3 mile swim
June 20, 2015, 9am
Total time: 1:50:07
2015 is the year of the swim, and the Mashpee Super Swim was my first distance swim of the season. I had done a 1 mile swim at the Landshark Swim in Amesbury a few weeks ago, which was a nice warm-up, but I feel like it's not worth writing a race report unless I'm scared to death, or doing something I've never done before, or something memorable happens like I get on the podium, or shit my pants mid-race (sadly, I think we all know which one of those two is likely to happen before the other.)
Since some of my regular readers aren't used to reading about swimming, now is a good time to show a rough comparison chart:
Run
|
Swim
|
Finishing
time (range)
|
5K/3.1 miles
|
1 mile
|
15:00-45:00
|
Half Marathon/13.1 miles
|
3 miles or 5K
|
1:15:00 – 2:30:00
|
Marathon/26.2 miles
|
6 miles or 10K
|
2:30:00 – 6:00:00
|
Ultra marathon (anything longer than 26.2 miles)
50K, 50M, 100K, 100M, etc.
|
Anything longer, from 10 miles to the English Channel swim (21+
miles) to Diana Nyad’s famous Cuba to Key West swim (100+ miles)
|
Hours to Days
|
I just made that chart up, so it's not like an industry standard or anything. I only put it in here because people either over-estimate or under-estimate the magnitude of a 3 mile swim. They either think it'll take me all day, or they say, "Shouldn't take that long, you run 3 miles all the time." For where I am in my swim fitness, a 3 mile swim is long enough that I need to train for it, but not too long that it impacts my life, and I can still be done before breakfast.
 |
| Pre-race lounging |
Right, so. Mashpee. Mashpee is a little town on the Cape which I'd never been to before. My GPS said it would take about and hour and forty minutes to get there. I wasn't sure if I'd hit cape traffic on the way there so I left a little extra early. I ended up getting to the race an hour and a half early, which is just right for triathlon standards, but tons of time for a swim race. I was already wearing my bathing suit, and I wasn't planning to wear a wetsuit, so basically, I was ready to go. The great thing about this race which I noticed right away is how many people where just chilling on the beach, in beach chairs, like it was any other summer day. At 7:30 in the morning. Naturally, I got my beach chair out of my trunk (which is in there for precisely situations like this -- always be prepared!), and I found a sunny spot and just sat. There was music playing over the speakers, and the first song I remember hearing was Indigo Girl's "Watershed" which has some relevant lyrics like, "I better learn how to swim, because the crossing is chilly and wide." "You can stand there and agonize, til your agony's your heaviest load." And I realized how free I felt, because I felt no agony today, no nervousness, no fear. Even though I've never done a 3 mile race, I had covered the distance once in training, so I had a sort of quiet confidence. I knew I'd be towards the back of the pack upon finishing, and even that was good to know and accept ahead of time.
Once it was finally race time, we gathered for quick announcements and the national anthem, then the 3 milers got into the water for an in-water start. The 1-milers and 1/2 milers would start in staggered waves behind us. The race course was a 1-mile rectangle, which I would do 3 times.
I usually get caught up in the surge at the start of a race and then settle into a rhythm, but for this start, I purposely hung back and tried to get into a rhythm immediately. There really weren't many swimmers near me at all because we spread out so fast. There was another swimmer who was with me for the first mile and a half. I would draft off of his left side for a while but his tempo was just a tad slower than mine, so then I'd go ahead, he'd pass me, etc. etc. At the first buoy turn at the far end of the rectangle, I had my first sighting mishap. Usually I'm pretty good about sighting but somehow I must have taken the buoy turn too sharply, and I started swimming to the wrong buoy across the middle of the rectangle. One of the kayakers had to cut me off with her kayak and tell me that I was going the wrong way. She was very polite about it. I felt like a dummy, but just started swimming toward the correct buoy. The GPS map of my swim doesn't make this mistake look as bad as it felt. As I finally caught back up to the stream of swimmers, I realized how many 1 milers were now in the mix. It was a busy first loop, and I was looking forward to loop 2.
I had set the timer on my watch to buzz every 40 minutes. My goal was 40 minutes per mile. I had finished the 1 mile Landshark Swim in just under 40 minutes a few weeks ago, and since I'm good at endurance but not speed, I figured I could maintain the same speed for 3 times the distance. As I rounded the first buoy that marked the beginning of the rectangle, I still hadn't felt my watch buzz, which meant I had swum the first mile in less than 40 minutes. I was about a third of the way down the side of the course before I heard it buzz, so I knew I was making pretty good time. A few minutes after the watch buzz, I stopped for a nutrition break. Taking nutrition in a swim race like this means treading water to fetch the food you've stuffed down your bathing suit top, eating it, stashing the trash back in your suit, and continuing on. Immediately after I started up again, the guy from the first loop was back, and again, he was ever so casually in my way. He cut me off at a weird angle, so then I cut behind him to pass him on his left side, but he managed to stay right in front of me, and then he just came to a complete stop. I had no right to be annoyed, since I had just stopped for my own nutrition break. I didn't want to be doing this little cha-cha for another mile and a half, so I surged ahead and that was the last time I saw him. It was actually nice to be swimming all alone. For the rest of my 2nd loop, I had a little bit of company because all of the faster 3 milers were lapping me as they finished up their race. I actually kind of liked it because it was fun to see people swim by me.
