4.4 Mile Great Chesapeake Bay Swim

Before getting into the details. I finished. TRIgirl JH, too. Without a wetsuit I might add!

I am glad I didn't write this race report right after the swim. Reflecting for a bit has helped me gain some insight.

The swim was hard. Much harder than I thought it would be.

Physically tough, yes. But, what I've come to realize, mentally even more so.

I went into the race thinking it would be long, leisurely swim, kind of like what the Cap to Cap was for the bike a few weeks ago.

I'd be able to cruise along since I wouldn't have to worry about sighting - not with such a huge bridge surrounding me.

I thought it would be like swimming two extra loops on the beautiful IMFL course.

I was wrong.

I didn't sleep very well the night before. I was excited and nervous, but not really in a bad way. Though the race didn't start until 10:00, I woke up around 6:30 to eat a PBJ, down some coffee - and then drive over to the finish where shuttle buses waited (well, where we waited and waited for the shuttles) to take us back over the bridge to the start. Many standing in the bus line were sporting swim club or college shirts. There were a few tri tees and ironman tattoos - but you could tell - this was a group of serious swimmers.

Then more waiting. Thankfully, TRIgirl JH and a few other new friends helped the time go by until the pre-race meeting. The race director shared tips about the current (thank goodness I listened). Anyone not able to stay within the span of bridges would be quickly escorted out of the water.

It was hot (The heat index would be 110 degrees - and I thought about TRIgirl SE who was about 30 miles away racing Eagleman). Pulling the wetsuit over my sweaty body was tiring. TRIgirl JH and I dunked ourselves in the water. The bay felt great. It looked calm. Little swells here and there, but no whitecaps or noticeable chop. Then it was time to end the warm-up - for the official mass beach start. I stayed back and let the aggressive swimmers go ahead. For awhile, I kept up with a group of swimmers.

We swam from the beach to where the pylons opened up. Everything was going well. Swimming under the bridge was surreal and awesome - looking up and seeing the huge structure - and then looking ahead and seeing nothing but more bridge and water. I was feeling good and strong until the first mile buoy (the only one I would see for the day). Right around that time I started to notice the current. It seemed to be intensifying, gradually pushing me to the left. I continued swimming. Being a predominately right side breather, I didn't notice how close I was to being off course - until I stopped and turned to the left. Yikes. I swam furiously to be more in the middle again. As TRIgirl JH said - it was like an endless pool - a treadmill of water. The next mile became a battle to not be pushed out again. I would focus on pylon after pylon at a 45 degree angle and sight. Every once in awhile I'd look forward - and could tell just how crablike my body was positioned.

I was pulling - hard - not to go fast - but to just keep moving along. It seemed like forever. Kayakers were everywhere, which was reassuring. Swimmers were nowhere, which was not. I stopped and talked to a kind kayaker who was cruising along next to me. I was worried maybe I wasn't going to make the second mile cut-off. She told me I was fine and well within the cut-off - the second mile was just ahead. Back to swimming, stroke after stroke. Around this time, I saw the first cap from the "fast wave." He was way ahead of the rest of his group - and cut through the water with grace and ease.

The current was supposed to be completely calm in the middle before switching directions. It did ease up a bit, but hung around until almost the third mile (around the time I paused to chat with another kayaker). I didn't perceive much of a break at all. Then the push to the right began.

At least it was easier to keep track as I was breathing to the right. With minor adjustments here and there, I was swimming fairly straight. Finally a few more caps from my wave.

Left arm, right arm, pull, pull, pull. I felt the effects of the current fighting in my arms. Every so oftern, I'd kick harder to give my arms a break. I looked ahead - yay - land - time to leave the span and swim back in, right? I asked a kayaker where the turnout was, he replied, "Not for awhile, you still have another mile left before you head out."

What?

Another mile!

But the shore is RIGHT there?

I went from excited to deflated. And went back to swimming. The current was still annoying, but familiar - and a few larger swells were giving me nice little rides.

Then, the most beautiful big pink and blue buoy - it was time to leave the bridge span.

And about another quarter mile of swimming until the finish line.

I remembered that a swimmer before the race had told me that at this point, you could walk into the beach if needed. I put my feet down and touched the sandy bottom. Standing up for a few minutes felt great. I ran a few steps and went back to swimming. For the first time in hours, the current was gone - just easy swimming. Ahhh, a tiny taste of what I'd been hoping for all morning long.

And finally, I stood up for good and crossed the timing mats. I felt dazed and tired. The clock read 3:15. I'd hoped to finish in under 3 hours. 562/602 swimmers. Back at the bottom of the list!

But the race I'd envisioned was much different than reality. I was grateful to have finished at all.

My head was throbbing, probably from no food or drink. I grabbed some water, found my gym bag and threw on a pair of shorts. Looking for some food - I ran into TRIgirl JH and her family! She had finished a few minutes before me. Her family was so supportive and kind. Her kids, so proud. Her thoughtful mom even bought a 4.4 swim sticker for me (thank you!!!).

We compared notes - and nearby swimmers chimed in. It had been a tough year. One woman said this was her eleventh swim - and though she was in better shape, this was her second slowest time.

If you asked me yesterday - and a few folks did - I would have told you the Great Chesapeake Bay Swim was an amazing accomplishment, but I wouldn't do it again.

But now, a day later, I think I might. Maybe not 2009, but a couple years out.

Next time, I'll know what to expect.

To pack for battle instead of vacation.