Seriously, I have to be one of the most accident-prone individuals ever.

From split-open knees, raising my mother’s concern of aquatic ameboid infections, to asthma attacks, induced by over-inhalation of bleach and peroxide fumes when I refused to take breaks during team lab cleaning, I somehow manage to find creative ways to make training more difficult than necessary.

Today was no different.  It was a stunningly gorgeous day in San Francisco, the sort of sun-bathed, color-rich, warm breeze day you’d expect in May, not mid-November.  Wanting to take full advantage, I decided to go on a running tour of the SF bay prior to my swim in Aquatic Park.  iPod blasting, I set off along the water with Dave, reveling in the view as I opened my stride.

15 minutes later found me on the ground, gasping in pain.  I had managed to re-sprain, for the 3rd time no less, the ankle I injured via three ligament tears my senior year in college.

• Side note: people in SF are so awesome!  Within seconds of going down, I had 5 different individuals stop to ask whether I was okay, did I have a cell phone, did I need help, would I like a ride?  Wow, my faith in humanity has officially been confirmed.

With Dave’s help (poor guy, I totally ruined his training run), I managed to hobble back to the Dolphin Club.  Well, running was out, but there was no way I was going to miss a cold water training opportunity!  Gingerly, I taped the ankle so tightly that upon removing the tape an hour later, my skin was white and purple (Ha! That joint ain’t goin’ nowhere!), and limped my way down to the beach.

3 coves.  1 hour.  Okay.  Let’s do this.

The water was down below 57 today, hovering around 56.8 degrees.  Two coves in, the swim became a major struggle.  I’d lost feeling in my hands and toes during cove 2, which is pretty typical for me; now, however, my arms and legs went numb as well, and I felt stiff and choppy.  I wanted to get out, but I’d said 3 coves, not 2.  I needed to be tough.

For all of cove 3, I chanted cues to myself to maintain good technique because I couldn’t feel my stroke at all – head down, catch long, elbow up, bend, pull past leg, rotate hips, keep kicking! With a little over half a mile left in the swim, I started to get worried.  The pins-and-needles sensation I’d been feeling for 10 minutes was gone, replaced by a general chill leeching down toward my core. My body felt even stiffer.

Following what I’ve read in Lynne Cox’s book, I took stock of myself:  shoulders still reddish-tan, not blue or purple.  Good.  Am I shivering?  No, okay, good.  And breathing is normal, stroke rate is still up.  I’m okay.  But I knew I needed to get back – I’d never felt this cold in the water, and I was on the far side of the cove, where no one could see me, lost in the sunset’s shadow.

Pain pulsed through my hurt ankle, but I hardly cared – I started sprinting.  I had to get back and warm up.  I kicked hard, pulling as fast as I could.  I’d never been so happy to see that buoy line – 400 meters to go!  When I gratefully swam up to the beach, the combination of my chilled state, numbed legs, and obliterated ankle made standing problematic, and walking even more so.  But I’d done it – I stayed in water below 57 degrees for an hour.

Excellent!  We are making progress.

Now, what to do about this ankle…

Saturday in San Francisco dawned gray, windy, and wet.  We spent most of the day helping Dave move into his awesome new apartment in North Beach.

• Perhaps I should at this point explain the pivotal role Dave plays in this whole English Channel endeavor:  apart from ensuring I avoid disastrous aimless wanderings around SF, he graciously allows me to crash at his place on training weekends when I plan to be in the city longer than a few hours.  The guy is one of the kindest, most easy-going and generous individuals I’ve ever met!

By 4pm, it was raining harder than it had all day, but I had yet to get my swim on.  Seeing as how I’d be just as wet swimming in the cove in the sun as I would be in the rain, I grabbed my swim bag and headed off to the Dolphin Club with Neal. In a way, the rain made actually starting my swim somewhat easier.  I had 2 choices:  start swimming in the cold (56.5 degree) body of water, or stand on the beach shivering in the cold(er) falling water.

Let’s just say that today there was substantially less stalling to be had.

I never cease to be amazed at how differences in lighting can affect the appearance of the water while I’m swimming.  The stormy sky turned the water into liquid jade as I rose and dipped in the swells.  Everything looked surreal as I swam around the circumference of the cove with the rain gently pelting my body; all of my usual landmarks appeared altered and unrecognizable.  I’d never before seen the waters of the cove so turbulent; there were times when, swimming along the buoy line, I couldn’t make out the entrance of Aquatic Park leading into the open waters of the Bay.

My hands began to lose function after one lap of the cove, so I started to swim up and back along the buoy line as daylight began to fade.  The darkening of the sky turned the previously green water a beautiful slate blue as I loped along, annoyed at the water slipping through my separated fingers.  After 2 miles and nearly 40 minutes, I was definitely cold, but I wanted to keep swimming.  I really want to start pushing my limits a little:  people at the Club don’t seem to be concerned about being cold when they swim until they start to shiver, which I have never done, and the only way I’m going to be able to adapt is by pushing my tolerance barrier up.  However, with no one out swimming in the cove, the less than ideal weather, and darkness falling, I decided that maybe now would not be the best time to start testing myself – I headed back in.

Not too bad, though, for my coldest swim yet!

So I know it’s belated, but Happy Halloween!  I hope everyone had a fun time this past Friday…and that costumes were a component of your evening festivities.  I found myself on Halloween night trekking around San Francisco dressed as an evil fairy, desperately trying to overcome the immense travel obstacles of a big city to meet up with some friends.  Here is an account of what I went through in the name of being social:

• 8:30pm:  After calling 5 taxi services, one finally picks up.  I’m promised a cab “within the next 30 minutes.”
• 9:15:  After 45 minutes of chilling out in my spiderweb tights and massive black wings, and following 3 failed attempts to reach the taxi company, I am finally connected, only to be informed that “no cabs were available.”  Wish I’d known that an hour ago, but hey, the night is young, right?
• 9:20pm:  My friend Dave and I set out from his place to brave the windy drizzle.  After walking 5 blocks, we jump on the Muni (the SF metro service – I had no idea SF had an underground mass transport system!)
• 10pm:  After 25 minutes of battling mild claustrophobia (the T in Boston is dramatically more comfortable), we hop off the Muni at Union Square (halfway there!) in hopes of catching a cab. 15 minutes and as many unavailable cabs later, we realize the futility of our efforts and set off on foot for another couple of blocks to catch a bus.
• 10:30pm:  Our bus arrives!  I send my 20th text message assuring my friends that I am alive and I do, indeed, still intend to meet up with them.
• 10:50pm:  We exit the bus having successfully arrived in North Beach and, once again, set off on foot.  At this point, I am profusely grateful to have selected relatively comfortable footwear.  After a few relatively painless flat blocks, the mobile GPS (aka Dave and his iPhone 3G) directs us to an impressive 3 block, ridiculously steep uphill climb.  Feeling guilty that I have successfully reached my all-time tardiness record (2.5 hours late!) I charge up the hill like a woman on a mission with Dave in tow.
• 11:10pm:  Finally!  We arrive!  I walk in to my friend’s house…only to see my friends walking out.  Apparently, we have a new destination.  So, we walk back DOWN the hill I just sprinted up to catch a cab (where was this dude 2 hours ago?!) to yet a completely different part of town.

Whew!

I gotta tell ya, there are always adventures to be had, whether you’re training to perform some seemingly impossible feat of athleticism or merely battling your way through the obstacles of city life.  Let it be known that I no longer need a car to get around San Francisco!  (Major props to Dave, without whom I’d have been hopelessly lost).

And we did have fun, so it was worth it in the end.

Cheers!