Hi, everyone. I'm a new member. I started doing triathlons last year -- six sprints (4 at Lake T, where I twice came in next to last). I've lurked
on the board for a year before finally joining Heat and admit to being intimidated by all the winning and Iron Man accounts. I have heard that HEAT is looking
to expand its membership to beginners and slower folk, so with that in mind, I will occasionally post some race reports from my view at the back of the pack.
My goal is to complete an Olympic Tri either this year or next.
Here's my report on the Madison Mile, my first open water mile swim.
***
I did not sleep well last night, waking up every hour, feeling my usual pre-event apprehension. I guess this year because the Madison Mile is also being billed at the Masters Open Water One-Mile National Championship, there was no day of the race registration. One of the benefits of signing up in advance is, it makes it harder to change your mind at the last minute. Between the $40 fee and the $15 I had to pay for a one-day US Masters membership, that's $55 I would have blown off by not going. Still, I was uncertain. While I swam a lot over the winter I haven't been swimming so much lately (26 miles since January 1, but only 2.5 miles since the middle of April) and my easy mile in 40 minutes at Cornerstone last week was pretty slow even for going slow. My record in the pool is 34 minutes trying to swim fast. I did a 17:06 in the half-mile at Niantic last August and I handled the Lake Terramugus 400 yards in seven to eight minutes.
Of the three triathlon events, I am clearly much more comfortable with swimming where I am a middle of the packer (I am an absolute back of the packer in running and the bike -- last year I used a hybrid). Despite swimming being my better event, I had significant apprehension about how cold the water would be, how far out we would have to swim and whether or not there would be any choppiness.
In the end I went because I knew if I didn't, well that would be the beginning of the end. (I did my first 10K run on June 1, and now I need to do my first open mile swim, before taking on my first 25 mile bike.) If I don't go, I am moving away from my Olympic Triathlon Goal instead of moving toward it. Just get up, get in the car and start driving down there, I told myself. And don't turn around.
Once I reached the Madison Surf Club, and stood above the beach, I felt pretty good looking at the course -- it seemed well marked big buoys -- straight out, angle off to the left and head out more, pass another buoy go horizontal to the beach, pass a buoy, then angle slightly right, pass a buoy and head on in. I had been worried the farthest buoy would be straight out, barely in sight.
I had already decided I wasn't going to worry about time, just go easy, notch a mile open-water swim and set a time I can beat the next time out. The other good thing was I was in wave 2 of 10, so I stood to be on the beach before the last wave hit the water if all went well. No worries about crawling up onto the sand, covered in sea weed as the last finisher.
I went down and tested the water. They announced it was 63 degrees. My legs got numb just walking into it. When I dove in, it just about took my breath away, but after a few strokes, I slowed down, caught my breath, calmed down and just stroked easy for about twenty five yards, then headed back in. It was going to be cold, but it was doable.
While waiting for the start, I laid down on my towel with my head on my backpack and felt the sun in my face. It was great -- my first beach time of the year. I decided this would be my race time mantra. To get through the race I will just picture my reward, laying on the beach when it's over feeling the sun on my face.
The US Masters men 44 and under went first, and then five minutes later my group US Masters men 45 and over went. It was low tide so at the start we walked/ran out. I dove in to swim a little later than I should have -- less to swim, plus I didn't have to hit that cold water with my whole body quite so early. At 6'8", I can walk/run a little father out then most.
It was pretty spread out and I hung back to not get in the scrum, so soon I was swimming on my own. I noticed right away that what had looked calm was a little rolly (certainly compared to Cornerstone). Small waves would hit me, but I was able to handle them by just turning my head a little more behind me to breathe. It did prevent me from attempting any bilateral breathing, which I have practiced, but am less comfortable with. I fell into a breathing off the right side every stroke. So much for the breathing every other stroke I had worked on and had thought was going so well.
I got by the first buoy okay, but then I seemed to be swimming by myself and not making a whole lot of progress. Every time I looked up, I had to relocate the buoy. In my previous open water races as part of a triathlon I was always right in a pack and didn't have to worry about sighting at all.
The buoys were pretty far away and it soon became clear I wasn't swimming very straight. A couple times the race kayakers had to shout at me to head to my right or head left.
Still, it was a beautiful day in the Sound. Now that I was swimming, the water was very refreshing -- only occasionally would I swim into a real cold patch.
