January 22, 2012

Prelude
Swimming was such a sore subject for me after the 2000 Olympics, and the disappointment of that flu episode around my main event spiraled a cascading set of events from the Spanish Federation and Olympic committee that culminated in me suddenly quitting. I felt so much was left unfinished, but once I quit, I quit for good. I didn’t go to a pool for years. In fact for an entire decade. Except for spending time at our community pool on the Summers with the kids, nothing. Just leisure swimming.
It was October 2009 when I looked at myself in the mirror and thought to myself “who is this guy”. I was overweight and unmotivated. I joined the gym, got in some decent shape running and lifting, but it was around late December of 2009 that I hit the pool, just for some short swims no more than twice a week. 30 minutes or so.
Come February 2010 I decided to do the swimming a little more seriously. The running and weights had helped me loose weight, but now it had been stagnant. So I hit the pool more consistently for the sole purpose of losing some more weight. I started shedding the pounds and got more and more into it and soon enough I was doing 5-6k a workout (M, T, Th, Fri). Just 4 workouts a week, an hour and 15 minutes each. No more than 5 hours of swimming a week. I used to do more than that a day!
In any case, I had lost more weight, and was swimming decently, but my frame of mind had changed and I was actually enjoying it. No pressure, no parents involved, no sponsors to worry about, no worries what so ever. I think enough time had passed from the Sydney Games to heal some of the psychological wounds. I was feeling real good and I felt I needed a little something.
At this point I had made good friends with Bill Saar, who swam in the lane next to me. 20 years my senior, we were very much alike in regards to many things in life. His brother Doug has been doing the Bay Swim for 20 years and Bill suggested I do it. I thought why not. Let’s have some fun. I’ve always wanted to do open water swimming. Got in touch with Doug who guided me through the registration process. So by the Fall of ’10 I signed up for the Great Chesapeake Bay Swim. I had tons of questions and concerns (I’m such a perfectionist for details), but Linda Toretsky was super in answering my questions and helping me get a good sense of what to expect from the race. Linda runs Lin-Mark Computer Sports, Inc., a highly recognized computer sports-timing company that does the timing for the Bay Swim.
I was all set for the 2011 edition of the Great Chesapeake Bay Swim, which took place June 12.
Leading Up to the Race
The race would take place on Sunday, June 12, 2011. The Friday prior I started my race diet. I had worked my way down to 195 lbs, but over the course of Friday and Saturday I gained two pounds from all the carbs and pasta I was devouring. I had been doing plenty of stretching, fluids and now I had a “reserve” of energy for the race. I was feeling pretty good, but quite nervous about the race. I had been told horror stories about the start of the race (or any open water/tri race for that matter). Doug had essentially told me to sprint to clear the crowd of elbows and feet that had left him bloodied in the past.
Morning of the Race
The race was to begin at 11:30am if I recall correctly, but I wanted to be there early to get registered and settled, get the lay of the “land”. I was up at 6:45am, headed to Dunkin’ Donuts and got me a couple of bagels (plain, nothing on them) and left Frederick driving down I-270. Traffic was non-existent, but I didn’t want to speed and start off the day badly. It was sunny, I was blasting through my playlists in the car and soon enough was on the Washington beltway making my way to Rt. 50 East. The drive was very calm and passed without incident. As the scenery started to change I was getting both excited and nervous realizing the challenge to come. I had no expectations of placing well, simply doing my best and hopefully having fun.
The race itself starts on the Western shore at Sandy Point State Park, and finishes 4.4 miles later at Hemingway’s Marina at the Bay Bridge Marina, on the Eastern shores of the Twin Bridges. However, you need to drive over the bridge and park your car at the finish side of the bridge to take a shuttle bus back over the bridge to the start. It makes sense. That way you have easy access to your vehicle when you’re done, but it also helped to drive over the bridge (or not) to gauge the distance of the swim and see the finish. Winding down the bridge I could see the buoys that were set up and the little finish line.
Got the car park and saw a ton of people in the area all gearing up for the swim. Instinctively I was eyeing everyone and trying to figure out how I would match up against them. Some of the guys (and girls) looked to be in really good shape. Those were the ones I was paying attention to, sizing them up. Headed to the bright yellow school buses that would shuttle us to the starting side. Everything was well set up and was moving like clock-work. We left the parking lot and headed over the bridge, everyone in the bus clearly focused on the bridge and the distance from one end to the other. Weather was still good, water didn’t look too choppy, and we could see numerous boats out there.
