I Still Can't Believe it!

It's Friday now, and I am sitting in the Continental Hotel in Morocco (it must have been something in it's heyday, but it's a bit shop worn now).  I hear a roster crowing and a bulldozer working even though it is nine o'clock at night.  It doesn't feel like it will ever get dark or cool off.

It's three days since my crossing, and it's still hard to believe that I made it.  I keep trying to explain the feeling that this swim was at the very edge of my ability, and I don't know how I got through.  That thing that people talk about, that inner strength or untapped reservoir, I have never been there before.  I'm not sure I'll ever go back either.  It was scary.  I thought I would quit, and I was already sad about it, and yet I didn't stop moving my arms.  I don't know what was doing that.  It didn't feel like me.  I have never thought of open water swimming as dangerous because I love being in the water so much that I have rarely felt afraid.  And I wasn't afraid this time, but I did feel like this body of water was too big, or too powerful for me to be doing this.  Crossing over on the ferry today was very interesting.  Of course the waves look smaller from so high up, and nothing looks like it does from the swimmer's vantage point, but I also could see waves crashing on themselves.  Not the sort of white caps I associated with wind, but white caps because the waves were so big, I guess.  The ferry was a huge Catamaran and is was rocking to and fro all the way over.  So the Straits are rough.  Then there were the places that looked like eddys, or rip tides or what have you.  I kept thinking of a silly TV movie of Homer's Odyssey where there is a whirlpool that is the mouth of an angry child of Poseidon's.  These looked a bit like that.  But there was no rhyme or reason to them.  The ocean is powerful and mysterious.  I guess I was a bit naive before I came, and I feel lucky not to have had to pay some hedious price for my stupidity.

But I don't think I'll be signing up for anything else soon.  I think I have gained a new respect for our sport, and I won't be quite so cavalier.  Or I just might convince myself that it's different in the Bay ;-)

I am having fun.  I didn't get to go to the desert like I had hoped.  It is just too far away.  But I went to Gibraltar (must have a t-shirt that actually says Gibraltar even if there is nothing with the Straits).  And I am having Kite Surfing lessons now that I don't have to worry about my shoulders.  All is well, it's a million degrees in Morocco.  I head to Asilah tomorrow, a beach town just down the Moroccan coast.  And then back to Spain to meet with the people who have the next swim window.  Kind of cool, we met on the Channel chat line.

Home Tuesday, sad to go, happy to be returning home.

This has been bigger, better, and more wondrous that I could have imagined.

Keep in touch, I am dying to hear about Eddie?  Anyone???

The Water is a different Color

The water is a different color here in the Gibraltar Straits. It is not the blue black of San Francisco, or the blue green of Hawaii, or the slate blue of the east coast, or the green blue of the Caribbean it is the blue I tried to paint my bedroom and didn't even know it. The paint card was named "Blueblood".  That's the color of the water I was in.
I drove to Tarifa this morning at 8:30 am. I was to meet Rafael at 9:00 in the port. Once I got here I realised what a stupidly unspecific idea that was, but I parked the car and began to walk around. I found a man wearing the same shirt as Rafael's organization and Rafael showed up spot on time. There was a man from North Carolina swimming today as well. He had his wife along to take photos. I was jealous for that, but I couldn't imagine making some one ride in a small (30 foot) boat, going seasick slow for five hours, plus the hour to get home. I was content and not nervous. That time had past.
I was wearing a South End cap that Darrin had given me on a "Sunriser" swim, ear plugs from Diana Shuster's special stash, and fabulous Blue Seventy dark goggles from Karen Rogers. I had four South End sweatshirts to give my crew and Rafael as a thank you and the big red South End flag to fly behind the pilot boat to keep me on course and committed.
I dove in at 9:33 am, and swam to the rocky shore just outside Tarifa's harbor. The water felt lovely, brisk, but not cold at all. My captain, Antonio dropped his hand, and I started swimming. Rafael had explained that it would be hard to get away from the Spanish Coast and that I must try to swim a bit fast. Fast is not in my repertoire, but it seemed to go OK. The water was much like the "Potato Patch" under the Golden Gate Bridge, waves coming from all directions and feeling more like a bubbling roiling cauldron than the ocean. The power of the water, wind, and current was noticeable and a bit overwhelming. Not much to do but swim, so I did. The waves were big, and not regular. I got a lot of slaps in the face, and drank plenty. But I was having fun. Whenever I encountered a cold patch, I was reminded of Joe Butler's opinion that; the cold is in the current and the warm is outside it. I don't know if this is true, but I tried to keep myself in the colder water. Rafael had said that The Straights are not for slow swimmers, and that I should not feed every 30 minutes as I am accustomed, but more like every 45 minutes. My feedings went well, all four of them. Thank god I never liked feeding, and swam a lot of long swims on not much fuel, because once the tide changed, they weren't going to let me stop to feed. After three hours, and what was to be my last feed, Jesus told me that I had only 2 km left. Yipee!  Africa was finally starting to look closer than Spain, but it was still a long way off to my eye. About 30 minutes later, and with no visible progress, Antonio brought the big boat back to me to talk. I didn't get in and chat mind you, but he drew along side me and explained that I must swim harder, and faster for a solid thirty minutes if I wanted to reach Morocco. By this time, I had been swimming my definition of "hard" for quite some time. The water was so rough that my swimming was never easy. But I tried to turn on the speed. Those who know me from the pool will be laughing now, because my lane mates and I often joke that we don't go faster, we just splash more and work harder. With this in mind and Africa a long way off, I tried to channel Terry from the English Channel chat line who always talks about lengthening your stroke for maximum efficiency. Man I hoped it was working. I must add here that my shoulders were holding up very well. I was not in pain, and they weren't feeling loose or wobbly at all. They hurt like hell now, but so what. I tried everything to bring Africa closer. I put my head down and pulled hard for 10 strokes, then harder for ten more, and then back to the first level- nothing. I tried swimming zig-zag because one time I was swimming around the "Creakers" with Jimmy and Lisa and that was the only way we could get around. But Jesus was not happy with that and kept pointing and pantomiming "go, go, straight, hard, you can do it". A lot of message for a few scant hand signals and a smile. I wasn't so sure by that time that I would be able to do it. So I started naming all of the people who had emailed me and wished me well. I was feeling the love and support, and that's when the dolphins showed up.  Penny wrote in her blog about swimming the Cook Straits that when it looked like she was done, dolphins appeared and encouraged her on.  Man was I excited.  I didn't have a moment of fear, I knew they were there to egg me on.  So on I went, meter by meter.  I even called upon Robbie, the deceased brother of Pat from Maine who I had chatted with after her record breaking Gibraltar crossing last month. She and I had joked that Robbie would bring me sweet currents, and take the wind out to lunch to keep it busy during my swim so as not add to my troubles. I was talking to Robbie and Pat and asking them both for help (Pat I brought some Poland Spring Water just like you suggested). 

Then I remembered a time in the pool when Karen had hooked me up to a bungee cord and told me that I should be able to swim across the 25 yards of the pool. She swam beside me in the next lane and at about 5 feet from the end I quit. I was convinced that I couldn't do it. Her words to me were, "but you were still moving forward- you had it. Why'd you quit?" I felt terrible, and embarrassed. I am sure that was not her intention, but today, out in the Med., her words came back to me. If I was still moving forward, even the slightest bit, I would not quit. Jesus and Antonio didn't know this, but after I got out, they said basically the same thing; that as long as I was still fighting and moving even incrementally forward, they would let me continue. And thank god they did, because after about a million "five hard strokes" I was smashed into the cliff at Punta Leona, Morroco.
I am sure that more things will come to me, but this is enough for now, I want to go to bed.

