IMUSA - Race Report - The Swim

After over a week of highs and lows, I’m starting to feel focused enough to pull together a race report for IMUSA.

It was a long and tough and - sometimes - amazing - day.

After a few hours of sleep, the Barricudas and I lumbered about in the kitchen, trying to eat. I managed to swallow down a PBJ, half a banana and juice. Carrying a water bottle (which I would later wonder if should have been a Gatorade) and with the hubby and my Dad sherpa-ing my bike and special needs bags, we made our way down to bodymarking. In my delirious stupor, I told the volunteer the wrong age for my calf. My husband quickly noticed, though I figured it didn’t matter since the number was still in the same age group.

Barracuda BN headed off to find his place near the start of the swim, as Barracuda BL and I ran into a few of our Richmond crew for final hugs and encouraging words.

Soon we were in the water- acclimating – and waiting. I tried to position myself in the middle of the middle of the pack. Which should have created a cushion since the super fast swimmers were huddled under the start and more cautious folks were gathered on shore. The canon sounded, and within seconds that cushion was a memory. I remembered the craziness from IMFL and tried to go with it. Before the second buoy, my foot and someone’s something banged together – and a toe started to feel funny. I figured it was stubbed – and plugged on through the maniacs fighting to sight off the cable.

Meanwhile, a downpour hit Mirror Lake. Several times, I was caught behind a wall of men stubbornly trying to plow through me to reach the cable. I did not care about the cable – but I was gradually being pushed onto it. I was amazed that these men would repeatedly hit me – though the water was clear and calm. “Hello – if you are swimming at my pace – you are not going to win – and maybe you should adjust your stroke after slamming my head four times in a row.” The first loop was a struggle and most of the time, I would concede to the aggressive swimmers. My calves cramped up several times. No idea why – as this had never happened to me during a race. But I’d move forward swimming with my foot contracted waiting for them to subside.

The whole first loop was crazy. Exiting onto the beach, I looked for something to drink, thinking Gatorade might help with the cramping, but didn’t see an aid station.

Back in the water, I purposefully tried to move further out from the cable. The crowd had lessened, but I still found myself being pushed onto the cable. I did finally find a pair of steady, consistent feet (not as good as the Real Deal's, but would do) and drafted for awhile, relaxing a bit and finally enjoying the swim.

Rounding the last turn, I ended up behind a man swimming with his feet crossed.

Which is a super hard drill Ironwoman Canada makes us try.

This guy, though, was doing an amazing job – his feet never dropped or moved. I wondered if he was a paraplegic – and felt inspired by the possibility I was witnessing a human interest story about an individual overcoming incredible challenges to complete an Ironman.

The racers jammed up again toward the end of the swim. I was relieved to climb out of the water – and see my swim time of 1:20:32.