Bali Ocean Swim 10K - SwimOther

WHY DO SWIM RACES HAVE RUNNING STARTS AND FINISHES?!?! Like I said last year ... how would runners feel if they had to swim a lap before a marathon and another to finish it? Truth, for this race, it makes perfect sense, and nobody said I had to run in, so waddle waddle waddle ...

Nice smooth stroke to the first "buoy" (buoys are traditional fishing boats. Super idea: easy to throw bottles and check up on swimmers). Unfortunately, I also closely encountered my first (of several) jellyfish. Fortunately, it felt like a bad sting at first but dissipated quickly (I was NOT looking forward to 9.5K+ with that ...). Suddenly I saw beautiful, domed, tentacle-trailing jellies all around me. I should have felt scared but I was entranced by the hypnotic creatures.

Maybe that explains my lack of words to describe this swim (again, I lie, but keep reading. Or just skip to more pictures). It's as if I went to some transcendent plane, a place I always want to be. Oh, it had its significant perceived downsides, as does life. But those were part of a sacred wholeness to this experience of being perfectly in place.

I will say I have never before observed, nor personally experienced, the variety of shapes, sizes, colors and sensations of being stung by jellyfish as I did during this swim. Nothing too serious, obviously, just enough to yell loudly and have my personal piglet sit up and take notice.

Oh, yes! Perhaps it was because I was dead last (except for the guy who didn't finish, don't worry, he came in fine because he, too, had a personal piglet), but I had my own personal paddling piglet the whole way! Many kudos to him. For one thing, he was awfully nice to look at, and was considerate enough to switch sides he was on so that I wasn't always having to breathe to one side to look at him. ;) For another, if it weren't for his guidance, I might have wound up on the shores of Java. For a third, his encouragement, especially during the hard-current parts in the latter half of the race, utterly kept me going.

Maybe it was him (I jest), maybe it took that duration of a race for me to really be in a (dis)comfort zone, but I was never bored. I revelled in every moment.

The stretches out (of 4 lengths out-back, 2.25km each) were against considerable current that wanted to drag me out to Java and somewhat back to the start. Sighting was difficult as I couldn't see one boat from the last and kept swerving out to sea. That's why I went so slowly! I really did an 11K race, at least! ;) On these out stretches, I focused on a powerful, stretched-out stroke and a solid 2-beat or at most 4-beat kick. 1st stretch I skipped the halfway boat. Stopped at the far-side boat (and all boats thereafter), drinking half-and-half Powerade and water to the point of quenching hunger and thirst.

The downside to massive lubing (though I prefer this to chafing) was that the intermelons gel holder would simply not stay in place. It would slide out, slide in, slide to my stomach. It's also near-impossible to tear gel packets open with tired, numb fingers and squeeze them out while trying to tread water against a current. If I'd known the race had YAY I LOVE POWERADE ISOTONIK (always thank a sponsor), I wouldn't have done the gels. But it was a good thought.

The other lubing problem, as I fatefully foretold to Joerg, is that my bathing suit sides and straps kept sliding way too close to personal parts for comfort. So I was constantly adjusting my suit during the swim and boat breaks. Also, I haven't worn this suit since last year, so it may have stretched out a bit. Sigh ... simple idiot mistakes ...

The first stretch out took a little under an hour, while the return was 45 minutes, to give you an idea of the relative current. I was also swimming much harder on the out stretches. On the return stretches, I focused on high turnover and fluttery kicking (4-beat or 6-beat) rather than powerful strokes. I just felt like stretch-smooth-power against the current and then quick-fast with the current worked best for me.

I hit the halfway mark at 1:44, which means I paced this race perfectly (3:30 finish. It may actually have been a negative-split as the current got stronger with the tide going out). And once I was a bit past 5K, let's say 6K on, I got REALLY CRANKY. Nothing seemed to be going right (including my going in a straight path). The jelly bites: itchy burning stung; goggles didn't fit right; straps hurt against head and ears; cap felt like wouldn't stay on, never mind the bathing suit; couldn't get into a rhythm; couldn't see, HUNGRY AS HELL (next time, I will eat that cheeseburger), etc.

And now, on the outbound stretch again, the tide was pulling out strongly and that buoyboat was simply not getting closer no matter how hard I swam or increased my turnover. I needed to hit a hard stride and stay there, and my brain needed reprieve. So I played the camping game:

"I went camping and I brought along ..." then name something you'd bring starting with A. Then repeat, "I went camping and I brought along [A item, B item]." Repeat 'til the end of the alphabet ... for your perusing pleasure, my list.

Adam
Beer
Coke
Dingo (why not?)
Eggs (hard-boiled)
Fifties (money)
Ginger (for tea! and nausea)
Hallucinogens
Illicit drugs (there seems to be a pattern here)
Jackknife
Kitchen knife
Llama (to carry all the drugs)
Mama! (she's a great camper)
Nicotine
O--can't remember
Peanuts
Quiver full of arrows
Rice
SHERPA SISTER :)
Towels
Underwear
Vicodin (okay, maybe I was in a WEE bit o' pain by now)
Woolens
X-bow (crossbow for the arrows, and hunting)
Yanti (duh)
Zither

It was on the last stretch back that the hallucinations really set in, too. To be fair, I've been having strong olfactory either hallucinations or oversensitivity since I got my head whacked at the triathlon. Several times, in the water, I got a most concentrated whiff of the orange air freshener I have in my auto. So, unless the boatmen were keeping that exact one on hand ... citrus is a lovely perker, though, don't you think?

