Newburgh-Beacon to Bear Mountain

Usually before a big swim I get a little nervous. Usually this is just about the swim. On Wednesday I was nervous about the swim, about the drive, and about rolling out of the house in the early morning with two little kids in tow.Turns out they were great. We got to the Beacon metro-north station with time to spare and I could see Launch 5 on the dock.
I got gooped up (diaper cream), the rest of the swimmers and kayakers arrived, and we all piled onto Launch 5 to head out to the starting point just north of the Newburgh-Beacon Bridge. I thought about the last time I swam this way and that made me feel good.
Once in the water there was a count down from ten and then we were swimming.
Maybe there are other swimmers that don't experience this, but for me everything always feels terrible at the start of a swim. The water feels cold even when I know the temperature is fine. Breathing feels hard. My arms hurt. Maybe this is a question of experience but all that didn't feel so bad this time. Or maybe I was just happy to see the bridge disappear so fast.
I felt a tiny little twinge in my left hip flexor, like it was about to cramp up. It didn't.
My feeds were evenly spaced 30 minutes apart, which of course means the wait for the first one is the longest. Usually after a few feeds I notice my legs feel all heavy and rubbery. This time I felt it on my very first feed. So as I swam I asked them what the problem was. Naturally there was no answer.
I want to keep this in mind for the next time someone asks what I think about while swimming for hours.
Once I settled into my rhythm I started to notice just how scenic this leg downriver is. Relatively flat water and my normal 3 stroke breathing pattern let me get a pretty good view of both sides of the river. It amazes me that such a short distance north of NYC on a busy shipping channel mostly what was looking at was tree covered mountains.
I felt like I was going to crash into Storm King Mountain. It was so close. I kept telling myself that it couldn't be as close as it looked. It seemed like I could just reach down and touch it because I was swimming right over the roots of the mountain.
Bill, my kayaker, told me we were picking up current and had passed the 5 mile mark. I think that was on my fourth feed, two hours in.
We passed a tanker going upstream. This reminded me just how big everything was. It didn't seem close, just big. The wake didn't bother me at all just lifted me up and down. Bill nearly disappeared behind a wave a few times and then everything was smooth again. A few minutes later we got caught in an eddy that it left behind. For a little while I swam in place. I could actually feel the water pushing me around.
This is the time in a swim when I feel the best. The water was comfortable with an occasional warm patch that felt truly luxurious.
I spotted a few other boats, this time on my left. A sailboat, a ferry. I wonder, can they see me out here? One of a handful of lunatics happily swimming down the Hudson?
After about 3 hours (or maybe 31/2) of some of the most beautiful flat water that you can expect, the river changed. A little chop combined with some rolling waves reminded me that I was tired and had been swimming for a while.
Bill flagged me down and when he gave me my feed he asked if I needed anything different. I wanted to ask for that nice flat water again. I didn't ask but I got it anyway. All those rolling waves just faded away.
Looking at the map now I would guess that when I first got a look at West Point I was around the 9 mile mark. And I was probably past the 10 mile mark before I lost sight of it entirely. I had another feed right in front of it so I got a good look.
Do things look bigger when you are swimming past them? I've seen West Point before but that was the biggest it ever looked.
I didn't know the mile markers at the time and I think I prefer it that way. I might have had three more feeds after West Point, there might have been more. I lost count.
I told myself I would swim until I finished, until they pulled me, or until that little twinge in my hip flexor finally cramped up the way it had been threatening for hours. I really was beginning to think it was going to be that last one when Bill flagged me down for a feed and told me it was probably my last one.
I looked and there was the Bear Mountain Bridge, and it wasn't all that far away. 
"Just keep doing what you're doing." he said
I can't explain how motivating that simple phrase is.
I knew that cramp I was afraid of was not going to happen. I kept telling myself to just keep my rhythm and don't pick my head up to sight. Soon enough I could see the bridge even without picking up my head.
I swam into the shadow of the bridge before I was actually under it. I flinched. After swimming under a clear sky for so long, suddenly being in shadow feels strange.
And then I was under the bridge. And then I was past it.
There was an extra little bit to swim to Launch 5. Pulling my legs up to the bottom step at the back of the boat was hard. I missed the step on my first try. But I managed to climb aboard without much help.
I tried to clear my ears and almost fell over. So I decided to stand still for a little while. Then I had my bag. A bag that contained a towel and a shirt. And a slightly melted chocolate bar.

