This past week has been chock full of a bunch of “firsts” for me.
I had my first swim in my wetsuit which was not *sigh of relief* the…..
……same day I had my first open water swim race.
I also had my first really long ride…
….which was in conjunction with my first animal attack.
On Tuesday of last week, my friend offered to go with me to the beach so I could practice swimming in Lake Michigan in my wetsuit. I was overjoyed at her offer as I was quite nervous about swimming….
swimming in my wetsuit….
swimming in my wetsuit for two miles during a race….
swimming in the open water….
swimming in Lake Michigan….
If was related to open water swimming, I was nervous about it. Before she even had a chance to reflect upon what she had just offered, I jumped on it. She had just signed on to watch 8 children ages 9 and under at one of the Great (Drowning Risks) Lakes while I practiced wetsuit open water swimming.
We met at the beach got the children slathered in sunscreen and settled. Then, I set about the task of suiting up. If you ever want to have lots of people stare at you like you are an alien, go to a public beach on a 90 degree day and start pulling on your wetsuit. As I was struggling to get all the parts and pieces placed correctly in the suit, I noticed that I was garnering many weird looks. My friend lovingly confirmed that wasn’t just me being paranoid as she noticed that everyone was looking at me as well. She took a picture to document the absurdity. G.R.E.A.T.
As I waded in, I was pleasantly surprised. The water was not that cold. There were no dead things (or people) floating in it. It wasn’t too choppy. The suit was not too binding. As I started swimming parallel to the beach, I concentrated on staying smooth and focused on my stroke. I was amazed at the buoyancy of the suit and felt the additional effort on my arms. With each stroke, my unease was melting, revealing some strength and confidence beneath. I thought that I could not only complete my 2 mile race and my HIM swim, but complete them somewhat respectably!
Relieved, I trudged back to the beach (have you tried walking in water in a wetsuit? Now, that takes practice!), stripped off my suit, and profusely thanked my friend for her generosity. I, undoubtedly, will pay her back as I have convinced her to “tri” a sprint this year and she wants to practice some Lake Michigan open water swimming as well. Then, my new found confidence and I breathed a sigh of relief about the weekend’s race. We packed up the munchkins, making sure we had the (best behaved) right ones and headed home.
My confidence was not my confidant for long as it hit the road the night before my race, The Pleasant Prairie Open Water Challenge. This race was the cherry to my race insanity sundae called the month of June. Although I was just calling the race wetsuit practice, no amount of “talk” could camouflage the fact that it was indeed a race. A race that I, could quite possibly, end up DFL. The Open Water Challenge was a private swim team, master swim team, and open category race. Most of the participants, in my head, were serious swimmers and serious swimmers were fast--me, not so much, even in my wetsuit.
I have never started a race thinking that I could be last and I have to admit, I was having a hard time digesting the prospect. I arrived to the race early and watched all age group and master events. When it was time to suit up, I waded in the water and found a friend to help me. Talking to others helped, but I was still quite unsure of the outcome. Would confidence return? Or would I be buried under doubt once again. As the horn sounded and I trudged into the water (It was a beach start and I have that walking in the wetsuit problem), I mentally decided that whatever happens will happen, I just needed to stick with my mental game plan of settling into a rhythm and to focus on not panicking which would equal the breaststroke.
Once I stopped worrying about the outcome and started focusing on the process, everything fell into place. I was sighting well, I found some feet and drafted, I passed people; I got swam over and did not break my rhythm. I only breast stroked once on the final leg of the swim to remove a stick that was stuck to my face. Confidence returned and swam with me the entire way! It is always much nicer when you are racing with someone! As we crossed the mat together, I breathed a sign of relief as I now knew that confidence will be joining me for my swim during my HIM too as we have made a pact to always swim together!
I had my first swim in my wetsuit which was not *sigh of relief* the…..
……same day I had my first open water swim race.
I also had my first really long ride…
….which was in conjunction with my first animal attack.
On Tuesday of last week, my friend offered to go with me to the beach so I could practice swimming in Lake Michigan in my wetsuit. I was overjoyed at her offer as I was quite nervous about swimming….
swimming in my wetsuit….
swimming in my wetsuit for two miles during a race….
swimming in the open water….
swimming in Lake Michigan….
If was related to open water swimming, I was nervous about it. Before she even had a chance to reflect upon what she had just offered, I jumped on it. She had just signed on to watch 8 children ages 9 and under at one of the Great (Drowning Risks) Lakes while I practiced wetsuit open water swimming.
We met at the beach got the children slathered in sunscreen and settled. Then, I set about the task of suiting up. If you ever want to have lots of people stare at you like you are an alien, go to a public beach on a 90 degree day and start pulling on your wetsuit. As I was struggling to get all the parts and pieces placed correctly in the suit, I noticed that I was garnering many weird looks. My friend lovingly confirmed that wasn’t just me being paranoid as she noticed that everyone was looking at me as well. She took a picture to document the absurdity. G.R.E.A.T.