Bus dropped us off and we all headed down to where the crowds had gathered. There was music blaring (thankfully classic rock) and organizers were guiding folks to the designated areas for registration and set up. Picked up my packet (swim cap and mandatory tag and timing device from Lin-Mark) and got body marked (forearms and shoulder/bicep area, both sides). It was probably a little after 9am now, found a spot in the shade by some trees. I had plenty of time, but is was good to secure a spot in the shade. It was getting really hot and humid. Tons of fluid pre-race was my goal, and two PowerBars. Got some stretching done, went down the beach and got a short warm up swim without the wet suit. The water felt warm.
Got back to my spot and decided to go looking for Doug and a bunch of his pals that had signed up for the meet too. Found them and we just had a great time hanging out waiting for the pre-race meeting to take place.
Pre-Race Meeting
Chuck Nabit, race director, conducted the pre-race meeting. We were told that the water was quite warm and he recommended that we not use wet suits because of the risk of dehydration from the heat. I had spent a decent amount of money on the suit and felt like I needed every advantage possible, so my decision was made regardless (as most others too). The current was predicted as being mild. Start of with ebb, slack and then flood at the end.
Strongly emphasized was the fact that if you were under the bridges, you were out (you’re supposed to swim between the two spans). Another strong suggestion was that if someone on a boat said you were done, you cooperate immediately so they wouldn’t have to send over the boat that had the guys with the assault rifles and guns! Hmm, noted!
Other things to note, no removing your cap or you are out of the race. Unlike FINA sanctioned races, you ARE allowed to grab onto the side of the snack boats, which are equipped with water and energy bars. If you feel like quitting or you need to be pulled out, let a support boat know, and you’ll get a ride to the DNF pier (yes, there really is a DNF pier) – the “Pier of Shame”. Some nervous laughs.
11:20am and we headed down to the beach. I was super hot now that I had the wet suit on. I had applied sun screen and a layer of BodyGlide around the arm pits and lats to protect from rashes. So I waited in the water, while staying somewhat cool and getting loose in the water.
Wave 1
Because of the number of swimmers taking part in the swim (650 total for the 4.4 mile swim), they send you out in two waves, 15 minutes apart. The first wave are for those swimmers who would complete the swim in over two hours, and the second wave is for those who would complete the swim in under two hours. That way, both waves (groups) of swimmers have a better chance of finishing in a pack. Wave 1 was set to start at 11:30am.
However, they gave Craig Dietz a head start. Craig was born without limbs and swam this race on his back, outfitted with a flipper on his lower torso. What an inspiration. Sadly, he managed to swim past the 4 mile marker but was cut short of the finish by the storm that moved in. More on that later.
I’m in the water watching Craig get his start and see everyone around clapping and cheering him on. Promptly at 11:30 wave 1 takes off. I get a couple of last minutes strokes in and head up to the beach to join the ranks of wave 2.
Wave 2 – My Race Begins!
The start is fast approaching (11:45am) and I am nervous, but standing next to Doug and his pals we’re joking around and passing time. I have no idea how I’ll do – but a calm starts to settle in. My game face is on. My mental focus kicks in and I am one with the race and the surroundings. I take note of the people around me and how that will affect the start of the race and the initial sprint into the water. This is a shit load of bodies about to go all out into the water for a 4.4 mile race!
I don’t even hear the horn go off, but I see people taking off so I do the same. In a split second I’m running into the water and diving into my stroke. Within 4 strokes I have pulled ahead of those around me and I am trying to get my bearings. Most of the crowd is to my left. I started the race pretty far down the right side of the beach, closest to the bridge. Doug had told me the fast racers are down the right side. I breathe to the left normally, but I switch to right breathing so I can gauge what’s going on. The crowd on the right is definitely faster with a bunch of bodies pulling ahead. I decide to take pursuit of these guys and see what happens.
Probably within 45-60 seconds I am caught up with these fast swimmers and notice that those behind pose no immediate threat, so in my mind I’m thinking pace yourself, the initial sprint is over with and the most dangerous part is done with.
I am so used to lane swimming and staying within the lane lines and having clear water. This is different. Can barely see my fingers as I’m pulling my way through the water and I have no bearings. I am constantly raising my head looking ahead for the buoys that mark the entry into the spans. I’m thinking to myself I am going to strain my neck if I continue the race this way.
Because we start on the northern side of the bridge, we have to swim under the northern span (westbound lanes of traffic) to make our way onto the middle of the two bridges. Once here, you are officially swimming between the world’s largest lane lines. This is an amazing view and hard to describe. Once you make it under the northern span, you take a hard left to swim in the direction headed east. The spans rise on either side of you to what appears to be an endless distance. Thankfully, with the two spans on either side of me, I can use them as reference and can put a momentary end to the constant head raising.
At the beginning, the spans are curved and it seems to take forever to get to the point where the two spans straighten out. Once you get to this point, you better have a grip on things because looking down the long way ahead will either completely discourage you or get you revved up. I was the latter, fortunately.