8 Bridges Stage 6 Intro

There is a conversation going on Marathon Swimmer's Forum about DNF's. So it feels appropriate to be writing about my first DNF. It's funny, because in many way this is my best swim to date. But I'm still frustrated.

So what was good?
Nutrition: I felt solid for a full six hours. None of that aching hunger that usually starts showing up after 3 to 4 hours.

When I swam Kingdom Swim 2012 I finished in 5:27. That was my previous longest time in water. It was too long. That swim sapped all my motivation for weeks.

On Tuesday I spent 6:30 swimming in what, for me, is very rough water and I felt fine. Obviously my arms were aching, as well as my neck and my stomach a little And my legs were all rubbery. But the next day I was still fine. Tired, hungry, sore, but already looking for my next swim.

My stroke count was steady the whole time. Even at the end when I was really starting to feel it. 

I suspect this is almost all due to nutrition. More calories and better calories. Better nutrition means swimming better a few hours in and it means feeling better afterwards. I guess this is not news.

Also, it can't be said enough: The race directors, volunteers, and crew of all the support boats are fantastic. Thanks for making another little trip down the Hudson possible for me.

Under the George Washington Bridge

I drove into Manhattan on the Henry Hudson at a little before 6 am. There was only a hint of light in the sky and  I got a look at the GW bridge all lit up as I drove by. I actually thought that it looked majestic. There is something wonderful about seeing a dramatic landmark (watermark?) that you are about to swim under.
I arrived, parked, and got checked in. I had a while to wait because I was going out in wave 8 out of 10. Near the end of my second open water season I can show up to a larger event like LRL and I actually know a few people there. I had time to catch up and show off my scar from Lake Willoughby.
When it came time to line up I had to strip my warm-up clothes off quickly and head to the front of my line. Within the wave we were lined up by number.
When our start time came around we jumped off the end of the pier, got a short countdown and then we set off swimming. A few people disappeared behind me and a few others pulled ahead until I lost track of them. I got an occasional glimpse of another swimmer when sighting but was otherwise on my own.
The water had felt jarringly cold when I first jumped in but by the time my wave had spaced itself out I felt comfortable. I went on feeling comfortable the whole time I was in the water.
The last two waves went out after we did and had the fastest swimmers. Each of those waves seemed to overtake me in a pack. I was swimming along with nobody else around. Then suddenly there were other swimmers all around me and then just as suddenly they were gone off ahead. At this point I hadn't passed anybody so having whole groups just blow past me like that was something of a downer.
I tried very hard not to sight off the bridge because I knew it would be discouraging. I settled into my rhythm and swam. I was actually getting close to the bridge when I finally started overtaking some other groups.
It was exactly like the fast waves flying by but in reverse. I was all by myself then there were a bunch of other swimmers all in a pack and then I was past them. This happened two or maybe three times before I got to the bridge. I always worry a little about my fear of heights when crossing under a bridge but it didn't bother me at all. My first ever real live look at the Little Red Lighthouse itself was from the water, swimming by.
Continuing north past the bridge I started to overtake some more swimmers. I knew the finish was still about a mile away but I also knew with the current we were just flying along. I felt fantastic.
It seemed like there were two or even three waves passing each other. The last mile was the busiest. I knew to watch for the boats anchored to our right and then a dock. A sharp right turn at the dock would bring us into the finish.
Navigating it was easy, but the finish itself was a crowded mess. I suppose it shows how well the wave starts were timed because it seemed like everyone was finishing at once. There was a mat rolled out on the boat launch that was the finish. But it was weighed down with sand bags and we couldn't see them through the cloudy water. So there was a lot of staggering and stumbling and tripping over each other as we exited the water.
I stumbled out, got my timing chip removed, and got in line for the hose down. They might have been called showers. I saw several people from my starting wave around me. Which goes to show that I wasn't really alone all that time when I thought there was no one else around.
I hung around for the award ceremony, while eating the provided food. (I took second in my age group. Something I was not expecting) and then I took the shuttle back to the starting line. I walked back to the garage where I had parked my car, then kept walking around the corner to the nearest pizza place. Where I got a slice of real New York pizza.