I swam from Europe to Africa today, Tuesday July 13th, 2010. And I swam with dolphins. Two dreams came true.

Thank you everyone for your support and enthusiasm.  Special thanks to my parents who padded my funds, and Jorge, Katharine and Coco for putting up with an obsessed person for the past six months.

Saturday & Sunday

I said goodbye to my family in the rental car bus.
They were flying back to California after a hot vacation in new Hampshire.
I wandered around the airport, bought yet another book and candy bar and found my gate.
Hilary had given me something to help me sleep on the flight and some advice about how best to avoid jet lag.
The flight was easy, I slept some and arrived in Madrid for the first time.
I had almost three hours to kill before my connecting flight to Malaga so off I went in search of soccer jerseys for my girls.
Now this is the actual day of the World Cup Final match, and Spain is favored to win. If this had been America, there would have been specially constructed kiosks in the airport to sell World Cup stuff, but this was Spain and I couldn't find anything.
I had fun looking, went to lots of shops. Had some breakfast and got on my next plane. This one was delayed over an hour on the tarmac waiting for luggage from Munich. I arrived in Malaga, a tourist destination on the Mediterranean coast of Spain and waited for my bag.  I think all of the German bags got off first, but then I tried a different area and there it was.  My bag is very heavy because I brought some Gatorade from California, some water from Maine (NH) and four huge sweatshirts as gifts for my pilot, crew, and Rafael (the guy in charge).

I rented a cute car, refused the GPS, and off I drove.

I felt like my adventure was truly beginning.  The route to Tarifa was easy to follow.

I didn't see much of the ocean because I opted for the pay route since it was faster even if a bit inland.  You might thing I should be enjoying the sights, but I couldn't get to Tarifa fast enough.  I left the pay route at the Tarifa exit.  Coming around a corner I saw about 50 huge windmills.  It made me feel like my brother Chris was welcoming me to Tarifa.  Around the next corner I saw my first glimpse of Africa and started to cry.  I didn't plan on that.  Then I saw the Atlantic Ocean and cried anew.  I didn't realize what an emotional trip this would be.  I focused so much on training and fretted so much on whether I had done enough or healed enough to go through with it, and here it is.  My dream adventure.  The beauty alone was staggering, and the enormity of the challenge became very real.  This is big stuff.  I drove to my hotel first to call.  It being Sunday night, and the night of the World Cup final, I didn't reach Rafael.  

So I decided to focus on the match.  My family enjoys soccer more than most Americans.  We watch about 75% of all the World Cup matches.  We would Tivo them everyday, and often I would catch some of a game live, and then watch it later with my family.  So I was excited.  Travelling alone has many perks, but watching a soccer game is a social event.  I went to the heart of Tarifa's main square and there was a jumbotron of sorts set up on a stage for all to see.  By 8:15 pm, with fifteen minutes to kick off, the screen was blank and there were three guys scrambling to get it to work.  All of the nearby cafes with TV were full to the rafters.  I just kept walking away from the square listening for a TV and looking for a place to watch.  Every bar and restaurant I came upon was full.  As I crossed yet another block I saw an Italian flag outside a bar.  There were only about 10 old men inside, but they were shouting and singing with gusto.  In I go, not even knowing how to order a drink, so the bartender gave me a beer, and after much pantomime a glass of ice.  I got to sit right in front of the TV and next to a fan.  The fan was crucial.  Not only was it hot, but everyone was smoking.  They were GREAT fans.  Singing often and loudly.  They liked that I was there, but we all just really watched the game.  At half time with no score, I went to find some food.  The Italian bar had been a hard core drinking establishment.  The best I could have hoped for was chips, or nothing.  Along the main tourist street in the old town section, there are no cars and every store front is a restaurant or a bar.  The ones with TV were filled to over flowing.  The rest were shuttered.  Kids were roaming the street blowing horns, waving flags, and setting off poppers (bang bang).  There was one place filled with orange jerseys.  Every patron was Dutch.  I thought I might be able to squeeze in there and get a pizza, but no.  I ordered one to go and as I left, I could here the cheers that the big outdoor screen was working.  I stood near a tree eating a pizza out of a box and watched Spain conquer Holland.  The street was full of red jerseys, flags, voovoozelas, and painted faces. By the beginning of overtime my feet were tired, but the crowd had grown such that there was no hope of sitting down.  Then they scored, with only minutes to spare and the place went wild.  Not scary wild, happy, joyful wild.  Everyone was screaming, and hugging, and dancing, and crying.  I was crying and clapping and whistling.  It was awesome.  

I found my way back to my car and drove back to my hotel.  Every car on the street had flags flying, horns honking, and people hanging out the windows.  The joy was palatable.  I felt lucky to share in it.  I was home by midnight and fell right to sleep.  So much for jet lag (yeah Hilary).I had planned to call Rafael first thing  but I didn't wake up until ten.  I phoned him and made arrangements to meet at eleven.  I quickly showered, just missed breakfast, and went to find him in Tarifa.  I neglected to tell him that my cell didn't work so I couldn't ask for directions.  He said get to the old town and then call.  I was too excited to remember the silly little complication of no phone, so I parked and then asked everyone I passed where #19 Calle de Luz was.  Needless to say, I found Rafael.

Rafael is charming and kind.  He explained that he works for the Vessel traffic Control (shipping controllers for the Straits) and does the swimming assistance on the side.  He told me that two people were in the water as we spoke and that I should call again at 6:00 pm to see if tomorrow would be a good day.  I went around town looking for soccer jerseys and a sun cover up.  Had no success but found a lovely place to eat lunch.  I went back to my hotel around six and walked across the road to the beach.  I went into the Atlantic, played in the waves and took a few strokes, but mostly just tested the water temperature.  It is good!  warmish, but cool.   Nothing like San Francisco, but a little colder than the lake in New Hampshire were I had just spent a week swimming my last four hour swim.

I called Rafael.

They both made it.  And tomorrow looks good.

I am to meet him at the docks in the harbor at 9:00 am ready to go.

I wish it was earlier, to avoid the sun, but I will do as I am told.

This is it.  

And now to bed.

I asked for a wake up call and I set my alarm (I would like to read this over and edit it, but I need to make up my feed bottles and fret some more) so off to bed.

More soon.

Almost Time Now

I haven't posted in a while. I have been freaking myself out now that my swim is really here. I leave Friday for a week vacation on the East Coast with my family, and then on July 10Th I am off to SPAIN!!!
I haven't been swimming hard, but I have done a difficult three hour swim in cold water. I am hoping that the warmer water of Gibraltar will allow me more staying power. I got cortisone in both shoulders and must resist swimming for four days to let it work it's magic. I didn't get to do any swims longer than four hours which worries me, but hey it's point to point. The adrenaline, and seeing where you want to get to work wonders. I hope it's enough. I think I am stubborn enough to get across. I am not a quitter.
I have been running around with lots of last minute travel frenzy. Like having to get 1500 euros (I hate to travel with a lot of cash, but I have to pay for the swim). And I talked myself into a little point and shoot camera because I don't want to carry around my lovely Nikon. Then there are the plug adaptors, the fuel for the swim, the Gatorade (one swimmer told me she even brought water from home). Then there was the panic over the "shark shield". I didn't even know that such a thing existed, and now I am hearing that someone who swam Gibraltar this summer was "glad to have one" with her on her double crossing because she saw a great white (as did the people on the boat). Breathe in breathe out...I will be fine. "Everyone has a fish story" as they say. I would rather mine be about dolphins...
Well, I may not be as ready as I had envisioned, but my time is now and my adventure starts Friday.
Think good thoughts of me during the week of July 12-18Th. Hope for good weather early in the week, with favorable tides and light winds (is that asking for too much?).
I'll keep you posted.

