When you start to dabble in the stuff of adventure, you start to meet all kinds of interesting people. Prior to getting involved yourself, you’d definitely say they were crazy. Bonkers. Missing a few marbles. What kind of person actually derives pleasure in subjecting their body to extreme conditions, putting themselves through some masochistic test of the human ability to endure?
Answer? All kinds. Young, old, great athletes, average athletes, wealthy, not so wealthy…
There is a common feeling of camaraderie fostered in places like the Dolphin Club that can be summed up in the words of my dear friend Reuben Hechanova: “We are all equal opportunity supporters of crazy people.” It’s funny how we all seem eager to jump up and help our comrades fulfill their dreams of self-torture. The South End Club is the same way. When you’re in an environment like this, where people not only understand the extreme but encourage it, it’s weird how “crazy” quickly becomes “cool.”
You want to swim continuous trips around Alcatraz and back for 8 hours, dodging huge cargo ships in one of the busiest shipping channels over and over again? Sweet! Wish I’d thought of that. Can I do one of the laps with you?
You want to swim the English Channel? Go for it! I’ll meet you here at 4am on a Saturday and we’ll do a 4 hour swim in the dark to get you ready.
You want to swim 40 miles in 3 days in 50 degree water in the middle of winter? Great! I’ll spend most of my Christmas vacation making you hot drinks to warm you up.
When you’re with people who “get it,” the impossible becomes possible, both because you alter your perspective AND because you discover a cult of people who actually want to get up early/freeze outside in the wind/swim beside you/fetch you food/sit in a row boat for hours/get wet/coach you through the lows/spend their entire day forgetting about their own comforts and goals all to help you. They’ve been there, and they know what it’s like. People were there for them. Now you need them, and you know it…and there they are, supporting you every step, stroke, or pedal of the way. It’s pretty rad.
Beware, though…once you take that first step into madness, once you feel the thrill of adventure, you open a Pandora’s Box of possibilities. Without realizing it, you become one of the crazies.
This Sunday will be my longest training swim so far, 6 hours out in the San Francisco Bay. Dolphin Club Rowing Commissioner and Pilot Extraordinaire Reuben Hechanova designed the course you see above. We aim to start from the Dolphin Club at 7:30am, head around Alcatraz and Treasure Islands, under the Bay Bridge toward Candlestick park, and return to the Dolphin Club along the waterfront to wrap things up at 1:30pm. At which point we will grab some yummy Ahi Tuna sandwiches at the conveniently located Blue Mermaid Restaurant.
I’m really excited because my family will be up again for the swim! My dad, mom, and sister will be out on the water cheering me on, along with usual suspects Reuben and Neal, and with Dave Hollembaek captaining the Arias. Here’s the breakdown:
Reuben, Neal, and Dad in one of the gorgeous DC rowboats.
Dave, Mom, and Karri in the Arias (zodiac).
I’m aiming to treat this swim exactly as I would the real Channel swim, from the feeding schedule, to the food, to the boat position, etc…maybe we’ll even throw in a few twists or two, like changing out goggles or something. It will also be a chance for Mom and Karri to learn how to “feed me” in case they are called upon to perform this task in England.
I”ve been training really well all week. This morning, I did 9k in the pool, then headed to the Bay for a 4 mile swim right after. The water has been very warm (59-60 this morning) and I’ve been feeling strong. My shoulder is still hanging in there, and my foot, I am happy to report, is still attached despite the pain in my ankle. I’ll get in a good long training session on Friday, take Saturday completely off and cheer on in the Dolphin Club/South End Club Golden Gate Bridge swim, and be ready to bring it on Sunday morning!
My 5 hour swim on Saturday was incredible! I had a blast, and I realized that I’m the luckiest girl ever. I had so many wonderful people out supporting me – check out the support team breakdown:
In the Farrell – Reuben (Senior Pilot and navigator), Neal (Co-pilot and chef), and Daddy (photographer and videographer)
In the Arias – Dave (Captain and boat deflector), Mom (head cheerleader and occasional commando), and Old Grand Dad (champion open water swimmer and Laurin Fan).