I stopped periodically to readjust my direction. It just seemed to take forever. By the time I was halfway, I felt like I had swum 2 miles already. At one point I kept looking around and couldn't see the buoy. A kayaker had to point it out to me and only then on lifting my goggles could I make it out. I didn't have to worry about having a race mantra to occupy me. All I was thinking was I hope I'm headed to the buoy, and hope I'm headed to the right one. The waterline view is certainly much different from the view above the beach.
Once I was headed in, I picked up the pace for the first time and started really swimming with some conviction. I got swept up in a pack of male high school swimmers who had started much, much later than I had. That was great! Drafing off them, I was flying. I could have been floating on my back and swimming faster than I had been with all the pulling water around me. There was about ten of us who came out of the water all together, and the crowd was going nuts cheering. Hopefully none of them could see that the tall thin dude was two and a half times their age with my 49-year old greying at the temples hair under my blue swim cap.
After I walked around a little bit (and was dissapointed to see that the bagels were all gone), I asked someone what time it was and he said 10:03. I had suppossedly gone off at 9:05. While I saw no clock and they had no times posted, my guess was it had taken me 50-55 minutes. Yes, that long. Damn.
I spent all that time in the pool this winter working on keeping my head down, looking at the bottom of the pool, when I really should have been doing sighting drills, swimming more with my head or at least eyes out of the water looking ahead.
I certainly have something to work on for next time.
I did lay on the beach for about five minutes with the sun on my face, and felt quite satisfied I had done the race. Good for me for not wimping out. I celebrated by buying a hot dog and Diet Coke at the snack bar, and then headed home.
***
When the results were finally posted on the internet. I came in at 51:52, 232 out of 277 in the masters, male and female group.
http://www.roadntracksports.com/MadisonSwim2008.html
The curious thing is the winning masters time was 26:06, which is really slow for a mile swim, particularly a supposed national championship (although with a few exceptions most of the swimmers were from CT and neighboring states). At the race I did see a guy there who often swims at Cornerstone the same time I do, and who swims much better than me. He was telling another guy he thought the course was long because it had taken him 40 minutes.
I compared this year's times with last year's times.
Last year's masters winner won in 21:28. This year it took the same guy 26:42.
Last year's USA winner (18 and under) was in 18:42. This year's USA (18 and under) winner was in 23:37.
My guess is the course was on the long side this year by about 20%. That makes me feel a little better about my time. But still for me, at this point, finishing is what matters most.
Peter C.
Here's my report on the Madison Mile, my first open water mile swim.
***
I did not sleep well last night, waking up every hour, feeling my usual pre-event apprehension. I guess this year because the Madison Mile is also being billed at the Masters Open Water One-Mile National Championship, there was no day of the race registration. One of the benefits of signing up in advance is, it makes it harder to change your mind at the last minute. Between the $40 fee and the $15 I had to pay for a one-day US Masters membership, that's $55 I would have blown off by not going. Still, I was uncertain. While I swam a lot over the winter I haven't been swimming so much lately (26 miles since January 1, but only 2.5 miles since the middle of April) and my easy mile in 40 minutes at Cornerstone last week was pretty slow even for going slow. My record in the pool is 34 minutes trying to swim fast. I did a 17:06 in the half-mile at Niantic last August and I handled the Lake Terramugus 400 yards in seven to eight minutes.
Of the three triathlon events, I am clearly much more comfortable with swimming where I am a middle of the packer (I am an absolute back of the packer in running and the bike -- last year I used a hybrid). Despite swimming being my better event, I had significant apprehension about how cold the water would be, how far out we would have to swim and whether or not there would be any choppiness.
In the end I went because I knew if I didn't, well that would be the beginning of the end. (I did my first 10K run on June 1, and now I need to do my first open mile swim, before taking on my first 25 mile bike.) If I don't go, I am moving away from my Olympic Triathlon Goal instead of moving toward it. Just get up, get in the car and start driving down there, I told myself. And don't turn around.
Once I reached the Madison Surf Club, and stood above the beach, I felt pretty good looking at the course -- it seemed well marked big buoys -- straight out, angle off to the left and head out more, pass another buoy go horizontal to the beach, pass a buoy, then angle slightly right, pass a buoy and head on in. I had been worried the farthest buoy would be straight out, barely in sight.
