Once we arrived, I saw the sea conditions. My fears were surfacing as each wave crashed and rippled toward shore. I made the decision to be a good role model for my child and conquer some fears. I was the first one at sign up for the 750M swim. I greeted everyone and voiced my anxiety over the rough seas; many had the same retort - I no longer felt I was going to be the inexperienced swimmer who was afraid of what was to come. I slipped into my wetsuit and headed toward the beach.
There was a moment of internal calm. I took the opportunity to go over my mental checklist: "Just swim it, don't worry about racing it. Let everyone start ahead of you. Stay calm, breathe well, and site according to what I have done in practice". Then a silent prayer to allow everyone a safe passage and for me not to experience vertigo out there.
"Ready, Set, Go" lingered in the air as I walked behind the other swimmers, allowing them to enter the surf before me. I was calm and ready to correct the mistakes that I had made in Australia's 1km swim that I had done nearly a month ago.
The first waves hit hard. Swimming to the first buoy was going to take patience. I put my head down, plotted a mental strategy to view waves as a new challenge, breathe to the left on the back side to the second buoy, and allow the current to work with me on the homestretch. Next thing I knew, I heard a man yell "this is too rough, I'm done." I looked up and he was headed for a lifeguard kayak. My reaction? Think positively. I was still swimming and hadn't reached that point of defeat. I kept swimming. The waves were rocking me from side to side and smacking me in the face. I widened my arms from my usual pattern to stay balanced (which seemed to work well).
I heard a friend of mine say, "that's enough, I'm done." I saw that he was turned toward the surf. I yelled his name and told him I was right next to him and don't quit. "Ahhhh Damn" was his response. I told him to swim with me and we would make it. Shortly after, another swimmer screams out, "This is bull#$%&" as he backstroked his way to the first buoy, followed by, "I have never had to backstroke in a triathlon or any other swim race for that matter." After the swim my son said he heard me laughing all the way on-shore. We all started laughing hysterically at this swimmers rants (to include the lifeguard in the kayak). After our hearty laugh, all three of us put our faces in the water and off we swam.
At that moment, it was no longer my swim. My thoughts and ambitions were to help a friend reach the end and work together to ensure that we both succeeded. Rounding the first buoy was magic. No more riding the waves and drinking water. The current was now hitting us from the right side and I knew I was going to be just fine because I had disciplined myself when I first learned how to swim to breath bi-laterally. In training swims, I practice swimming from only the left or right side and then both to ensure that I wouldn't succumb to the difficulties of breathing while the water was crashing into me. I started to swim, really swim at this point.
I looked up and couldn't find my friend. I stopped, looked around and waited for him. He told me that he only breathes from the right side and he was drinking loads of water but otherwise he was OK. I repeated swimming and stopping to make sure we were together and he remained OK.
Nearing the second buoy I remember feeling very confident and happy with the applied sighting techniques that I had been practicing. Every time I looked up I was right on track. I never went off course or veered, I was right on the money.
As we rounded the second buoy I looked back and saw that my friend was fine and knew with great certainty that he would make it home with no problem so I put my head down and took off. I swam strong and continued to site on the last buoy beautifully. I wasn't afraid. I was in control.
I picked up the pace and realized I was all alone in this big beautiful body of water. I was surprised that the current wasn't working for me on the home stretch. I wasn't riding the waves to the finish line as I had expected. It took me some time to figure out why this was happening. I realized that the way the diagonal line cut across the sea was working slightly against the current. I watched a swimmer heading to shore in line with the current of the beach. I decided not to follow and stay true to my game plan of siting on the buoy regardless if that path required a bit more effort. Again, each time I looked up I was right in line with the triangular buoy. Then with great clarity and calm, I picked up the pace even more and I practiced siting on the 2 cones that marked the finish line.
I popped up as I hit the sand and a wave crashed into me from behind. I planted my feet so I wouldn't fall forward, then picked up my legs and ran home. I never looked at the time on the clock. I didn't care about anything other than if my friend was still behind me and if he was still swimming. Once I saw my friend exit, I felt triumph and success for both of us. A hearty hug, a debrief of the swim, and then cheers for the other swimmers as they ran onto the beach. I felt I had conquered so much!
At the awards ceremony my name was called and I felt great embarrassment as I knew that there was probably only a few of us in the category. I was grateful for the acknowledgment as I was a winner on a more personal level. When I become more comfortable with sighting, being alone in the big blue, and understanding how to swim the currents, the times I record in the pool will start to translate equally to open water swimming.
Next stop Singapore! My first open water swim was Australia, second Japan, third will be Singapore - not a bad swimming resume.