I had started the race very conservatively, with a very long stroke cycle, but now was getting into a comfort zone and was picking up my pace. My breathing is good, technique is solid and confidence is high. I start passing swimmers from wave one. They were wearing the yellow swim caps, we from wave two had the orate swim caps. I just go into cruise control and rely more on my psychological strength than on my physical strength (at 5 hours of swimming a week I was not/am not that great in shape).
The Tide is NOT so Mild Anymore
While the current had started off mildly at first, it is starting to get choppy. Good thing I don’t get sea sick, ’cause I’m sure my wife would be laying her guts out on the water, along with a bunch of other souls. The further into the channel I made it, the choppier it got. I had been in cruise control for a while when suddenly I realized I was almost crashing into swimmers I was passing.
A quick glance to either side and up and I realized these swimmers from wave 1 were swimming diagonally. I am but yards away from being under the southern span of the bridge (eastbound lanes). The current has become so strong it is forcing us all southbound. I switch gears and start swimming diagonally myself. I realize it is taking a lot of energy to simply make any progress forward. I have a massive concrete column to my left that I am using for reference and I am moving ever so slowly forward.
I struggle for quite some time not sure how long I can mentally and physically continue this. I just barely cleared the 2 mile buoy marker. I have half a race left and going nowhere.
I realize we’re all in the same scenario. I compose myself and embrace the pain. I embrace the struggle to breathe, the constant water in my face, the low visibility, the feet and elbows from those I am passing from wave 1 and just keep at it. I think back at the hours of training, setting aside any notion of the conditions, the waves, the 5,000 extreme temperature changes (ice cold to warm water in split seconds) and just stay focused.
I keep at it for what seems like an eternity. I’m past the marker for mile 3, and keep going. The breathing is quite labored now, my asthma kicking in and taking a grip on my lungs and throat. Stay focus. Don’t let the panic kick in. I have a jet ski 20 yards away from me should anything happen. There’s still people ahead of me, no idea if they have yellow or orange caps, but I stay focused on trying to close the gap. I think of my kids and wife, sing along to some G N’ R and Metallica, continue to make headway.
The spans are now coming closer to the water surface, signaling the approach to the western shore. I’m thrilled to think that the race is close to an end, but still struggle a tad. I am so disoriented. Where are the lane lines! Why is the water so dark. I can’t see the bottom!
The Beach is NOT That Close
Finally, I am nearing the buoys that signal the columns of the southern span I have to swim under to make my final approach to the finish. Having turned a sharp right to swim under the span and between the two columns, I take a sharp left to make my way to the beach. I see the finish area, a distant speck in the distance and I find myself cursing Doug for these last several hundred yards seem longer than he had described.
Doug, bless him, had described a short sprint to the end once you cleared the bridge. That was not the case. It’s a good 400 yards or so I’d say (difficult to gauge when you’ve been swimming for an hour and a half and are a tad disoriented). But I dig in, take comfort in pretending to race the JetSki that is to my right side and the cars to my right, imagining that they are cheering wildly for me to finish.
It seems to take forever, but slowly and surely I am getting closer to the finish. I see the orange netting at the finish line. I head left, but see a volunteer signal for me to go right. It takes a tremendous amount of energy to switch gears on the fly like that, but finally feel the sand on the tips of my hands and stand on my feet. I should have kept swimming a couple of yards further, ’cause the water is still too deep to walk comfortably.
But at last I emerge from the water onto the beach and I am ecstatic at having finished the race. What an experience. I am tired but I am so hooked on this race I am already planning for the 2012 race (I am confirmed to take part in the 2012 race on June 10).
The staff are awesome, helping me out of the wetsuit (it is so damn hot!!) and I make my way up the HILL (!!) to the snack area. I down two bottles of water immediately and grab some food and more water.
I find the wife and kids who can’t believe I completely ignored them as I walked right past them when I made my way to the snack area. “Honey, I think I am a little out of it” I said. She could tell from the blank gaze in my eyes.
What a great race and what fun, despite the pain and effort. But now I know what to expect in the 2012 race, although conditions will be unknown. That’s the difference. In the pool you always swim in a controlled environment. Open water you never have the same conditions. Temperature, surge, current, other swimmers, always varies. It’s quite a different challenge.
Post Race
There were several sad events that took place though. I am sad to say that Grahame Rice, 43, died from an apparent heart attack. He was a father of two and had been cleared by his doctor to take part in the race. May you rest in peace.
Also, a disappointing storm made it’s way over the bay (hence the sudden change in current as we all swam), forcing some 73 swimmers to be pulled out, including Craig Dietz. The US Coast Guard do a phenomenal job of maintaining safety and a great many thanks go out to them and to the race organizers.
Thank you for the experience of a lifetime. See you all in 2012 for more fun!