Catch Up

I want to catch up my family on what's been happening in my journey to cross the Gibraltar Straits. They have been tremendously supportive and encouraging (both emotionallt and financially). I began this odyssey in January and have been on a rollercoaster ride from the start. Mentally and emotionally this marathon training thing is wicked. As is my nature, I started out over zealous and worked too hard. Not having a coach other than helpful friends and chat room aquaintances I concocted a training schedule out of thin air. It looked good on paper. Luckily one friend strongly stipulated that it was a "plan" and not a directive. That I should do my best to follow it, but to listen to my body and deviate if needed. I didn't hear that part very clearly. I got worn out and sick a few times over the months, and took time off to recover which was hard, but unavoidable. By the middle of April I was cooking with gas. I was swimming the length of Gibraltar during the week in the pool and more than that on the weekends in the Bay. I was swimming between 14 - 20 miles a week. On April 21st I took the day off of work and tested my self against rough water, cold, and time. I swam over 12 and a half miles in 55 degree water for almost four hours. The waves were big (listed at 7-9 foot swells) and the wids were strong (gusting up to 17 miles an hour) and I came through like a champion. After this swim, I felt ready to change my event to the English Channel. Just work a little harder and see where it led me. I even emailed a boat pilot with the English Channel Swimming Association to inquire about the possibility of jumping in where some one else cancelled (he didn't recommend it - but I thougt about it). This is how good I was feeling. Charged up and ready to conquer the world. So after my long swim, I kept right on swimming. I was in the pool the very next day doing my 4,ooo yards and damn proud of it. I was also reading the Odessey at the time and I think the fates decided that I needed a personal lesson in hubris. I believe that the rough nature of my long swim in the bay caused a tear in my right shoulder muscle. But in my over enthusiasum I did not heed the niggling pain and just kept swimming. I swam 23K the very next week, including one 4+ hour swim. After a few more weeks, the pain would not be ignored. I went to the doctor and the films showed him the tear. This was a real low point. Just a few short weeks ago I thought I could fly over the strait, and now I would be lucky to make it with fins (not an option - against the rules). So I got a cortisone injection (I know, bad idea) I took a week off, meaning swimming with fins and mostly kicking and riding my bike. Well it has been two weeks since the injection. I have been going to physical therapy and swimming "easy". Doing the same yardage, but with little or no intensity just ploding along. I still feel weakness in my shoulder, but not much pain. I believe that I will recover enough in the remaining four weeks to make it across Gibraltar. As long as I don't let my crazy thoughts make me swim a six hour training swim, something I had always planned on doing, I should be ok. I heard from three people who attempted the straits last weekend. One made it in 4:27, and he called it "very challenging", one made it in 5:59 and sounded like she had a blast, and the other didn't make it. She was pulled about 1.5 miles from Morocco. They all had high surf and high winds. I have always known that I would never be fast, ever, but I have also thought of myself as strong, so I could make the rougher swims. Now I just pray that my shoulder holds up for one more rough swim. The journey through this is the experience. Success or failure are both possible outcomes, and they both have value. As Roosevelt said, there is glory in being the "man in the area...who , at best, knows the triumph of high achievment...and at worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly..." The mistakes in training, the failure to listen to my body, the worry that I haven't done enough, and the insecurity of do I have it in me to tough it out. It is all a part of the experience. Marathong swimming is about heart. It is about determination, and maybe even about strength of charachter. And then it's about water, weather, wind, currents, tides, sea creatures, ships, all sorts of things can conspire to end a swim. Or maybe it's just about who is willing to suffer the longest. I don't know yet how long I can suffer for before I give in. I have never given in yet. I don't think I will this time. My biggest fear isn't sharks, or fatigue, but not judging the tides correctly and being pulled just off the finish because the tide turns and there is no way I can break throught. So I have to trust my pilots a bit and know that they want me to succeed almost as much as I do. The other thing about this crazy swim, is that no matter what happens it will be only 6 or 7 hours of my trip. That leaves 11-12 days of adventure, relaxation, swimming, hiking, exploring, and traveling to enjoy. So pray for me that the weather gods are favorable early in my window and that will leave me with a long week of unexpected adventures.
I leave for Malaga Spain on July 10th, my window of opportunity is from July 12th - 18th, and I fly home on the 19th. Think good thoughts, and safe passage.
I can't wait.

SUNDAY June 6th

I joined several South End women and swam the .75 mile and the 1.5 mile PMS swims at Lake Del Valle this morning. The weather was beautiful, the water was warm and we all had a good time. The .75 mile swim was first, and I was nervous since I haven't put my shoulder to any sort of test in a few weeks. I was fine. Not pain free, and a bit stiff, but fine. The 1.5 mile swim a half an a hour later was even better. I relaxed into a gentle sort of rhythm. I don't think I did any damage, and I really feel like I need to be swimming more.
I just read an email on the Channel Chat line about two people, Matthias (Germany) and Brigit (Australia?) who attempted Gibraltar today. Matthias made it in 4 hours 20, and thought the swim "very challenging". Brigit had to be pulled about 1.5 miles from the Moroccan coast. High winds and rough waves made going further too dangerous. What's "too dangerous" about waves and wind? Don't you just push on? This is exciting news; I love to hear from other people doing my swim, but it is also scary. Matthias thought it was "very challenging" for his ability... Well I can only imagine that our abilities are probably quite similar, or he's even stronger than me - he's certainly faster. So where does that leave me? Not in top shape, and a bit lame, will I make it?
And Brigit is a Swimtrek guide. She must have tons of experience and training, and she didn't make it. Lots for me to obsess about :-)
I am looking forward to school ending. I plan to swim a few days this week, light and easy, then Saturday is Lake Berryessa (I have attended every year for the past 22 years so I can't miss it) and then Sunday is the Dipsea Race. I am only volunteering, but it will be fun.
Then Monday, once school is out, I will go swim in the bay as many days as I can before I leave.
I will play it by ear, but I would like to do a few longer swims, maybe 4 hours or more and see how I hold up. But I won't push it. I won't make things worse. I will have faith that I have trained a lot and it will be enough. I hope so.