I had already decided I wasn't going to worry about time, just go easy, notch a mile open-water swim and set a time I can beat the next time out. The other good thing was I was in wave 2 of 10, so I stood to be on the beach before the last wave hit the water if all went well. No worries about crawling up onto the sand, covered in sea weed as the last finisher.
I went down and tested the water. They announced it was 63 degrees. My legs got numb just walking into it. When I dove in, it just about took my breath away, but after a few strokes, I slowed down, caught my breath, calmed down and just stroked easy for about twenty five yards, then headed back in. It was going to be cold, but it was doable.
While waiting for the start, I laid down on my towel with my head on my backpack and felt the sun in my face. It was great -- my first beach time of the year. I decided this would be my race time mantra. To get through the race I will just picture my reward, laying on the beach when it's over feeling the sun on my face.
The US Masters men 44 and under went first, and then five minutes later my group US Masters men 45 and over went. It was low tide so at the start we walked/ran out. I dove in to swim a little later than I should have -- less to swim, plus I didn't have to hit that cold water with my whole body quite so early. At 6'8", I can walk/run a little father out then most.
It was pretty spread out and I hung back to not get in the scrum, so soon I was swimming on my own. I noticed right away that what had looked calm was a little rolly (certainly compared to Cornerstone). Small waves would hit me, but I was able to handle them by just turning my head a little more behind me to breathe. It did prevent me from attempting any bilateral breathing, which I have practiced, but am less comfortable with. I fell into a breathing off the right side every stroke. So much for the breathing every other stroke I had worked on and had thought was going so well.
I got by the first buoy okay, but then I seemed to be swimming by myself and not making a whole lot of progress. Every time I looked up, I had to relocate the buoy. In my previous open water races as part of a triathlon I was always right in a pack and didn't have to worry about sighting at all.
The buoys were pretty far away and it soon became clear I wasn't swimming very straight. A couple times the race kayakers had to shout at me to head to my right or head left.
Still, it was a beautiful day in the Sound. Now that I was swimming, the water was very refreshing -- only occasionally would I swim into a real cold patch.
I stopped periodically to readjust my direction. It just seemed to take forever. By the time I was halfway, I felt like I had swum 2 miles already. At one point I kept looking around and couldn't see the buoy. A kayaker had to point it out to me and only then on lifting my goggles could I make it out. I didn't have to worry about having a race mantra to occupy me. All I was thinking was I hope I'm headed to the buoy, and hope I'm headed to the right one. The waterline view is certainly much different from the view above the beach.
Once I was headed in, I picked up the pace for the first time and started really swimming with some conviction. I got swept up in a pack of male high school swimmers who had started much, much later than I had. That was great! Drafing off them, I was flying. I could have been floating on my back and swimming faster than I had been with all the pulling water around me. There was about ten of us who came out of the water all together, and the crowd was going nuts cheering. Hopefully none of them could see that the tall thin dude was two and a half times their age with my 49-year old greying at the temples hair under my blue swim cap.
After I walked around a little bit (and was dissapointed to see that the bagels were all gone), I asked someone what time it was and he said 10:03. I had suppossedly gone off at 9:05. While I saw no clock and they had no times posted, my guess was it had taken me 50-55 minutes. Yes, that long. Damn.
I spent all that time in the pool this winter working on keeping my head down, looking at the bottom of the pool, when I really should have been doing sighting drills, swimming more with my head or at least eyes out of the water looking ahead.
I certainly have something to work on for next time.
I did lay on the beach for about five minutes with the sun on my face, and felt quite satisfied I had done the race. Good for me for not wimping out. I celebrated by buying a hot dog and Diet Coke at the snack bar, and then headed home.
***
When the results were finally posted on the internet. I came in at 51:52, 232 out of 277 in the masters, male and female group.
http://www.roadntracksports.com/MadisonSwim2008.html
The curious thing is the winning masters time was 26:06, which is really slow for a mile swim, particularly a supposed national championship (although with a few exceptions most of the swimmers were from CT and neighboring states). At the race I did see a guy there who often swims at Cornerstone the same time I do, and who swims much better than me. He was telling another guy he thought the course was long because it had taken him 40 minutes.
I compared this year's times with last year's times.
Last year's masters winner won in 21:28. This year it took the same guy 26:42.
Last year's USA winner (18 and under) was in 18:42. This year's USA (18 and under) winner was in 23:37.
My guess is the course was on the long side this year by about 20%. That makes me feel a little better about my time. But still for me, at this point, finishing is what matters most.
Peter C.