Little Red Lighthouse

Who: NYCSwim
What: The Little Red Lighthouse Swim
When: Saturday, Sep 21 2013
Where: The Hudson River, New York, NY
Why: Because, apparently,  I haven't had enough of the Hudson yet.

Since the weather stopped the Great Hudson River swim at the beginning of the summer I had High Hopes for the Little Red Lighthouse. This event was everything I hoped it would be.

The first wave was scheduled to start at 7:15 am. But more importantly, check-in was over at 6:30. With a two hour drive, plus a little time to park and grab some breakfast on the way down, my day started at 3:30. This turned out not to be a problem.

MId Hudson To Newburgh Beacon Part 2

As I'm swimming I see a head in a blue swim cap pop up between me and the kayak. It was Grace. She had jumped in to pace me for a while. She circled around to my left hand (port) side. And just like that, still tired, and a little cold, I was having so much fun. I felt like a genuine marine mammal. It was awesome. How could I possibly be having so much fun? Apparently I picked up the pace while Grace was swimming with me.

I did not know it at the time. But apparently there was actually a race going on and I was in it. Sometime after Grace left, I saw a red kayak come up on my left. And then it fell back out of sight a few breaths later. Five or six times the red kayak appeared and then fell back before it finally pulled ahead. 

There was one more feed. The bridge was so close. But I wanted that juice anyway. Margrethe told me if I sprinted I might be able to catch Hannah again. I wasn't sure I had a sprint in me. But it was too late for witty repartee so I just swam for it.
I still kept wandering off to my left and trying to correct it.
I had been so good all race long about not picking up my head to sight. I put my trust in Margrethe, my kayaker, and she delivered big time.
But now I was starting to see the Newburgh Beacon bridge every time I took a breath on my left side.
It was definitely not moving any closer. I know I probably shouldn't look at it at all but now I could see it without even trying and it was definitely not moving any closer.
In fact despite my best efforts it looked to me that it was actually getting further away.
Margrethe kept signaling how close we were. (Hannah was just seconds ahead but I couldn't see her or her kayaker)
And then finally I could see the bridge when I took a breath on either side. Then I knew that it was not actually getting further away at all.
The sun must have been low enough in the sky. Because I swam through the shadow of the northern span of the bridge and came back out into the sun before I actually started swimming under the bridge itself. I could feel the shadow as much as see it. It felt cold.

Now the Newburgh Beacon bridge is a double bridge. There are two separate spans about 40 meters apart. Swimming under it actually takes around a full minute.

Margrethe kept signaling and waving me on. Then I saw Agent Orange on my other side. My ears were full of water so I couldn't really hear but I think there was some cheering and waving on board. I made sure that I was completely clear of the southern span before I stopped swimming and looked around. 

"How do you feel" Margrethe asked me. 

"Tired. Hungry. and a little cold"

I swam over to Agent Orange. They dropped a ladder into place. I grabbed on to the ladder and for just a moment I wondered if I would be able to climb out. But I managed ok. They wrapped me in a towel and I sat down in the sun. 

I knew the finish had been close but I didn't know quite how close until I watched the video later. 

Meanwhile I got to watch Todd finish. He was just a few (maybe 4) minutes back. He threw in a few strokes of butterfly in the last few yards. Nice

I was obviously more bothered by the cold than either Todd or Hannah. Because I was the only one curled into a ball next to the heater in the cabin of Launch 5, wearing all my warm clothes, sipping a small nalgene of hot coffee with milk. 