28 Days and counting

The Internet can be a great thing, but it can also scare the begeezus out of you.
I was surfing around looking for a new picture of the Straits to inspire me, and I stumbled upon some English guy's blog about his crossing last year. They were escorted across by "...Pilot whales - like big dolphins - 5 of them including a mother and baby. They were obviously checking us out because they looped around and came back for a second time even closer so that I felt, had I dared, that I could have reached out and touched the nearest one."(see picture at right).
Well freak me out yet again, but isn't it cool?
So I am once again on the road to Gibraltar. Not that I ever really got off, but I have had some set backs. My shoulder has a tear in the supraspinatus muscle, but the cortisone injection has calmed down the swelling and the pain. I am swimming 3K a day, not hard, or fast, but swimming none the less. So my spirits are back up and my fear is receding. I may not have the crossing I hoped for, but a crossing I will have. I was speaking to a friend who knows more than I do about probably everything, and she said that I "over trained with the limitations of the mechanics and for the distance of the swim." I like this idea. My mechanics or technique is off, and I was training for something longer than Gibraltar will probably be and I over did it. The thing about training is that you have no basis of knowledge except for experience. People can advise you, and offer plans, but everybody is different and every swim is different. So I am learning about what I can and can't do, and what I need to accomplish my swim (I hope). I wish I had learned all of this in my training build up for Tahoe, but I didn't pay enough attention to details. I just went out there and swam a lot. I hurt myself before that swim too. You would have thought I might have learned. But I listened to so much advice that I stopped listening to my own body. After my long Pt. Bonita Swim, I should have rested. Instead I got charged up and swam more. I might learn this time.
I am doing band work, and core work in addition to swimming. And I have high hopes that I will get through. I am excited again, and can't wait to leave.
It's only 28 days now!

WEEK 7 Tendonitis

I have been battling shoulder pain now for over four weeks, and I am not winning. I have been to the Chiropractor, Physical Therapy, and today the doctor. The pain is getting worse. My fears are growing.
I have continued to swim, but just the minimum about 18 - 21k week. Drills mostly and some swimming with fins. Anything to take pressure off my shoulders but keep me working on technique.
I was READY for Gibraltar a month ago. Heck I did the distance in very rough conditions a month ago. And now I am not ready. I am scared, and feeling out of shape, and in pain.
My friends say that I have enough "in the bank". Mentally, I did Tahoe (10 miles last summer) and Physically, I have miles and miles under my belt. But I wanted, and still want to swim two more challenging swims. I would feel more comfortable if I complete a six hour swim before I go. But that may not be possible. It may come down to either a six hour training swim or Gibraltar itself. Crazy, just a month ago, I had it all dialed in.
Something else nagging at the back of my brain is the thought that I have never hit my personal wall yet in swimming. To date I have been able to do every swim I set out to swim. I read about people who attempt the English Channel and fail, and rise up to try again the next year. After the training I have put in for Gibraltar, the expense, the mental and time expenses; to fail? I don't know what I will do. I wonder if I have that type of fortitude I applaud so in others. I don't think of myself as a quitter, because I wouldn't quit during the swim, but there are other forces at work here beyond the swimmers control, and you could not "want to quit" and yet still not make it. There is a point across Gibraltar that you need to reach by a specific time in the tide or you miss landfall on the far side, and the boat pulls you whether you want to quit or not. This is keeping me up nights. It's not like I can just say, "Okay, let's try again tomorrow". This is a $1,900 experience and I want to succeed. I am plagued by thoughts that I haven't trained enough, or smart, or properly. that I haven't done all that I could have done, because somehow I got it wrong.
Twenty-five weeks ago when I began this endeavor, I was so proud of the schedule I concocted. And now I am ashamed that I have not been able to adhere to it, especially now that I am injured. People reminded me that it was a "plan" not a rule and that some weeks would deviate, but I am sick with worry that I have not done "enough". Of course this is compounded by the fact that no one knows what the hell "enough" is, and it's different for every person. I guess this is the part about Marathon swimming that you can only figure out for yourself. Channel Swimming, it is said, "Is 80% mental and 20% physical." What that doesn't tell you is that it's also about 75% faith. Faith in yourself. Faith that you have done your best, even if you didn't do everything you set out to do. Faith that with what you have done, you will have what you need to get across. And faith that if you don't get across, you'll be ok too. That there is something to be learned from failure as well as success. It's not that I want to fail, but I need to acknowledge that there is no shame in failure. And that if it happens, I will be ok. Disappointed, sure, mad, furious, but I will still be able to count myself as one of the few "who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood...who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat." (Theodore Roosevelt 1910)

WEEK 8 continues...

It's Thursday. This morning's pool workout was fantastic! When I got up this morning I figured that I could only swim drills and would have to swim by myself, nursing my shoulder along. But Coach Kat's workout was different from usual. It was drill focused, and technique inspiring. We worked hard on rotation and core swimming, snapping our hips. She had us doing the rotation movement vertical, which made it much easier to feel and then translate it to horizontal. It was inspired. Just as in my emergency physical therapy appointment, John helped me feel the proper movement for my shoulders through the pull. I am so inspired when I luck into a good teacher/coach. I don't know how many yards we swam this morning, but I was exhausted. And yet my shoulder felt fine! It's complaining now, but that's to be expected. I found myself feeling where my shoulders were through the stroke. I think I have spent my life with my shoulders tense and raised...it's time to relax them, lower them, and hold them back. I think my scapula needs to move more through every stroke. I think I tensed it up and hold it locked for the remainder of my swim. I should watch dolphins swim rather than people. They swim with their whole bodies, I swim with my arms. 49 and still learning, good on me!

WEEK 8 continues...

Life is interesting for me. I have been rejuvenated in my spirit and my swimming. But I still have a cold and my shoulder is now officially an injury. Whereas last week I was swimming, training, sick, and feeling overwhelmed. This week I am feeling calm and yet scared. Until recently I was completely confident that I could "do the distance" and just needed to hang on until my event. Now I am concerned that I may not be strong enough to muscle through the pain and swim for over six hours. And yet I have had an epiphany of sorts too. Because one of the most amazing things I have seen on the channel chat line is that there are numerous people who have "attempted" the English Channel and not succeeded, and yet they find the courage and the strength to try again! Knowing how long and arduous the trainig is, knowing how cold the channel is, knowing how long and painful the event can be, and they find the will to get up early, swim for hours for months on end, and try again. These people amaze me. And I am in awe of their strength and their mental fortitude. I don't want to find out that I don't have that characteristic, and if it takes something big, like a spectacular failure to see what I am made of, then there will be benefit in that. I am so used to working on something, trying it, and suceeding in it, that I hae never had this sort of test. Not that I am going looking for it, but I could stand to see how I handle failure. When I swam across Lake Tahoe last summer, I was nursing a shoulder injury (opposite side to now) and I used fins from time to time to keep up with my co-swimmer Joe Butler. It was my first experience with a marathon swim and feeding, and pilots etc...and I was very concious of not wanting to "be any bother" to the group. But I also, truth be told, got VERY cranky during the last mile of the six hour swim. I am embarrassed at how I lost my good humor and snapped at my kayaker towards the end. So I need to learn how t be more like my heros who can find it in themselves to fall down spectacularly and get back up and try again. I read some one's blog where they have made 6 attempts and still hasn't made it, and is still trying. That's some kind of crazy, but also some kind of strength.
I learned so far that I started my training schedule too early, and burned too hot to sustain, and een got injured. So that's valuable. My friend Suzie just told me of a coach who divided his team evenly down the middle. Had half of the kids swim a normal training regeme for a season, and the other half focused on drills and swam less distance over all. The kids who focused on drills had more improvment throug out the season and performed better over all at the final meet. Many people have told me that there is sucha thing as garbage training. And my personality is to do way more than I need to do because I feel better if I over achieve. I want to be able to say that I did an eight hour swim for a six hour eent just to be cool, or to be over the top. But it would be smarter to do a six hour swim, and not hurt my shoulder any more than necessary. So I am learning as I go along. I am also learning that even though I work out six days a week, I am intrinsically lazy. I want to do core exercises, need to do shoulder exersises, might have even skipped all of this pain if I had, and yet what do I do? I swim. I swim six days a week for too long. I would do better with variety, and strengthening work. But I don't do it. To me this shows a lack of character. So yes, I am out there doing stuff, but I want to have more personal discipline. I want to feel proud of my effort, not my result.

