Point to LaPointe Race Report: Part 2

I began to turn myself around. The kayaker in the yellow kayak pulled along side of me.

“The water is getting choppier. Blame them.” She gestured to the 32 foot pleasure boats drawing close to the race course. Even with motors off they were creating waves that were knocking me back and forth. I could taste diesel fuel in my mouth.

“I’ll stay by you for a bit.” She began to paddle. I put my head in the water and tried to start swimming again. Almost as soon as I began I could hear jungle drums of fear and discouragement beating in my head. It was too hard. I hadn’t even made it to the second buoy yet. I hadn’t even seen the second buoy yet. I want to be done. I want to quit.

I forced myself to stroke 100 more times. 100 times and I could stop again. As I breathed I could see the yellow kayak beside me. At least I was going the right direction.

I stopped again (I stopped many, many times which I’ve never, ever done in a race before. I could kick myself for that now. I wasted a lot of time). I scanned the horizon. Still no second buoy.

“Are we almost to the next buoy?” I couldn’t help myself from shouting the question to the kayaker. I looked at my watch. I’d been swimming for an hour and as far as I knew I was somewhere between 1/3  and 2/3rds of the way done with the first mile. I made it to the first buoy in 15 minutes but had spent 45 looking for buoy #2.

“I don’t know. It looks like the buoys all floated away, except that first one.” The kayaker scanned the horizon, shading her eyes with her hand. “I’d guess you have less than a mile to go to the finish.”

Hallelujah and thank the sweet baby Jesus. I was more than halfway.

From there on out, things got a little easier. I stopped looking for buoys that didn’t exist. I stopped less often. At one point the kayaker complemented  my “nice strong stroke” and I remembered that I was a decent swimmer, even if I was getting beaten by almost everyone.

Finally I began to see sand beneath me and could make out the finish line and people standing on the docks, cheering.

Done!

 

Oh, I can’t even tell you how glad I was to be finished. After I got my timing chip taken off I found my friends and begged them to unzip me. It felt like such a relief to have the wetsuit off (I have a pretty nasty chafed spot on my neck now. That suit really wasn’t lying quite right on my neck).

And, as per usual, almost as soon as I was done I started getting the post race amnesia. During the whole race I kept thinking that I’d never again subject myself to this particular breed of bullshit hard work but by the time I was dried off with a cup of cider and a donut hole in my hand I was already thinking about what I could do differently, better next time around.

It is a sickness, this racing thing.

Next up: a sprint tri next month. Guess I’d better start running.

Advertisements

6 thoughts on “Point to LaPointe Race Report: Part 2

  1. Mr. Monkey says:

    Great job! I can’t imagine swimming for two hours *without* stopping. Actually, I can’t imagine swimming for two hours, let alone in open water. As far as I’m concerned, it’s quite an accomplishment. I’m proud of you.

  2. amy says:

    Great job! Sounds like natural childbirth. During the whole $&#(ing thing, I swore I would never do it again… only to find myself 1 week later daydreaming about how many kids I need tohave to tame that $*tch called labor!

  3. Kelly says:

    I’m so proud of you! That is awesome! I’m sorry it took me so long to read this (I haven’t read a single blog period since school started). You are awesome and I’m so impressed. I wish we lived closer and could train together. I know you’d really encourage me! But I’m glad at least I can be inspired via the internet!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s