For the 3rd loop, I really was all alone. I spent about 80% of the 3rd loop trying to figure out why the other 3-milers only lapped me once and not twice. I even changed the mental analogy to 2 people walking 3 laps around a track, and I tried to envision how one person could walk 3 laps and only pass the slower person once. It's really not that difficult to figure out, but during that 3rd loop, I was completely stumped. So when someone asks, "What do you think about while you're swimming?" now I have an answer. It was hard to tell if my last mile was my fastest. In stretches where the water was calm, I really felt like I was flying. But then there were some stretches where there was a lot of chop -- either from the wind, or from some of the motorized boats that were creating a wake. Only once did I have to stop and get my bearings because the waves were disorienting. I said something to the kayaker who was floating along beside me. When she saw me stop, she said, "are you ok?" and I said, "Tell them to stop making waves!" then I realized how bitchy i must have sounded, so I said, "Just kidding!" which doesn't actually even make any sense. It didn't really matter because I kept on swimming and that was my final leg into shore.
Right before I got out of the water to run across the finish line, I had to make a minor wardrobe adjustment. I was sort of crouched in the water, trying to shove a very buoyant boob back into my suit. The people working the finish line must have thought I thought I was done, because they were yelling, "Keep going! You have to come out and cross the line!" A quick tuck and a yank of the suit, and I was out of the water and crossing the line. Final time was 1:50:07. I had beat my goal time of 2 hours (40 minutes per mile) by just about 10 minutes, AND I wasn't dead last. The guy who I passed on loop 2 finished less than 2 minutes behind me. A 3 mile race with every time under 2 hours is pretty impressive. I am looking forward to doing more swim races, and maybe even moving up in the rankings a little bit, although I'm happy with last place as long as I can stay relaxed and happy like I was today.
 |
| Calm before the swim storm |
I usually get caught up in the surge at the start of a race and then settle into a rhythm, but for this start, I purposely hung back and tried to get into a rhythm immediately. There really weren't many swimmers near me at all because we spread out so fast. There was another swimmer who was with me for the first mile and a half. I would draft off of his left side for a while but his tempo was just a tad slower than mine, so then I'd go ahead, he'd pass me, etc. etc. At the first buoy turn at the far end of the rectangle, I had my first sighting mishap. Usually I'm pretty good about sighting but somehow I must have taken the buoy turn too sharply, and I started swimming to the wrong buoy across the middle of the rectangle. One of the kayakers had to cut me off with her kayak and tell me that I was going the wrong way. She was very polite about it. I felt like a dummy, but just started swimming toward the correct buoy. The GPS map of my swim doesn't make this mistake look as bad as it felt. As I finally caught back up to the stream of swimmers, I realized how many 1 milers were now in the mix. It was a busy first loop, and I was looking forward to loop 2.
I had set the timer on my watch to buzz every 40 minutes. My goal was 40 minutes per mile. I had finished the 1 mile Landshark Swim in just under 40 minutes a few weeks ago, and since I'm good at endurance but not speed, I figured I could maintain the same speed for 3 times the distance. As I rounded the first buoy that marked the beginning of the rectangle, I still hadn't felt my watch buzz, which meant I had swum the first mile in less than 40 minutes. I was about a third of the way down the side of the course before I heard it buzz, so I knew I was making pretty good time. A few minutes after the watch buzz, I stopped for a nutrition break. Taking nutrition in a swim race like this means treading water to fetch the food you've stuffed down your bathing suit top, eating it, stashing the trash back in your suit, and continuing on. Immediately after I started up again, the guy from the first loop was back, and again, he was ever so casually in my way. He cut me off at a weird angle, so then I cut behind him to pass him on his left side, but he managed to stay right in front of me, and then he just came to a complete stop. I had no right to be annoyed, since I had just stopped for my own nutrition break. I didn't want to be doing this little cha-cha for another mile and a half, so I surged ahead and that was the last time I saw him. It was actually nice to be swimming all alone. For the rest of my 2nd loop, I had a little bit of company because all of the faster 3 milers were lapping me as they finished up their race. I actually kind of liked it because it was fun to see people swim by me.
For the 3rd loop, I really was all alone. I spent about 80% of the 3rd loop trying to figure out why the other 3-milers only lapped me once and not twice. I even changed the mental analogy to 2 people walking 3 laps around a track, and I tried to envision how one person could walk 3 laps and only pass the slower person once. It's really not that difficult to figure out, but during that 3rd loop, I was completely stumped. So when someone asks, "What do you think about while you're swimming?" now I have an answer. It was hard to tell if my last mile was my fastest. In stretches where the water was calm, I really felt like I was flying. But then there were some stretches where there was a lot of chop -- either from the wind, or from some of the motorized boats that were creating a wake. Only once did I have to stop and get my bearings because the waves were disorienting. I said something to the kayaker who was floating along beside me. When she saw me stop, she said, "are you ok?" and I said, "Tell them to stop making waves!" then I realized how bitchy i must have sounded, so I said, "Just kidding!" which doesn't actually even make any sense. It didn't really matter because I kept on swimming and that was my final leg into shore.
Right before I got out of the water to run across the finish line, I had to make a minor wardrobe adjustment. I was sort of crouched in the water, trying to shove a very buoyant boob back into my suit. The people working the finish line must have thought I thought I was done, because they were yelling, "Keep going! You have to come out and cross the line!" A quick tuck and a yank of the suit, and I was out of the water and crossing the line. Final time was 1:50:07. I had beat my goal time of 2 hours (40 minutes per mile) by just about 10 minutes, AND I wasn't dead last. The guy who I passed on loop 2 finished less than 2 minutes behind me. A 3 mile race with every time under 2 hours is pretty impressive. I am looking forward to doing more swim races, and maybe even moving up in the rankings a little bit, although I'm happy with last place as long as I can stay relaxed and happy like I was today.
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