As Teddy Roosevelt said: "It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."
"Citizenship in a Republic,"
Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910

WEEK 8 Oh My God where has the time gone?

I had a GREAT weekend. It is so nice not to be whining. I am still sick, and I have pain in my shoulder, but I had so much fun in the water and out of it that I am happy and recharged. It is clear to me that I set my Gibraltar training too long. This marathon training is 90% mental, and I fell down in the gutter for a bit there, but I am back and excited and a little freaked out that in a few short weeks I will be on my way. I find myself looking at "YouTube" videos of people that have swum Gibraltar and I am excited! I believe in my heart that I can "do the distance" now I just have to stay healthy and injury free until the time comes.
To that end, I went to the chiropractor on Friday. He made some progress on my shoulder. I was swimming with a "straight arm recovery" on the right, not good, and not rotating or swimming from my hips enough. both of these issues are being improved with lots of drills. But I think I need to go to the physical therapist and work on strengthening those little muscles that hold the shoulder together. I am asking a lot of my shoulders, and I don't want this to be my last big swim. In fact I am feeling like Gibraltar may be a stepping stone to the English Channel, but I hesitate to put my bid in because these big events are both financially expensive, and they take a toll on one's family life. But it is fun to have a goal and a focus. It does mean that I don't do the laundry enough, or any gardening, and I resent having to shop for and cook dinner every night, but my family expects those things and has had them handled by me for their whole life, so my absents is felt and resented. We'll probably live.

So, back to my great weekend; my club had planned a "Long Swim". These are the highlights of our club and the best reason to be a member. Kirby Cove was scheduled, one of the most beautiful swims that we do. But the tide set the swim to be at 11:00 am on a Saturday and this just became untenable. What with it being Salmon Fishing season, there being two sailboat regattas scheduled and the beautiful weather that brings out the pleasure boaters...it was just asking for someone to get run over. So the swim commissioner rightly changed the swim to one from the opposite direction, AT&T Park and that meant the starting time was some six hours earlier. So I slept through. A 5:00 am call time is do able, and even easy for an exciting swim, but the Swim from At&T Park back to the club, while long, is not especially pretty. I like any swim that starts inside the bay and goes out under the Golden Gate Bridge, or any swim that starts outside the gate and comes in, but the swims that start south of the club and stay in the bay are my least favorite. So I arrived at the club as the swimmers were getting in from the early swim feeling a bit guilty for having slept in and as luck would have it, I got invited to do a private Alcatraz crossing. Just six of us and a boat. We went out in celebration of Kristine Buckley's 501 Alcatraz swim and her 50ieth birthday and swam back in only 28 minutes (a record for me by far). That was a blast, but the icing on the cake was that we returned to the Hyde Street Pier and there were DOLPHINS there in pens being trained by the Navy for Homeland Security. There were six of the biggest most beautiful bottle-nosed dolphins I had ever seen along with eight of the most beautiful people the Navy Seals have ever produced. I swear it was out of a movie. There were these happy athletic dolphin trainers and the dolphins were like their pets. There were friendly and talkative about what a great job they have with the Navy. My friends and I were thinking the same thing and wondering where to sign up. It was magical. The girls I swam with on Saturday were set to swim a one mile open water race on Sunday so I joined them. We swam the ParkSide Mile race with the San Mateo Marlins Masters Team. The water was warm (about 64-65) and there were only about 145 people so it was a friendly event. The South End was well represented with more that six swimmers. All in all, it was a good swim. I didn't break 30 minutes (my goal since I began open water swimming over 22 years ago) but I was close, 31:48 and I was third in my age group (don't ask, but yes there were only three women in my age group :-).
I had a wonderful weekend. I didn't swim for six hours, alone, training and fretting about my training. I had some swim adventures with some friends. This is what I need to remind myself to do.
The people on the Channel chat line recommend a long swim every other weekend or back to back longs swims eery other weekend. I have been doing long swims and long back to back long swims every weekend until I get sick and or tired.
And fun with friends is often a better use of my time that a long slog. I can do the distance. I know I can. I do need to practice the feeding and the type of fuel, but I need to be happy and enjoy swimming too or what's the point?
I plan to do a lot of drills this week, work on my stroke technique, and give my shoulder a rest along with PT. This weekend I am piloting so that others can do some long swims and earn myself some karma. then next weekend I will do a six plus hour swim either in the bay with Kristine piloting me or in and around the cove if I can't get a pilot. Once I put my six hour "qualifying Swim" to rest, I will be on easy street all the way to Spain.
Life is good and I am enjoying it immensely!

Pitiable WEEK 9

I am SICK, AGAIN. And feeling sorry for myself...and wondering what the hell I am doing wrong! My right shoulder is bothering me...and I am coughing up my lungs all night long.
I am just glad that I still have a few weeks left to get my stamina back and my cold acclimatization. I hope it will be enough. Gone are my delusions of doing a two way crossing and I am just hoping that I will make Gibraltar. I don't know if I have trained stupidly, or just over did it, but I have reason to worry.
I still need to put away a 6 hour swim before the end of this month. And I don't have the energy. I am taking my cold seriously, and not rushing back to the water. I am waiting until I am DYING to get back in, not forcing myself to train. I hope that gives my shoulder and my lungs the time they need to get better.
My life is so hectic at the end of the school year, it is hard to focus on swimming. I am banking on the thought that the minute school is through, I will be able to redouble my efforts and get the job done. I hope it works. I would hate to have my dream unravel just through attrition. It makes me pause to think of an English Channel bid. I am learning what everyone who has done this already knows, the feat is 90% mental and the other half is physical. My mental training is taking a beating and my physical fitness is falling apart. Bummer. More sleep, better nutrition, and renewed effort. Next week, I will be back!

WEEK 10 Life is complicated...

Week 10 is off to a rocky start. My car is in the shop, so I can't go swimming at the pool before work, and I am riding my bike home, which is some exercise. It's probably a good thing. After my big swim I kept to my schedule and I think I over did it. Because when my friend Suzie suggested a six hour swim last Saturday, my mind said , "Sure, great idea", but my body said, "Whoa, slow down there girl." My right shoulder burned and I was cold! I never get cold...unless I am sick...and lo and behold, today I am sick! Shit! I am so mad. Tomorrow is The Five Coves of Death and I had planned to swim five coves at 5:00 am and then five again at 5:00 pm for fun and as part of my training. I am supposed to be swimming more longer swims back-to-back to build my endurance...and I am off track. I wish someone would tell me what to do. I know that I still have ten weeks to train, and that I could probably swim Gibraltar today successfully, but the swim isn't today. And I need to keep my fitness, and my cold acclimation, and not get injured in the next ten weeks. I have deviated from my plan a lot since I was told to swim "Gibraltar" every week (or at least the equivalent distance). That's not as much swimming as I was planning on doing. I think I am supposed to swim the equivalent of Gibraltar (about 12 miles) every week and include a long swim every weekend. My long weekend swims are supposed to increase by an hour each month, so I should be up to five hours this weekend. But the Five Coves of Death times two would be five hours or more of swimming on a Wednesday. So what should I swim on Saturday and Sunday? See how confusing it can be? And of course it doesn't really matter as long as I swim a lot every week and for a long time one or both days of the weekend. But this is when I run into trouble, because life gets in the way and I don't swim enough, or life works out conveniently and I swim too much...I have a plan, but I don't stick to it. I don't stick to it because I get worried that I am not swimming enough. Like Suzie inviting me to swim for six hours? I'm not up to six hours, why did I sign on? I set myself up to fail and get sick...then I get worried that I'm not training hard enough. I need t take my head out of the equation and just follow the plan. I will get back on track after Wednesday and the Five (hopefully ten) Coves of Death. I will ask my Channel chums which is more productive, to swim 4/3 hours back to back or push for a six hour swim on one day of the weekend. And if I am still sick, I won't do either. But I will worry until I get a six or seven hours swim under my belt.

