What I did instead of IMC today

1. Swam 3.5 miles from Caulkins landing to the Seattle side of the I-90 Bridge and back.
2. Visited a neighbor who is remodeling.
3. Read about 100 pages of the new Philippa Gregory novel.
4. Worked for a few hours.
5. Cleaned the catbox.
6. Walked on the beach at Golden Gardens with Mika.
7. Had a nap.
8. Watched Jan and Tonya looking strong on Ironman Live.
9. Looked for a recipe for waffle cones.
10. Got some closure at last.

Cold Play

There's no denying it, the lake is getting colder. Yesterday at the beach, Mike said that the buoy thermometer has dipped below 70 for the first time since early July. I'd be kidding if I said I can't tell. You'd think one or two degrees wouldn't matter, but believe me, they do.

I made three round trips to the tennis club this week without my wetsuit. The two where I chased Geoff were fairly comfortable; he is faster than I am but I can keep him within a few strokes if I try hard. Exertion translates to warmth, at least for a little while.

It's one thing to swim 40-45 minutes in this temperature, it's another to swim for 1.5 hours, which I plan to do tomorrow as a perfect training session for the 3 mile Gatorman coming up Sept 13. So I called in the expert, Brendan, who is a veteran distance open water swimmer (he swims outdoors 5-6 months per year and I don't think even owns a wetsuit) to help me through it. He suggests vaseline, a silicone cap, and, wait for it...earplugs. To wit:

I prefer the basic 'silicone wax' type ear plugs that you mold into your ears. They are basically one-use ear plugs so buy a box of a dozen or so. I get them at Rite Aid but I bet you can get them at any drug store for a couple bucks.

Other than that - the thicker 'silicone' caps are also a bit warmer. The kind that come down over your ears and cover the back of your head down to your neck. When your head is warm, you can feel a lot more comfortable.

Last thing you can do is grease up a bit - just bring a jar of vasoline and lather it on. Arm pits and joint behind your knee lose a lot of heat. Be sure and have a rag to wipe your hands off because its a mess if you get that on your goggles. It usually washes off by the end of a 3 miler.

Well, nobody ever said open water swimming was a glamorous sport.

Today I ran 35 minutes on the elliptical machine. My knee hurts, but I am sick of feeling floppy.

Secret Sunday Skinny Dippers

I am a library felon. On a fairly regular basis, Mike and I discover messages on our answering machine that go something like this. (Cue automated voice) "Karin. Maria. Gardner. This is the Seattle Public Library alerting you that you have TWO. Overdue. Items. Please return them to your neighborhood branch as fines are accumulating daily."

I am also a parking gambler. I park on downtown or Greenlake-area streets a few times per week, but rarely bother with the paid parking sticker rigamarole. Tickets are rare, and I figure if I get a $30 parking fine once or twice a year, I am still coming out ahead.

So today, as we launched from Day Street beach just as God made us, I wondered, am I racking up another small misdemeanor? It turns out that public nudity is not illegal in King County. But, ironically, I discovered that open water swimming, at a greater distance than 50 feet from shore, IS.

Good to know. I guess if we had gotten caught we could have said we were swimming so deep for modesty's sake.

I am going to resist poetry here. And simply say if you are like me, and believe the water is your true habitat, you have to try it one day. Even if you are a grown up and you think you're past this sort of childish pleasure. Believe me. You're not.

I should tell you that 3.2 miles is a long way to swim in any case -- in a wetsuit, in a swimsuit, and in, well... nothing. We were chattery and spent coming out of the water (I was shaking so hard I could barely untie our swimsuits from the buoy line at the finish, which had been secured by a kind friend earlier in the morning -- not to mention trying to wiggle into the thing when it finally came free), but I loved doing something new and so undeniably mermacious.

Carpooling

So I picked up my neighbor Geoff at 5:15 this morning on the way to the beach.

"You've gotta love swimmers, we're always on time," he said, as he folded his tall frame into the passenger seat of my Miata. "There are three things in life where promptness matters. Swimming, fishing, and going to church."

Which made me think of the relative insanity of what we do. Some would say it's nuts to leave the warmth of your bed, drive across town in the dark, jump into the lake when the water and the sky are barely more than contrasting shadows (we are sighting off dock lights for the first quarter mile or so these days), braving chop and chill and who knows what other conditions...just to partake in our delicious ritual. Today, we already had 1.5 miles behind us when the sun came up.

I can't think of much else that would get me out of bed this early, or this gladly. I think I am blessed that there is something in my life that I love enough to make me do it.

Rise up, Rise up

If you had told me yesterday (or last week, or a month ago) that things would go down at the Danskin the way they did today, I would never have believed you.

Coffee in hand, I picked up Megan at 5:15. It was still dark as we arrived at Genessee Park, where we, and over 5000 other women, had racked our bikes yesterday in anticipation of today's event, the 20th anniversary Danskin Triathlon.

Megan and I have done this race together since 1998; she has missed 2 of the 12 years anticipating the births of her kids, and one of those years she came and cheered me on. Our Danskin is meaningful on so many levels, we love this race for many of the same reasons, and some personal ones, too. One of the reasons I love it is simply that we get to spend the morning doing something that makes us feel great, and doing it together.

