The trip out wasn't that bad. The course itself and the race are wonderful. The main "buoy markers" are jukungs, which are traditional small wooden Indonesian fishing boats with thwarts, from which you can request water. (Past years they had isotonic energy drinks as well; not sure about this year, but I think so). I did get a minor jellyfish sting on the neck (that nevertheless lasted a few days, NO REALLY IT'S NOT A HICKY!). There was a gorgeous bulbous umbrella jellyfish I saw off to my right, but only one; and to my great delight a flying fish zooming over the water on my left! They are amazing creatures!

I picked up a bottle of water at the 1.3km mark and guzzled half of it. Lifeguards were outstanding. There were extremely few times when I didn't have a surf paddler next to me. Passed that boat without any incident, and ... not sure how to put it ... I just started to struggle a bit. Very hard to sight the orange-flag buoy of the turnaround. Harder to swim. Hands started to go numb. I figured I was just tired, out of it, out of shape, and maybe some kind of pinching in my neck or shoulders.

Then I hit the turnaround.

And the sea was in my face. And at my sides. And washing over me from behind. And it was COLD. I really don't have much to say about the return leg (famous last words) except that it kind of felt like clawing through wet chilly cement that was smacking me from all sides.

Never mind rhythm. Never mind flawless rotation. And seriously eff turn-push-glide or whatever the hell that is. Here, there is no glide. You slow down from just windmilling your arms through as fast as you can, you're going backwards. It was a great lesson in increasing stroke rate. Otherwise, though, I was just trying to get my shoulders as far out of the water as possible and fling my arm over the chop to get another pull in. Breathe when you can. Glub when you can't. I love the taste of Kuta Bay!

Now I really couldn't feel my hands, so I kept flexing them to make sure they were still there and weren't stiffening up or something. This just added to the wet-cement feel of the water. And that hissing wind going over! Made it colder than cold!

And this is why I shouldn't do races (particularly when failing the Pop Tart test!). It simply doesn't occur to me to ask for help or stop going. It's not that I consider and reject the option; it's that it doesn't ever enter my mind at all. So I just kept ploughing through the BRRRRR wash (SpeedZoot! Smart!)

At some point I did desperately need humor to keep going, since to be honest I was pretty cold and miserable. So I played a little mind game, a variation on the "I packed a suitcase" or "I went camping" and brought (then listing items starting with A, B, C, and so forth) ... only this one was "I entered the adult entertainment industry and experienced ...". Let's just say that A stood for an Alpaca and leave it at that, mmmmmkay?

But apparently I ran out of alphabetical alpaca equivalents, because I needed a new focus. So I did what so very often rescues me from my own misery: I prayed for people.

(Grooooaaaaan) Yep, I did. And I went through the alphabet twice. I had to cheat a bit on the second round for "X", but I'm sure Alex will be happy to know.

In the meanwhile, I'd completely given up on sighting. Everything in the distance just looked like a white blur. Heck, it looked like a white blur in front of my face. But God bless the piglet (and one piglette!) paddlers who just kept swooshing along by my side, nodding encouragement and pointing the way. Don't get me wrong; I love Australia, but I didn't exactly want to wind up there that day.

My mind just closed in on the prayers and I kept windmilling along. I never did stop for water again (it didn't occur to me). I was very, very cold and my ability to think rationally (slim as that is normally) was slipping away. But finally, almost out of nowhere, there it was: the final turn boat! Calloo, callay! I flung myself around it and beelined for the big white race banners on the beach (although I still kept getting confused. Whether by that time I was so muddled or it really was just that wavy or both, I am not sure).

By the time I was near enough to shore, I was just obsessively repeating the second set of the V, W, and Y of whom I was praying for ... not even prayers, just the three names over and over. And then ... my hands started hitting bottom (I didn't even notice at first, I was really out of it and with the numb hands), so I popped up and, dammit, I'm a TRIATHLETE, we RUN out of the water! Never mind that (and I say this every year) you would NEVER have a run race where you made them swim a lap before starting the race and to end it! So I bend knee duck hop my way out of the water and shoot up (barely waddle up) the beach in between the banners for my time ... and just kept going.

My gazillionth race, so why drop this mantra now? "Training would be a good idea ... "

Fairly enough though, just for comparison: Andrew swam 10K in just over 2hrs last year, and this year he clocked 2:42. That's with a year of training in between and admitting this year was much more difficult and he had to put in more effort.

So clearly, my time for the effort I put in would have been a 1:30 or so under fair conditions ;) ... the truth is, this year's 5K was significantly harder than last year's 10K, so I'm pretty happy with my performance overall (i.e., not drowning, and finishing).