We started at the Dolphin Club at 8:05am and headed toward the Bay Bridge. Neal and my parents prepared a wonderful surprise for me in the form of large poster boards with uplifting or funny messages written on them. Neal or my dad flashed them at me often during the swim. So freakin’ cool!
30 minutes into the swim, I found my stride, and started flying. The water was warm! 57-58 degrees, warm enough such that my hands did not splay for the entire swim! After months of swimming with claws for hands, that alone was super exciting.
We passed under the Bay Bridge and continued on toward AT&T Park. The sun came out from behind the clouds as we rounded the bend, and the stadium loomed above us, breathtakingly beautiful from the water.
Everything just went perfectly. Neal warmed up my GU before putting it into the GU Gel Bot (an awesome contraption that allows you to have GU and a drink of your choice in the same vessel), so for the first time I was able to actually able to get the GU out of the Gel Bot and decreased my feeding time to about 25 seconds. My friends and family cheered me on for the entire 5 hours, clapping, waving signs, laughing, making me feel strong and happy. Dave made sure no boats ran me over. The sun came out 2 hours in, warming my back as I swam. I felt fast, I felt strong, I felt warm, and I felt loved. I couldn’t help but smile as I swam.
Our only mishap was misjudging the currents – I ended up swimming into a very strong flood current. But hey, fighting a crazy current is good training, too.
I’m humbled to know that so many people care about me and want to see me reach my goals. It’s amazing how fun training can be when you have such a plethora of love and support. A huge thank you to all of my supporters on Saturday!!
It’s 8:30 on a gray, cold, misty Sunday morning. I’ve only been swimming for an hour, and things are not going well. I feel colder than I did at the end of my 3 hour swim 2 weeks ago, and I’m starting to freak out a little – I’m supposed to do 4 hours today. How on earth am I going to make it if I’m already this cold?
I try not to think about it, but 30 minutes later, my teeth start chattering. I’ve never, never been so cold that my teeth chatter while swimming.
Neal waves me over to the boat and tosses me a bottle of hot jasmine tea laced with sugar. It tastes and feels delicious.
“You’re doing great! Your stroke rate is holding steady at 35 cycles per minute.” I nod.
“I’m very cold,” I say softly.
“There are dolphins swimming with you!” Reuben calls, his huge grin infectious. “Just over there!”
I turn and see a flash of something dark and sleek a couple of yards away. I can’t help but smile – I love dolphins. Okay, suck it up, I tell myself. The Bay Bridge looks so close. You can at least make it there.
As I swim, the ebb hitting me full in the face and reducing my speed to a mere fraction of what it could be, I continue to deteriorate. A war begins to rage in my head. One voice tells me to be tough, to not give up, to keep going as long as possible. The other voice tells me that I’m not tough enough, that this is the most miserable experience ever, that I hate being cold and am therefore clinically nuts to intentionally put myself in the path of hypothermia.
My arms keep turning over, and I keep moving forward. I don’t want to let Rueben and Neal down – they didn’t get up at 6am on a Sunday to have me wimp out after 2 hours! But that second voice keeps getting louder. Reuben looks a little worried. I don’t know it, but my lips look ashen.
I look up, and realize that we’ve made it to the Bay Bridge! With relief, I ask if we can go home now.
“Almost – let’s just make it past the middle of the bridge,” Reuben coaxes me.
Inside, I’m raging at him. Hello, I still have to get BACK to the Dolphin Club! But okay, fine – I keep my mouth shut, put my head down, and keep swimming away from home. I have to admit – now that I’m under it, the Bay Bridge looks really cool soaring above me. The anger in my head abates. The panicky feeling does not.
“Okay, Laurin, this is the fun part!” Neal calls. He doesn’t need to elaborate – I now get to ride the ebb home! I do a flip in the water to ease my hips and legs for a moment – they feel so stiff – and pop up swimming in the direction of the Club. My teeth are chattering harder now, and shivers are running down my body, aching. It’s hard to breathe through my clenched teeth. Without waiting for the boat to turn around, I take off, sprinting in desperation for home.