By the time we got to the dock I was mostly warmed up again. 

Gayle was waiting on the pier with our little guy. She greeted me with chocolate.

Mid Hudson to Newburgh Beacon Part 1

When I woke up in the morning I checked the data. The water temperature read 63 in Poughkeepsie. Just before we left the dock on Launch 5 the temperature read 64.4 This was encouraging, even though that is still pretty cold, for me. I figured if the sun stayed out the water would continue to warm up and I might actually be able to get through this swim.

I had prepared some hot feeds, something I had never worried about before. 

We motored out from the dock to just north of the Mid Hudson bridge. There was no countdown, no big ceremony. We got a two minute warning on the way out and then as soon as we were in place we got the "go go go"

We went. One two three. I know I am still not well calibrated when it comes to judging water temperature. But I am convinced that water was colder than 64 degrees. I figure the boat had just cut through where we were swimming and stirred up some colder water from deeper down. For a few minutes I couldn't even think about the cold. I was just thinking about breathing. Every time I put my face in the water I triggered some kind of gasp reflex. I had to forcibly exhale in order to stop myself from taking in a lungful of Hudson.
Thankfully this sensation did not last long. The water still felt cold but I felt ok. At my first feed I got one of my regular juice bottles because the water was measuring 67 degrees. Mostly 67 anyway. There were still some cold patches.
The debris in the river didn't seem that bad. But that might have been because Margareth was steering my around the worst of it. My first problem was a log that I swam into. I pulled back, not knowing what I had hit, and the sudden movement made my leg cramp up. I was annoyed at my leg. This was only an hour, hour and a half into the swim. Way too early for cramps. After I few tries I pulled the cramp most of the way out and I started swimming again. The cramp shook the rest of the way out within a few kicks.
I quickly lost track of distance covered, I lost count of feeds. It felt like the cold patches in the water were getting bigger. I kept pulling to my left. I kept trying to correct but I still kept pulling to the left.
Margareth checked on my leg at each feed for a while. It didn't cause me any more trouble.
At some point, long after I had lost track of time, I'm guessing between the three and four hour marks I told her. "My thumbs are cold" 
Maybe it's weird, but my thumbs will get cold long before any of my other fingers.
By my next feed, or maybe it was two feeds later, my fingers were starting to get cold and tingly.
There seemed to be three distinct temperatures in the water: there were occasional patches that actually felt warm, most of the water felt cold, and some patches felt so cold I just could not understand it.
I'm curious how much of a temperature difference there really was. It felt huge.
I had actually gotten a look at the Newburgh-Beacon bridge during one of my feeds. I felt like I would get there but I didn't know how much longer it was likely to take.
And I most definitely was not going to ask.
Part 2

8 bridges

I'm trying to write up my experience on stage 3 this monday. It is taking me a while because at first I kept falling asleep at the keyboard. I always get very congested after a long swim and I usually need to wait a whole day before I can get the kind of dead-rock sleep that I want after an event like that.
I feel like I should have a whole post or maybe a series of post where I talk about how amazing the organizers, support crew, and kayakers are at this event.
All I had to do was swim.

8 Bridges Stage 3

Who: 8bridges and some association with CIBBOWS
What: the 3rd (of seven) stages of the weeklong 8bridges swim
When: Monday June 17,  2013
Where: The Hudson River from the Mid Hudson Bridges to the Newburgh Beacon Bridge
Why: Well it's the Hudson River. It's there

The Great Hudson River Bummer

Who: NYCSwim
What: The Great Hudson River Swim
When: Saturday May 25 2013
Where: Christopher street pier New York, NY
Why: In this case the question is why not?

I took the train down  into the city friday night. I was looking forward to my first event with NYCswim. At 8pm I got a message saying that the swim was still on . But at a quarter to 11 I got the notice that the swim was being cancelled due to weather.
Saturday morning was cold and very very windy. So I can't really question the decision to cancel. But I'm disappointed. I will have to try again for a different event with NYCswim.

