This is a story from the past. Its the story of my first every open water triathlon experience in Lough Cutra in Galway in May 2018. And it was a car crash of epic proportions. Imagine being that guy. I was. Imagine everything going wrong. It did. Imagine how much prep you put in. I didnt. Imagine not knowing what to expect and then it being way way way worse that that. It was so grim, embarrassing and crazy somehow Ive kept it locked up inside until now. On the bright side it gave me a massive boot up the backside that was needed to actual prepare for open water swimming.
If I was to give one pice of advice, it is NOT like swimming in a pool. Do not make that mistake. And do not practise in the shower. Even when the shower is cold it is NOT like a lake in Galway.
Our story starts with as per previous blogs by drive to learn to swim. This all happened in a pool firstly with swim lessons and then a triathlon coach programme including a swim session so yes I had done everything I needed to learn to swim, get a better technique and then finally get fit. I was all set.
I completed a Sprint triathlon in Nenagh in April in the pool and all was good. I could swim in a triathlon. Check. Then in May I was ready for an Olympic distance in the open water. I was all set. Just buy a wetsuit and Im good to go. So I bought a wetsuit on the wednesday before the race on saturday and it was a lovely wetsuit. Hard to put on but thats the point, light, floatable (to support my poor leg kick) and fucking aerodynamic. I was going to swim like a fish, or a seal. I was sure of it. In the end I swan like a dog.
Having not had time or decided it was unneccessary to actual apply some logic and test out the wetsuit in actual open water I hit the shower on Friday evening after work. Having spend a very long time actually getting into the wetsuit, being very careful not to damage the delicate neoprene material, I then damaged the material tore the suit and was very angry with myself for damaging a small fortune of wetsuit before even wearing it. I eventually got over the initial anger of that, kinda and then hopped into the shower, warm at first no need to be crazy, its May, the lake will probably be warm, and then just to be sure I turned the shower right down all the way to the bottom. It was cold, as would be expected. I moved around a little, let some cold water over my head and into the suit and that was it. The practise session was over. I was ready to go. It was going to be great.
Saturday morning, usual nervous, but thats ok, its normal. Details aside I arrive on time, stow my bike, sort my transistions and stand into my new torn, repaired wetsuit. I am ready.
We go to the edge of the lake. I am ready to start the race. The race starts in the middle of the lake. I am not ready for that. We move to the startline in the middle of the lake. It makes sense now. We swim down around a bouy and back up to exit and head for the bikes.
We tread water. I am fine. This will be fine
The starting hooter goes. Everyone starts to swim. I forgot how to swim. Everyone is gone. Luckily not everyone, one guys is still here. Btilliant! I am not the worst. He angrily shots at himself in the water. Sort yourself out Oull yourself together! And with that he is gone. I am the worst. I am still at the start line.Lying there just floating, slighty panicing. And then more panicing but not slight, fully. I am going to die here. I cant swim. My mind is engulfed with fear and dispair. A support canoe rows over and asks if I am ok. I can barely see the other people now in the distance, just some gentle splashing. I say I am ok. I am not ok. I start to doggy paddle. Its grim. Its embarrassing. But I dont know how to swim. 6 weeks of swim lessons, swim tests and 5 months of swim training and I cant do it. I cant touch the bottom, I cant remember how to breath, I cant touch the bottom, I am cold, it is vast, I cant touch the bottom.
I start to doggy paddle. Its only 1.5km, 1500 metres. I can get through this. If your wondering doggy paddling is not as quick or efficient as normal swimming. But the fear of putting my face in the water is too great. I am very tired. I stop to float. Ive "swam" about 20 metres. An entire support canoe is just behind me. He was not expecting this today. He asks if I want to hold on for a rest. A rest after a solid 20metre doggy paddle into a 1500m race. This is going to be a long day for both of us.
And so the embarrassing journey continues. I doggy paddle for a while, what feels like an age, I get very tired, my neck doesnt bend like that for such a long time. This is why nobody doggy paddles the swim in a triathlon. Tis is not going to work. I need to remeber how to swim. Its easy. Head into water. Stroke right arm, stroke left arm, lift head to the right, breath and repeat. Simple. I try. I fail. Its cold. I think on reflection I wasnt expecting the coldness of the water on my face and also the taste of the water. No clorine. And maybe some fear of death. I inhale deeply mouthfuls of lakewater. Death is coming. I flip onto my back coughing and spluttering. My personal canoe chaperone asks if I want to hold on again. He wonders how long he will be out here tonight. I wonder how long before Im forced to stop.
Somehow stopping never appears as an opption to me. Survival. So there I am holding on, almost numerous metres into the race and there I see it up ahead, a lady being dragged into a boat. I celebrate internally. This is brilliant. I am officailly not last. I may be last but Im still ni the race. I feel I can do this. But not the easy way Ive trained. Only my process of doggy paddle. If youve ever seen a dog swim with his little nose in the air and his little paws moving for dear life, that is me.
And so this contimues, Ive given up on normal swimming, just doggy paddle, rest on canoe, repeat. I feel like Im cheating resting on a canoe but I dont care. This is now survival. Another canoe appears, Not there are 2 flanking me. I somehow reach the turning point, 750m to the end. No I havent passed out anyone. Yes I am still last. Will this ever end. It is agony. Physically, Mentally and socially, I feel judged by the volunteers in the canoes. This is horrific.
I am that guy. It can only get better.
It doesnt. It gets worse. My pathetic survival system continues. The only difference is that I now have a choice of 4 canoes to choose to rest on. I am that guy. The guy I thought I never could be. I though there are so many people in this race, in every triathlon so theres no chance I can be that person in last place, The very last one and here I am.
Back on the shore my wife and son are watching for me to get to transition and onto the bike. They can only see one person swimming in the water and 4 canoes, and now the rescue rib. They go again to check my bike.
In another world, on the side of the lake where everyone has gotten out
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