WEEK 11

All is well after last week's big swim. No injuries, a tired right shoulder, but nothing to worry about. I received the email critique of my swimming video and have floundered a bit. It's all REALLY GOOD criticism and advice, but it's a lot to process. The basic problem with my swimming is that I swim with my arms, head, and shoulders (sounds reasonable). Howeve real swimming is done from the hips and core. The Stroke doctor came up with 8 points and they all same the same thing in different ways: stop swimming with straight arms, rotate more, engage hips/core abdomen/lower back and use a higher elbow position. It doesn't seem like much on paper, but it constitutes a whole lot of change ...if I can even make the adjustments. Today in the pool a lane mate, Mallory stopped me and made me do some rotating drills. She was so happy with my progress that I stopped swimming the workout and just kept doing the drill. I hope some of the rotation is there tomorrow when I hit the pool again. I am truly lucky to have so much swimming knowledge around me. When I showed my pool mates the critique from the stroke doctor, they all knew exactly what he was on about, and all had ideas on ways for me to improve. I am tired because I am using new muscles, but hopeful too. It is storming here today but the water was warm and inviting.
My friend Karen Rogers swam from the Sea Buoy (12 miles off the San Fransisco Coast back to the Golden Gate Bridge on Monday. She encountered 9' seas and 13 mile an hour winds. I can imagine swimming it, but I can't believe she had a kayak escort the whole way. How did he stay a float? She made it in 4.5 hours and had 'gas in the tank' which is good because she is planning to swim to SF from the Farallon Islands in early July. She is my hero and trail blazer. Maybe I'll get to do the sea buoy next :-)

BIG SWIM is right!

First let me say, "It was a blast!!!" I swam from The San Rafael Bridge to Point Bonita. I finally landed on Point Bonita, got my rock (no t-shirt) and swam 12.52 miles in 3:50 hours in 55 degree water.

So here's the story. Tuesday at work I get an email from my husband:

Tonight...NW winds 20 - 30 knots, wind waves 4 - 7 ft., NW swell 7 - 9 ft.,

Wed. NW winds 25 - 35 knots, combined seas 11 - 17 ft., scattered showers.

Small Craft advisory from 11 pm tonight to 5 pm tomorrow.
Gale Warning in effect from 11 pm tonight until 5 pm Wednesday.

His suggestion, "Cancel the bloody swim and do it on a day with better weather." I assured him that I would show this information to my pilot and that we could always change the swim to one inside the bay...not to worry, I wouldn't do anything reckless. It was cold, windy and raining in Orinda, and frankly, I was a bit worried myself. But Bobby (I'll tell you when you can get back in the boat) Roper dismissed my fears and said, "Let's wait and see what the morning brings."

So I drove to the city to pick up him and Naji, who had offered to be my "feeder", and we drove to Sausalito to meet the boat, stow our gear and have dinner. Bobby's friend Mike met us at the boat. They regaled Naji and me with stories of their high school antics and we all agree that the 50's had been a different time... then back to the boat by 8:00 and in bed soon after.

The plan was that Mike and the boat's owner Pete would wake us up at 3:30 am, motor out of the harbor, and up to the Richmond San Rafael Bridge so I could "jump" by 5:30. I did not get up. I did not want to have the conversation about the weather, I wanted to swim. I guess Bobby and crew were not worried, and after a bit of futzing around, I heard the engine start and the boat slowly backed out of it's slip. The Boat named, "My Way" belonged to Pete (I was never formally introduced) and he was friends of Mike who used to be a merchant marine and life long friend of Bob's. Bob cultivates friends with boats because he likes to pilot swimmers on adventure swims and help people achieve their dreams. The boat was not small, so the advisory didn't apply to us. It was about 40 ft long and weighed 20 tons is my guess. There was a roomy main cabin with a stove and microwave so that Naji could heat up my drinks. After we had been under way for about an hour, I stuck my head out of the sleeping cabin. I was assured that the swim was a go, and we made small talk about how great it was that the water would be rough because Gibraltar is famous for rough water and how better for me to train... Bobby made one concession to the weather, he decided that I would wait until it was light to begin. He figured the dark was just one too many variables to worry about with one lone swimmer and an unwieldy large boat, so we hovered around the Bridge on the Marin side until the sky began to lighten. But as you can see from the next two pictures, there is light (on the boat about to dive in) and there is light. I sure felt like I was swimming in a dark abyss.

I touched the Bridge, and took off. The ebb was in full swing, and I was past the bridge in no time. I swam from near the middle of the bridge towards San Quentin and then Tiburon for what seemed like hours. The sky lightened, but the sun did not show. I kept aiming for the point I wanted to swim around, and Bobby kept yelling at me to swim straight into shore. Of course I was about a 1/2 mile off shore so it's all relative, he knew that the current would bring me to the point and unless I swam towards shore I would be forced around the wrong side of Angel Island and who knows what all. I got very close to the tip of Tiburon and rounded it into the famous Raccoon Straits and pretty much came to a dead stop. Not really, but after the fast ebb pushed me there, it seemed to abandon me once I turned the corner. Now the wind was in my face with white caps breaking on all sides, there was no rhythm and much chaos. I had heard that this would be the hardest part of the swim, confusing water, waves breaking on all sides, and a back eddy I could get stuck in. It turned out that Bobby had learned from Karen Rogers, the first person to do this swim, and I avoided most of the troubles that befell her in the straits.

I swam towards Angel Island and out of the eddy. I saw the Tiburon harbor and Sam's restaurant, but when I came around the next Point on the west side of Tiburon I was hit full on with the most spectacular view of the Golden Gate Bridge imaginable. The sun came out, if only for a few minutes, and I knew right then that I would be successful. The leg from Tiburon to the bridge seemed much faster than the slog from the first bridge, and the golden gate was calling me. Before I knew it, I was backstroking a few strokes under the bridge and on my way into the open ocean. Now things got weird. On the ocean side of the bridge I fell into a huge whirlpool, or so it felt. The water became strangely calm, but the swells were much bigger. I could feel the power of the ocean and it was scary. I had been swimming for three hours, but this was very different water. It's hard to explain, but it was like a low amplitude roller coaster, with gravity pulling on you continuously. I wanted to get out of this place. It turns out that there is a big change in dept right there from about 600 ft deep to only about 60 ft and this causes all sorts of weird water. I started to swim away from the bridge and away from shore and was soon rewarded with the little stone building on Point Bonita. I rolled over on my back and smiled to the guys on the boat and they yelled at me to keep swimming. It was just over three hours of swimming so I figured Bobby was holding me to my wish of swimming for four plus hours, but I was a bit confused why they weren't more excited that I had done it. Anyway, I rolled over and continued to swim thinking all the while that I was a great guy and would be going further than anyone yet. Silly me, I had just passed Point Diablo (never heard of it) and Point Bonita was a good 45 minutes away. I did not know this, but I decided for myself that I would go to the next point and land on the beach to call it done. It was just beautiful. I was watching the beautiful Marin Headlands slide by and now started to swim into shore so that I could hit a beach. There is something much more fun about a "point to point" swim rather than just getting back into the boat and I wanted a souvenir (rock). When I was about 200 yards off shore they blew the horn. The horn during a swim is not to be taken lightly. In the water you can't see what's going on around you, it could signal the end of the swim or a shark, but you hear the horn you make for the boat. I get within 50 yards of the boat and Bobby yells that I should go ashore and finish the damn swim. I asked about the horn, but couldn't hear his answer, so I turned around thinking maybe these guys were a bit daft, and swam ashore, picked up a rock and made it back to the boat, very happy, not too cold, and not too tired.