I have also kept seeing fast-moving things in my peripheral vision, which intensified at this point in the swim. This is not helpful when you are already on the alert for jellies and other sea life. On the other hand, sometimes it really was a jelly, and a pretty one.

I was also getting hit with leg cramps at this point. That's what happens when you don't train. Sometimes it happens anyway, and experienced swimmers know just to ride it out, but they were consistently cramping and yes, I was not only undertrained, but pretty much non-trained. My fingers all went numb, and I kept wiggling them to make sure I could, and watched them to make sure I wasn't bear-clawing. Finally, my mouth was completely pruned and dry, to the point of being painful, and my nasal passages felt like they'd been scrubbed out with Brillo pipe cleaners.

Finally, thank God (for me in the race, and you the reader at this point) that last lovely buoyboat passed behind me and I shot as hard as I could into the finish--not an easy 500m considering the outgoing tide was directly opposed. But no one was ever happier to see a finish line (no one took as long getting there, you see). But ... as my hand touched bottom, signalling me to stand up ... DAMMIT! Now I gotta run again to that finish line! And yes, I'm a TRIATHLETE ... we RUN out of the water! And so I did, right across that finish line ... nobody else got cheered so much, either (CLAP CLAP CLAP yay that slow lady is finally in, now we can have awards and go home, CLAP CLAP CLAP).

Actually, the support was amazing, on-course and after. A lady rushed up with a bottle of water for me. People shook my hand and clapped me on the back and said, "Excellent job" and "great finish" and it was heartfelt. People were trying to talk to me but I wasn't hearing right anymore; it was like I was still underwater.

Train. Did I mention train? I think training is a good idea. Why does every single one of my race reports mention this?

Try things out in training. There's that T-word again! (earplugs, big breakfast right before, food/gum holder, etc.)

Not slow or breaststroke to sight so often. Completely slows you down and gets your rhythm off. Trust the personal piglet.

Wear a decent bathing suit. Preferably one I've tried out in the last year.

Have some chocolate milk on hand for after. Chew some sports or long-lasting hydrating gum during.

And frickin' TRAIN!!!!!

Kept sipping water--was able to speak pretty quickly, though the cotton-mouth feeling lasted for days. Ran a bunch of cool water over me at the outdoor shower. Choked down a couple bites of a nut bar before I realized I couldn't really chew. The awards ceremony started very soon thereafter! I stood around and cheered and clapped--afraid to sit or I wouldn't get back up.

Here is Rodney piglet (the organizer, and an Olympian), Vicki piglette (race founder and show-runner), and Bob "Piglet" Windle (an Olympic swimming champion!) who does all sorts of stuff including starting the race and handing out awards.



Oh my goodness, I am getting a second-place medal! (Okay, there were only two of us, but I still wasn't expecting anything). Joerg came in second in the 5K, too! I felt pretty much how I look in the picture--like a beached, bloated, pale whale.



But, after the most-delicious fried-chicken-and-rice boxed lunch we got, I feel much better and get together with other medal-getters and the Olympic champ Bob for a photo.



Apparently, there was some delicious rivalry as a member of the Perth Polar Bears had beaten one of the Perth Icebergers. Or maybe it was a Melbourne Iceberger. I don't know, but some hearty competition can only be a good thing for this race. :)

Andrew Tebbuts, who won the 10K, was kind enough to come chat with me as well. He won in ... get ready for this ... 2:02. THAT IS 1:12/100m in the OPEN OCEAN with jellyfishies and currents. I can't even wrap my head around that speed. (Apparently, I save head-wrapping for road surfaces). Andrew is, simply, a world-class swimmer and world-class gentleman. And WHAT A PIGLET, TOO!



He asked me where and what I did to train.

"Train?" I answered.

"Well, surely you do train?" he asked back.

"Actually, I don't," I replied. "I freedive and take pictures of fish."

He was quite impressed by this. To this moment, I keep thinking HOLY SMOKES 1:12/100m WHAT KIND OF A FREAK ...

They gave me the AIR HORN used to start the race. Me with an air horn. What could possibly go wrong? :D (I'm putting it on my bike, I am. Bali motorists ... beware).



The medals are actually different--color's not so strong here but last year's 3rd place really is bronze and this year's 2nd is silver, and with a nicer, place-denoting ribbon, too. Beautiful pieces!



We also got a big fluffy towel with the race logo on it! SOOOO useful!


I will not say the T-word again. I will not say the T-word again. I will not say the T-word again.


This race is SPECTACULAR and FAR EXCEEDS expecation--in safety, organization, execution, venue, food, drink, awards, and a plethora of piglets. The Bali Triathlon could take note.

It is also a fundraiser for Bali Swim4Kids, part of Rodney's Bali Sports Organization, which teaches disabled Indonesian children to swim.