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.

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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.