This swim made me feel like my training is working. I felt strong and never lost my sense of humor. It was hard work and I was up to the task. There were times when my arm couldn't clear the water on it's recovery because I was underneath a wave. My stomach was unhappy because I had drunk so much sea water, but nothing hurt, and I had made it.

I want to thank Bobby, Naji, Mike and Captain Pete for their unwavering support and their willingness to endure lack of sleep, and much boredom to let me have this fabulous experience. I feel much better prepared now for Gibraltar, and I look forward to the next challenge.

WEEK 12 BIG SWIM

I am excited! This week I have a BIG swim on Wednesday. I have arranged with Bob Roper to do a 4+ hour swim. He suggested I swim from the San Rafael Bridge around Marin out under the Golden Gate Bridge and up the coast to Point Bonita. I think it will be between 12-14 miles. the weather forecast is for rain and wind. Bob may call off the swim, but I hope not. I need to swim in rough water. My times in the Bay lately have been very calm with almost no wind. Gibraltar will have WIND! Tarifa, where the swim starts from is the windsurfing capital of the world! So I hope to get rough water, wind and waves and over four hours of work before Wednesday is through. It is an opportunity to practice feeding (for real) and to build my mental endurance against adversity :-) This sounds crazy when I write it down, but I am happily excited to try.
In preparation for Wednesday I went to SportsBasement and bought a new suit, goggles, and tons of GU's and drink mixes. Somehow it feels important to have supplies. Or maybe I assuage my nerves through retail therapy. But either way, I am ready to go.
Here is a link to a map of the proposed swim.
I hope it works: http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?hl=en-GB&ie=UTF8&msa=0&msid=112303740848997776121.0004844c1b9d830005263&ll=37.866723,-122.497559&spn=0.23092,0.690079&t=h&z=11

WEEK 13

This week is off to a good start, and last week I swam a lot, just not how I had expected. I have figured out a way to get almost an hour and a half in the pool in the morning. Which just goes to show you what a little fear and determination can do. I get up a bit earlier, and don't get breakfast after swimming and it buys me an extra 30 minutes in the water. A good deal if you ask me. I am getting nervous, not for Gibraltar, but for a swim next week that I have set up with Bob Roper. I plan to swim from the San Rafael Bridge, through the Raccoon Straits, past Sausalito and out to Point Bonita. It should take me over four hours... I am not even so nervous about that as much as I am worried that I need to get in many longer swims to feel prepared. There doesn't seem to be enough time left to get it all done. I have 5 swims longer than four hours scheduled before Gibraltar (including one 5 hour and one planned 8 hour)...that should be enough (I hope). I am wishing now that I had scheduled my swim later in the summer so that I would have more time to endurance train other than just the weekends. But no worries... I can do this.
With my additional time in the pool, I am now swimming almost the length of Gibraltar during the school week, and everything on the weekends is gravy. This is a good feeling. I am getting stronger.
I didn't get to swim in the Bay this weekend so I don't have any pictures or good stories to tell. I was at the weeding of my brother Brian and his new wife Jennifer. It was in St. Helena at my step-mother Joan's beautiful straw bale house. There was a good size gathering of family and interesting friends. My dad and his wife Hilary came from New York, and I had a great time. It was a good dose of family and good food and wine. Jorge and Coco made the wedding, but just barely. Coco was in the preliminaries of State Cup soccer. They had three games, two in the pouring rain, and they won all three with shut outs and outrageous scores of 8-0. Not to get too excited,the teams get exponentially better after the first round. But they are playing well and can be proud of their efforts so far.
Katharine has yet to decide on a college, and I for one, would just like the decision made. Enough already with this dithering about LSU. How could she want to go to school in the South? A northern California raised beauty would be a real fish out of water in Louisiana, or so it would seem to me. But even if she does decide to go there, just PICK one and be done with it!

Friday April 9th, how did I get here?

I can't believe it's Friday already. I am on Spring Break. My plan was to swim in the Bay everyday this week...but as luck would have it, my daughter (who can't drive) had soccer practice every morning, so I needed to be here to ferry her. So instead of long swims in the cold water, I had to be content with long pool swims at the crack of dawn. Boy was I dreaming about sleeping in AND swimming. Something that never goes hand in hand and didn't this week either. So I got up at 5:30, drove to the pool, swam from 6:00 - 8:00 and then came home to drive Coco around. I did go swim in the Bay two afternoons. It was nice to swim in the sunshine. We almost never swim past ten in the morning so it felt very vacation like to be paddling around in the afternoon. But the logistics are horrible in the pm. One of the best things about starting a swim at 6:00 am, okay the only good thing, is that there is no traffic to get to SF and there is plenty of parking once you arrive. In the afternoon neither is true. But I liked it anyway. I also took advantage of having to be around to drive Coco, and went to a few classes at my gym. I did a Pilate's class and a "zumba" or cardio dance class. I think of it not as dancing so much as an hour of feeling horribly uncoordinated and klutzy with your heart rate up. But it was fun to do something new. By the end of the class, once the music slowed down a tick, I could even do a few of the steps.
So double workouts four days this week is not so bad. And I can see a payoff in the pool. I may not be faster, or I may be a tick faster, but I am stronger and smoother and beginning, dare I say it, to feel my core on occasion. I am very excited. My hero Karen (Olympic gold medalist, yes in swimming) gave me a fabulous suggestion to "swim through the "Y"". I have been having trouble with my hand position and my catch and her idea to swim through the "Y" that your thumb makes with your pointer finger seems to put my hand in just the right position. I have almost doubled my yardage this week and I am not in pain. Very good news indeed!

WEEK 15 and counting...