Man, I love this race. The pool was a lot warmer than the ocean so I paddled around in it to defrost, although I got cold pretty quickly there too. Then hopped out to use the shower and rinse my gear off, and it was warm! Yay! I popped back into my longsleeved dark clothes and sat in the sun until I was good and toasty, then into shorts and a tank top to await the remainder of swimmers coming in from the long-distance swims.

Lunchboxes were provided, with choice of Western sandwich and fries or Indonesian fried chicken in chile sauce and rice. Well, duh! While I was snorking down my fried-chicken-in-spicy-sweet-sour-sauce (mmmm!) who should I meet but Muz, one of the smokin' hottest triathlete piglets on the island! Now I'd never actually met him in the flesh, but I knew exactly who he was.

Piglet. SLUUUUURP!



In the meanwhile, the rubber duckies (Zodiac-type boats) kept motoring in with fallout from the long-distance swims. It's a little disconcerting to watch a group of lifeguards come in with a ... lifeguard and be running him on a stretcher up to the med tent! Not an easy race!

The day started with the air and water temps around 75F, which is balmy anywhere else and frigid here. Then a good stiff wind picked up, which blew the "warm" surface water off and the noticeably colder water replaced it. So I'm thinking 70F-ish. And frankly, that's just way too cold for a bunch of tropicanos, even ones intimately familiar with it and rescuing those who aren't. Add in the ensuing chop and irregular wave patterns, and a bunch of people just couldn't make it back in on their own. Had I elected the 10K, I would definitely be one of them (or in Australia).

A few folks couldn't get their medals at the awards ceremony because they were still in the med tent, even though they'd finished.

It is definitely time for a picture! To the race and lifeguards' credit, they were amazing, and got everybody, official finisher or not, through the course and back in safely. This is my dear piglette lifeguard friend, who did the Bali Triathlon as well:



It was a big inspiration to have her paddling next to me during some of the (even more) difficult parts of the race.

Like the Bali Tri, the Bali Ocean Swim went high-tech and had rolling results showing up on a computer screen, so you could check your time and others' and see who'd come in.



While I was waiting particularly for Andrew Tebbutt to come in (last year's 10K winner ... again, it was definitely a toughie because I was well done and he hadn't come in yet), I decided to hobnob with other piglets. Here are the 1-2 duo from the 10K and Olympian race organizer Rodney Holt:



Speaking of adult entertainment, my friends, that is one nice '80s porn 'stache. And those two boys? Among the world's top surf-lifesavers (as in, the sport) and open-water swimmers. This ain't no rinky-dink village show!

Piglet Andy Wibowo (far right) is also an Olympian (swimming, Athens 2000), now triathlete, and gave out the medals ... here with the 10K lineup, including Andrew, who did finally make it in! Thank God!



pornstachepornstachepornstache ;) Look, I gave you fair warning about the contents of this blog at the very beginning, did I not? And hey ... it's not my 'stache! (Though I sure wouldn't mind wearing it)

And just as quickly as the weather came on, it left ... of course it's a beautiful bright shiny day NOW! (Note the angry grey mass at the right side of the horizon, though, that's what blew over) ... and ... I'm finished! I'm finished!



Gorgeous big sailing ship out there, so there was still definitely a good wind.



Another marvelous, adventuresome Bali Ocean Swim in the books. I pack up my stuff, say my goodbyes, and begin trotting out. And what should I spy with my little eyes parked behind me but ... Muz!



Crazy-ass had taken his bike out for a swim-cycle brick after the 5K! I told him that, due to a protest staged by the grumpy old men of the 5K who felt we should have had separate Whippersnappers and Old Farts divisions, he'd gotten a medal! He was so happy and said his kids would be so excited. And that made me really happy, because in order for the Old Farts to get their medals, I agreed to forfeit mine (look ... I was the only one in the Old Female Farts division, I can't believe I've finally reached the Geritol designation). So I've got bragging rights (WHOOPEE! 1 out of 1!) but no medal ... but there are some happy Old Farts running around and better yet, their happy kids playing with a clinking medal. (I saw Muz again today at a cafe and he mentioned that).

There's really only one thing I wanted for my efforts: a big, sloppy, white, sweet ice-cream cone. And so I went and got me one. :)



Piglets. SLUUUUUURP ...


Don't mention the T-word. Don't do it.

It was great I did the 5K, for the reasons stated, but the truth is I just wasn't fit enough for the conditions it was in and while I was fine later that day, I really suffered for it in the days following. So. Incredibly. Sore. ... and seasick!




As I've said in my previous comments, this is an outstanding, flawlessly-run world-class race at every level, with world-class competitors. We also got a really nice race shirt, by the way. The only room for improvement is that the website could have more comprehensive information and be updated periodically, apropos of the type of professional, excellent event this is.