on-track for my Lake George Solo swim. Fortunately, today was not the usual swim day in the pool. One of my goals for the Solo is to see how far I can go. I have to want to go. Turning training into dreaded drudgery is not going to be productive. I took a little more time between laps to visit with other swimmers, rest and let myself cool down so the water felt fresh again, and mainly have a happy time at the pool. Happy is good.  

I have a lot more training to do, and some of it will be hard, and some of it may make me sore for a few days, but I’m doing this because I want to. And when someone asked me last week why I want to do the solo swim, my first response was, “Because I can.” I’m sure of it. I have a plan- it is fluid, but I think that all things considered, a swim plan sort of needs to be fluid, eh? I need to continue building strength & endurance, try to pick up a bit of speed where I can, and continue to test what foods are most compatible before and during a swim.  

But I also have other things to do- teach swimming lessons, hike up Mt. Defiance, garden, go to the library and playground with my daughter, get my house painted, work, finish knitting a pair of socks, and finding someone willing to pilot a boat for me.  

If the idea of sitting in a boat moving at my swim speed for about 24 hours appeals to you, please get in touch. If you think of anyone you believe may groove on that, pass on my request! It is called a solo swim, but I really can’t do it alone.  

Getting A Bit Of My Own Back

When my Hague 10K swim turned into a 7.5K swim, I was very upset with myself for several reasons, but my main problem was that I lost my focus.  Live and learn.  

Missing the mark that day was hard, but it prompted me to continue to train.  I had been considering Sharkfest Boston Harbor, and finally registered for it.  I found a campground that was close enough for packing up the morning of the race, and I headed off on adventure.  

I am so glad I went to Boston.  Finding the campsite took forever, but was great once I arrived.  Finding the race venue the next morning was tricky, but I got there in plenty of time to hunt down a Starbucks for bagels, a banana, and chocolate milk.  I stashed my belongings in a secure location and waited to take a ferry to the starting point across the harbor.   

It was a cool September day, but warming in the sunshine.  All around me, people were getting into wetsuits!  Someone said the water was around 68F, which is warmer than the ocean I had been in a few weeks prior, and about what Lake George was at the time.  I wasn’t worried, but I saw fewer swimsuits as time went on.  I started to wonder how many in my age group would be wearing wetsuits.  Awards are given for both wetsuit and non-wetsuit swimmers, and it was looking like I might just stand a chance at placing in my age group!  

Jumping off a dock into chilly water isn’t my preferred way to get wet, but it’s what we had to do, and after the initial surprise of the chill, I found my bearings, and headed off past a few moored sailboats.  My goggles needed frequent attention, which was a bit frustrating, but I felt solid in the water, and kept a strong pace throughout.  Once I was able to discern the finish area, I was able to dig up a burst of energy to finish with power.  

Redemption.  

Finishing felt great.  Wearing the shirt that says “I Swam Boston Harbor” is a treat.  Getting an award for finishing third in my age for non-wetsuit swimmers was the frosting on the Boston Cream doughnut.  I was much happier ending the open water season on a positive note.  

Not everyone swimming that weekend had a good event.  

While the skies were clear in Boston, the Lake George Marathon Swim Event in upstate New York was facing a brutal weather forecast.  Due to start at 4:00pm, many solo swimmers, relay teams, kayakers, and boats set out into some of the worst wind sweeping up the lake that anyone could remember.  Chop grew into waves, boats were pushed too close and too far from swimmers, and after about 6 hours, the whole event was called off.  After months of training, and swimmers traveling from all over, the timing couldn’t have been worse.  

Upon my return to New York from Boston, I started tracking the progress of the pods of swimmers and support boats until no data was updated any longer.  A few days later, one relay team still in the area took advantage of a shift in the weather to give it a try, and they were successful.  

The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to swim Lake George.  And the more I thought about it, the more confident I became that I could do it.  I wasn't sure how, but I had a few ideas.  Reading about Diane Struble, the first person to swim a documented solo of Lake George, it occurred to me that she likely did not have access to winter swimming pools.  Maybe if I worked on increasing my time spent in motion, I could be ready for distance swims longer than what I had done before.  I walked.  I ran.  I started hiking up Mt. Defiance, sometimes once, sometimes twice.  I used some weights, I did range of motion exercises, and I researched.  

I swam in Lake George for the last time in 2016 on October 21.  I swam about two miles in water under 60F.  A few of my late season swims had been in about 55F, and I was able to tolerate the initial chill long enough to get a quarter mile behind me.  After that, I felt good.  

Really.  

Surprisingly.  

I was going to hold that thought until spring, when I could once again work on getting used to functioning in cold water, so I’d know I was ready for any cold pockets the lake might throw at me on a mid-summer night.  

For information about the swims in Hague in August:

http://www.lakegeorgeswim.com

To learn about the documented solo swims of Lake George:

http://db.marathonswimmers.org/events/lake-george/

To find a Sharkfest swim that sounds cool to you:

http://sharkfestswim.com