Time seems to be flying by. I have only 15 weeks left to get ready for this.
Yesterday, after the 5.5 mile "Mile Rock Swim" my arms were toast so I rode my bike 14 miles instead. I know it doesn't count towards my swimming, but I am hoping that core conditioning is just as important and I need to take care of my shoulders. It was great to be outside, tooling around town on a sunny day. I rode over to Lafayette to get a sandwich for lunch and then rode home. I must admit, that I got a ride up my hill, but only because I don't want to ruin my knee by pushing it too hard. Biking was a great change of pace, and I plan to do a lot more of it. This morning I went to Spin Class at the gym. Man is my butt sore, but I made it through the entire hour with a lot of "out of the saddle" riding. I am happy with my progress.
This is a "rest week" in my schedule but because I am trying to increase the over all amount of swimming I am doing I don't plan on resting much. I will swim one less day in a rest week, and less intensely in the pool. I have decided to alter my training plan a bit to include a Spin Class on Mondays, and a longer pool workout on Wednesday. So I will be doing the same amount of yardage with one less day in the water. After my experience swimming from Mile Rock Saturday, I believe that I need to swim for longer periods of time, not just more yardage or more days. It's the endurance that I need to build. I need to work through the "boredom" aspect of marathon swimming. Saturday was 2:30 hours in the water and I was fine as far as the cold goes. I need to ramp up to 3-4 hours on the weekends. I also did my sit-ups and tried to do push-ups on the physio ball (core work), and I need to do that everyday at home as well.
This is the longest stretch of consistent working out that I have ever done. I am proud of my effort so far and really hope that it pays off. I do get tired, but Gibraltar makes it easier to get up when I don't want to. I have paid for my plane ticket and made a deposit on the swim, there is no turning back. I am actually worried about the money. I still need about three thousand dollars, and my funds are running short. I have figured out that I can't afford to swim the Santa Barbara Channel as a warm up like I had hoped. It's just too expensive. I won't be able to swim the reverse Bay to Breakers on Wednesday either, but not for lack of funds. There is bad weather expected and it is the most difficult swim our club does, so they won't take chances with the weather. My next big swim is a Round Trip Alcatraz on April 11th, but my brother Brian is getting married on the 10th and family comes first. If can't make it, I will get Joe to take me soon. He has volunteered to pilot me on a Round Trip Alcatraz when it's convenient. And Kristine Buckley has volunteered to pilot me on a long dull swim from our club towards the San Francisco Airport. It's not exciting, but there is little vessel traffic to worry about and the water just keeps going, so I can get some hours in. I have made arrangements with Bob Roper to swim from the Richmond San Rafael Bridge out through the Golden Gate to Point Bonita on April 21st. This is a swim that Karen Rodgers did a few weeks ago and now everyone (myself included) wants to do it. It hugs the coast of Marin through the Raccoon Straits and out under the bridge to the open ocean (my favorite place). It sounds beautiful. I need to find someone to come with me and act as my pilot/feeder. It is hard to ask someone to give up 8 hours usually starting in the middle of the night for a slow boat ride to nowhere...any volunteers?

WEEk 16 Ends on a beautiful note...

Try the link to the right It should take you to map of today's swim.

I set out a 4:30 am to reach the club by 5:15 in order to undertake the infamous Point Bonita Swim. And once again fate interceded to foil my plan. The day began at the club to sign in and get numbered. Sixteen hearty souls hoped to make the 10K swim from the Marin side, north and west of the Golden Gate Bridge, back to the club. Each swimmer was to have their own pilot in a kayak or a wooden sliding seat row boat (very cool). So the wooden's and the Zodiac safety boats took off in the dark while the Swim Commissioner gave the swim briefing. She explained that we needed to get out there soon because the flood had already begun and there was increased vessel traffic after eight o'clock. We loaded about a dozen Kayaks onto the Silver Fox and took off. The sun came up as we headed out towards the bridge. It was stunningly beautiful and bright. Everyone was in high spirits. I was nervous because this would be the longest swim for me this winter and the bay is still 55 degrees. Well we reached the beautiful cove just inside Point Bonita, which has a lighthouse on it and a stunning cut out of the cliff where the waves have created a cave of sorts. The swimmers were all discussing whether we should do a beach start of just start from the boat. Tradition demanded a beach start, and as we worked to get the kayaks off the boat and ready to escort us home, vessel traffic contacted our head pilot and suggested that we NOT cross the mouth of the bay under the Golden Gate Bridge and perhaps we would be much safer starting from Mile Rock (a shipping buoy a mile west of the bridge on the south side). A suggestion from Vessel Traffic is not to be taken lightly. First they are responsible for every one's safety on the bay, second they control the behemoth super tankers that cannot actually stop even in case of an emergency, and lastly they are the people who grant us permits to swim and we don't want to piss them off, ever!
So now time is going by and we ask our kayakers and rowers to book it across the mouth of the bay so that we can jump from the south side and still catch the tide. The water outside the gate is rough and the kayakers were working hard to get to Mile Rock. Some capsized and had to be picked up by the zodiacs. The swimmers and boats were finally together west of the bridge and on the south side at Mile Rock. We hit the water at 8 am a good half an hour late. There are lots of things about open water swimming that make it challenging. Besides the cold water, and the waves and white caps, there are weird eddies, dead spots,and back eddies that you can get trapped in. Then there are places where a huge amount of water converges from different directions and creates what we affectionately call the "Potato Patch". It is an area near the Golden Gate Bridge towers and it looks more like a witch's cauldron at a roiling boil than the ocean. It is really cool, but hard to swim through. You can get a rhythm swimming in waves (sometimes when you're lucky) but in the potato patch you are hit from all sides and I swallowed water with almost every breath. But somehow it's just about as much fun as I can imagine out there. After being directed, and redirected, and redirected again I swam a zigzagy course to about the middle of the bridge deep into the patch. I always roll over on my back to go under the Golden Gate Bridge. It's just such a special experience I don't want to miss it. Jimmy, my pilot gave me something to drink and told me that I swam "slower than his Grandmother" and told me to get moving (this turned out to be what his college coaches used to say to him to get him moving, but I thought it was funny. The zodiac pilots kept coming over to tell us to get out of the shipping lane (where the fastest current is) and get closer to shore. Understand, we are about a mile off shore, but it seems much closer and swimmers are always looking for the "ride" that the current is supposed to provide. Jimmy told me to aim for the Palace of Fine Arts, but I couldn't see it from the water, so I aimed directly into the sun. Every time I had eye contact with him he was telling me to swim in closer to shore. I stopped to eat some GU, this nasty space age nutrition gel that comes in little foil packages that are easy to eat on the fly, and Jimmy told me that there was bad news; the tide had pretty much reached slack and was going to turn while we were still far from home. Or as he said, "You still have a lot of Bay to cover, GET GOING!" Some swimmers got stuck in the back eddy near Crissy Field and got pulled out entirely, but I didn't know this. I was happy just to keep swimming. Besides I couldn't ask for better training conditions for Gibraltar. They say that swimming the English Channel is a 20 mile warm-up for a 1 mile sprint because the in the last mile the tides get weird and you have to have something left in your tank to get through to shore. Gibraltar has something similar, and the last bit takes extra effort. So to lose the tide and have to swim harder to make any headway was terrific. My left shoulder is sore tonight, but swimming in waves is a lot more work that swimming smoothly in the pool and it will get better. After the swim and some well deserved time in the sauna, we had a communal breakfast and a lot of good conversation. Everyone was impressed with our spirit, flexibility and good fortune that we could pull this off with such aplomb.
As I was leaving, my friend Joe, who I swam across Lake Tahoe with last summer, asked me about my training. He is piloting Paul Saab (who also helped me cross Tahoe) in his bid to swim the English Channel this August. Well between the two of them, they were quick to decide that I am not doing enough to strengthen my core, my lats, or the little muscles that protect my shoulders. Joe took me up to the club's gym and showed my three "must do" exercises, all of which I can do at home. I learned a lot about fuel too. I definitely need more practice. I only ate/drank a few ounces once in the two and a half hours I was out there. I need to focus on these details and not worry so much about getting the swim done. I was worried that I would get too cold and not make it, but I should have worried more about not taking advantage of this perfect opportunity to train for what's ahead. It often seems like one step forward and two steps back. But this is why swimming never gets boring :-)