In a few strokes, the boat pulls alongside me again. Neal and Reuben smile encouragingly, and I can see them clapping when I turn my head to breathe. The cold feels like rivers of ice in my core. I really, really want to climb into the boat and huddle on the floor under wool blankets while they power me back to the Club.
“I will not get in the boat. I will not get in the boat. I will get back to the Dolphin Club under my own power. I will not get in the boat.” I chant the mantra in my head like a broken record. I don’t care now whether I make it to 4 hours or not. My goal now is to maintain my pride: I don’t care about anything except not getting out of the water until I walk up the Dolphin Club beach.
We fly past the landmarks that seemed to go by so slowly the way out. Alcatraz has never looked so beautiful.
3 hours and 5 minutes after my start, I stumbled gratefully out of the water and shivered up the Dolphin Club stairs to the sauna. I tried not to be too upset with myself: it wasn’t as though I’d just wimped out, letting my mind defeat me. My body physically shut down in the cold, and I knew there was no way I could have stayed in another hour today. I was proud of myself for not asking to be rowed home. However, I also hadn’t made my 4 hour swim. It was hard not to beat myself up over that.
Talking to Reuben over breakfast, I finally began to see today as a success, and not a failure. I’d pushed myself farther than ever before, and I knew now that I could tolerate swimming while shivering with my teeth chattering for over an hour. It’s good to know that about myself. It’s good to feel out the edge of my limits and discover new physical landmarks. Next time, I won’t be so scared.
I may have only barely surpassed my last swim, but I did it in much more difficult conditions:
Water: 54 degrees (56 last time)
Air: 52 degrees (66 last time)
Sky: dark and misty (bright and sunny last time) <– (okay, so that’s mostly mental, but it makes a difference!)
My conversation with Reuben reminded me that this is why we use “practice” as a synonym for “training.” When you train, you push yourself into new territories, and you practice what the real event will be like. Yes, I didn’t meet my goal this time. But I pushed myself, I learned new things about myself, I learned that I could keep going when I feel miserable, and I didn’t give up.
I could not have done this well today without Reuben and Neal – thank you both so much!!
Well, the swims continue to increase in duration! On Saturday, I did a 3 hour swim out in the San Francisco Bay. The course, above, was designed by Reuben, my wonderful pilot and SF Bay guru. I went against the current for most of it, then flew back with the current at the end. It was very similar to my 2 hour a few weeks ago, only this time I nearly made it to the Golden Gate Bridge. Which is actually a little scary at 11am on a Saturday, given that boat traffic picks up considerably. Still, I had Reuben to guide me and Neal to time and feed me, so I was well taken-care-of.
Unlike my 2 hour swim, I followed orders and ate (1 GU) and drank (250-300mL of GU2O or jasmine tea with sugar – delicious!) every half hour. It made a huge difference! The water was still quite cold (55-56 degrees), but I stayed relatively comfortable and my body felt fine at the end as far as fatigue goes. I really felt like I could have swum for hours more. Amazing what nutrition will do for you. I’m still having hip flexor issues – they were burning like crazy at the conclusion of 3 hours. Duke, a Channel swimmer at the Dolphin Club, recommended I curl up in a ball for a quick second at every feeding to help this and to prevent my back from getting too stiff. I think I”ll try that next time.
I started cruising a bit too much during the last hour – my stroke rate noticeably declined. Another thing I’m going to start doing is to record my CPM (cycles per minute) every hour, and focus on keeping it consistent for the duration of the swim. All in all, though, this 3 hour went very well.
Next on the list: 4 hours at the end of May. Woohoo!
masochistic test of the human ability to endure?
to jump up and help our comrades fulfill their dreams of self-torture. The South End Club is the same way. When you’re in an environment like this, where people not only understand the extreme but encourage it, it’s weird how “crazy” quickly becomes “cool.”
busiest shipping channels over and over again? Sweet! Wish I’d thought of that. Can I do one of the laps with you?
you up.
Beware, though…once you take that first step into madness, once you feel the thrill of adventure, you open a Pandora’s Box of possibilities. Without realizing it, you become one of the crazies.