My game plan today was this: Rock the swim (and try to win it), spin happily on the bike, and walk the run. Though I have finished as high as third place in this race, today was going to be my day to just enjoy the ride.

Following the national anthem, the elite wave hit the water at 6:45. I used my tried-and-true system of cranking hard for the first 100 yards to shake people off my feet and carve out some space. One woman swam alongside me for that distance and perhaps a little further, but to my surprise, in less than 500 yards I was alone out there, pointed straight at the first turn buoy. I was winning the Danskin!

Well, that of course was very motivating, and the half mile swim flew by. I came out of the water first, in a solid 11:27. Then came something I bet I will never, ever forget. The hundreds of spectators lining the swim chute started yelling and cheering. Hundreds of voices. For me.

Really?

It's like those voices picked me up and carried me into the transition area and out onto the bike course. I can't even describe how powerful it was. I just can't.

"You were grinning like an idiot," said Megan later. I am not surprised.

So off I went onto the 12 mile bike course. As I headed out onto Lake Washington Boulevard, the race escort motorcycle pulled ahead of me. I followed the flashing red and blue lights out to I-90, over the bridge, through the tunnel, down to the turnaround point, up the hill...and back to the tunnel. At about mile 8, Courtenay Brown, who is 30 years old, a pro, and who eventually won the race, swept past me with her mischievous smile.

With all of this motorcycle excitement, I forgot my race strategy of "spinning on the bike." Considering I have ridden my bike 6 times all summer, I am feeling sorta zooty about the fact that I held nearly 21 mph for the 12 mile course and ended up with the 6th fastest bike split in the race.

By the time I returned to T2, my knee was throbbing, and the banana I ate before the swim had started to talk to my tummy.

But...I was in second place. The red ribbon can't give up, right? So, without giving it much conscious thought, I didn't walk the run.

"Of course you didn't," Mike said later. "We all knew you wouldn't." Really?

So I started to sort of shuffle along. And through my head went this:

And take my hand. You know I'll be there if I can. I'll cross the sky for your love. Give you what I hold dear. Hold on, hold on tightly. Rise up, rise up, with wings like eagles. You'll run and not grow weary.

That's U2. The song is "Drowning Man" which is sort of ironic.

Which made me think of this:

But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary.

That's Isaiah 40:31.

I was passed by two other athletes before finally crossing the finish line. I shuffled at a pace just under 9 minute miles. It was enough, when all was said and done, to net me a 6th place overall finish in my 12th consecutive Danskin.

Ta da.

Catch Up Drill

Eek. It has been an awfully long time since I've been here.

I am committed to reserving this space for racing and training related musings (more or less) so when Mike and I spent the last week of July in Washington DC and my focus shifted to other things, so did my blogging habit, I guess.

The trip was great. I didn't train at all while we were there, though I think we walked 5-8 miles per day, which was a good thing and a bad thing. Good, because those many steps brought us to new experiences and knowledge; bad, because all of that foot travel threw my knee back to about April from a recovery standpoint. I have not run since before we left, and am back on the ice and ibu train. I ran into Dr. O'Kane in the Blockbuster parking lot the other day (as I was trying to get the chocolate cupcake icing off the butt of my jeans, nice) and we decided I should pay him another visit soon.

Since returning, I've had some memorable swims. The "religious experience" point to point with Kelly, Jim, Liz, Tatyana and Mike from Madrona to Madison on a gray Sunday. The chilly cove swim with dear Rob who gave up his speed for my safety Thursday morning and stayed with me stroke for icy stroke for nearly an hour. Rob, if you are reading this, I have a Starbucks card with your name on it. Thank you.

I am still loving the wetsuit-freedom, though the lake has dialed its temperature down since July. The weather is warming up and no doubt the lake will follow over the next week or so. I still hope to make it through Labor Day without suiting up except to compete.

Today was the 25th anniversary Emerald City Open Water swim. This event brings together top swimmers from around the area, including lots of kids. I have been thinking lately about my open water habit and wondering how long my friends and I will sustain it. Will we still love it when we're 50? When we're 60? My pod ranges from mid 30s to mid 50s...it was great to see the next generation of open water swimmers hit the beach today.

I finished a surprising third. Surprising, because (shame on me) I really thought I had a shot at winning the thing. I swam a :27 flat, which is my slowest time ever on that mile course, even though I felt strong throughout the race and hammered past a woman who swims for Whitman College in the last 100 yards (old age and treachery makes me the second loser).

Just checked the ceramic hardware from ECOs past and noted a :26.08 written on the mug from 1997 and a :25.33 for 1998. I didn't record my times for 2000 and 2004, but they must have been OK, because I have the mugs to prove a decent performance. Measuring open water distances is a fairly inexact science, I know, but when I stood up as the clock flipped to :27 I thought WTF??? It was still a fantastic morning with friends in and out of the water, but the clock was a downer.

Tomorrow is the Danskin. I felt like such a poser racking my bike with the elites today knowing I am going to walk the run. I'm sure the pink power will get me through; the Danskin is always my favorite day.