Alone in the middle of the Hudson River

So the race started at 11:30, check in at 10. So that means wake up, eat breakfast, get ready and go. Poughkeepie is just around an hour out so leaving the house at 9 feels pretty civilized. It is no exaggeration to say the weather was miserable. Overcast, cold, and alternating between raining a lot and only raining a little bit. When we found the starting line it looked pretty sparse. Just a handful of swimmers and volunteers mostly staying out of the drizzle under the tent. I passed the time drinking  blue gatorade and then running off to the porta-john.
I was worried about the colder water and about the current and chop. I was also worried that swimming under the bridges would trigger a sense of vertigo that I sometimes get, kind of like a fear of heights. So naturally I was signed up to swim 5k and see how I dealt with all of that.
After getting a head count of swimmers at the starting line, and with zero ceremony they started a countdown from ten and we were off. This was the biggest mass start I've been a part of so far, and we had to turn around a buoy just about a hundred meters from shore so things seemed pretty crazy for a while. I tried to relax, not get kicked in the face and wait for things to open up. There were three buoys marking the triangle turn to be made around the easternmost stanchion of the mid-hudson bridge. As we rounded these buoys most of my attention was on avoiding bad collisions with very little to spare for whether passing under the bridge would make me feel small and dizzy.  I set my sights on the walkway over the Hudson some 900M north against the current and my stroke fell apart. I was swimming directly into some waves, possibly the wake of a moderately sized boat and I was having trouble adjusting my breathing so as not to get a lungfull of riverwater. When paused in my struggle and looked around I had lost sight of every other swimmer and most of the support boats. There I was, as the title of this post suggests. For all I knew I was in dead last, after all it was a pretty small field. Surprisingly these things did not cause me to feel nervous and upset.  With about 1K of 5 behind me I finally started to feel pretty good. I pointed myself at the walkway bridges and kept going.
It turns out that I had not been left behind as much as I thought because I met up with a few other swimmer when I finally found my way to the walkway over the hudson and rounded the triangle turn. While trying to cross back under the walkway I had the distinct impression that I was swimming in place under the bridge. This would not be the last time I felt that way. Once I cleared the walkway I was heading south again and with the current. I actually had another swimmer with me for a while, until I wandered off course, or perhaps the current nudged me.
I caught a glance at the starting buoy when I was about 50 yards past it. This worried me. "How am I ever going to spot that on my next time around?",  I wondered to myself.
While rounding the three buoys at the mid-hudson bridge I overtook a group of swimmers. I was already several strokes ahead of them before I realized they were wearing yellow caps instead of green. The 2.5k'ers. I figured if they started 45mins behind us and these are the first yellow caps I'm seeing then I am way off my pace for this swim. Oh well, I was still feeling good, and if it took me longer to finish at least I would know I could handle the extra time in the water. On my way back to the walkway I overtook maybe two more yellow caps. And while I was rounding the buoys I spotted two green caps as well. I tried to pour on some power for the last few hundred meter, but I felt like the current was throwing me around. Somehow I caught a look a the finish buoy and I was able to head straight for it. Actually the river was pushing me closer to shore so I had to adjust my course a few times. I rounded the buoy and started what I thought would be the final push into shore. The current threw me off course in about ten strokes, but I managed to get in eventually. I stepped onto shore carefully, they recorded my finish and another swim hits my personal record books.

2 bridges

So lets start with the basic info before I get into my own experience.

Who: 8bridges.org and CIBBOWS
What: The first ever 2 Bridges Swim under the walkway
When: Jun 2nd 2012
Where: The Hudson River at Poughkeepsie NY
Why: Because you think big rivers are awesome

So this was the first ever 2 bridges swim. There was no swag bag, no chip timing, and just a skeleton crew of volunteers. But I had a pretty great time

(I'm the one with the beard)