As I waded in, I was pleasantly surprised. The water was not that cold. There were no dead things (or people) floating in it. It wasn’t too choppy. The suit was not too binding. As I started swimming parallel to the beach, I concentrated on staying smooth and focused on my stroke. I was amazed at the buoyancy of the suit and felt the additional effort on my arms. With each stroke, my unease was melting, revealing some strength and confidence beneath. I thought that I could not only complete my 2 mile race and my HIM swim, but complete them somewhat respectably!
Relieved, I trudged back to the beach (have you tried walking in water in a wetsuit? Now, that takes practice!), stripped off my suit, and profusely thanked my friend for her generosity. I, undoubtedly, will pay her back as I have convinced her to “tri” a sprint this year and she wants to practice some Lake Michigan open water swimming as well. Then, my new found confidence and I breathed a sigh of relief about the weekend’s race. We packed up the munchkins, making sure we had the (best behaved) right ones and headed home.
My confidence was not my confidant for long as it hit the road the night before my race, The Pleasant Prairie Open Water Challenge. This race was the cherry to my race insanity sundae called the month of June. Although I was just calling the race wetsuit practice, no amount of “talk” could camouflage the fact that it was indeed a race. A race that I, could quite possibly, end up DFL. The Open Water Challenge was a private swim team, master swim team, and open category race. Most of the participants, in my head, were serious swimmers and serious swimmers were fast--me, not so much, even in my wetsuit.
I have never started a race thinking that I could be last and I have to admit, I was having a hard time digesting the prospect. I arrived to the race early and watched all age group and master events. When it was time to suit up, I waded in the water and found a friend to help me. Talking to others helped, but I was still quite unsure of the outcome. Would confidence return? Or would I be buried under doubt once again. As the horn sounded and I trudged into the water (It was a beach start and I have that walking in the wetsuit problem), I mentally decided that whatever happens will happen, I just needed to stick with my mental game plan of settling into a rhythm and to focus on not panicking which would equal the breaststroke.
Once I stopped worrying about the outcome and started focusing on the process, everything fell into place. I was sighting well, I found some feet and drafted, I passed people; I got swam over and did not break my rhythm. I only breast stroked once on the final leg of the swim to remove a stick that was stuck to my face. Confidence returned and swam with me the entire way! It is always much nicer when you are racing with someone! As we crossed the mat together, I breathed a sign of relief as I now knew that confidence will be joining me for my swim during my HIM too as we have made a pact to always swim together!
YOU: Awww, what a nice inspiring story, but what about the animal attack?
ME: Are you all only about gore and drama? I thought you read my blog to be inspired! Not to laugh at me.
YOU: Yeah. Yeah. We are inspired. Now, get to the funny stuff.
ME: *hummph*
ME: FINE.
On, Friday of this past week I rode my final really long ride before my race. I decided to ride multiple loops of a regular ride so I would not get lost. As I was riding on the frontage road northbound next to I94 (the "I" if you are from WI), I heard a squawk and then felt a thump on the back of my helmet. My first reaction was "What the blazes was that?" Then, it happened again.
SQUAWK.
THUMP.
Then, I heard the squawk and I noticed the shadow starting to swoop down on me once again.
THUMP.
I was being attacked by a bird. My heart started racing and my cadence increased to rpms that I have never achieved in any of my training videos. I started flailing my left arm above my head and began screaming "SHOO, SHOO" at the top of my lungs.
Now, as you are imaging this scene, remember where I am riding -- on the frontage road next to the interstate.
Or, if you happened to be driving southbound from WI to IL, you would not have to imagine it as you were one of the 40 -50 drivers who were probably a witness to "When Avians Attack" Wisconsin version.
Thank goodness I have never seen Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds as I am sure that I would have soiled my pants. I almost did without the help of the movie.
I did finally out sprint the bird and stopped to gather my thoughts. As I was on the phone to Mr. Spie to letting him know that I was just attacked by a bird, a gentleman in a truck stopped and asked if I was okay. I told him what happened and he said that I was probably attacked by a red winged blackbird as they have attacked him in this area as well when he rides.
For the duration of my 4 hour ride, I avoided that frontage road like the plague. After my loops were complete, I headed for home but I had pass by the red-winged gatekeeper. My plan was to go as fast as I could and if I heard squawking, I was going to go faster. As I turned off the frontage road, my heart skipped a beat as I noticed a red winged blackbird perched upon the street sign watching me.
I can't be sure, but I think that I heard a bird like chuckle as I rode away.
1 comment:
I am going to bring my net with me on Sunday. I'll teach that little jerk a thing or two about attacking defenseless riders.
You are going to KILL in Racine!
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