Wore a regular ol' swimsuit (no wetsuit or swim skin). Wetsuits were optional but one wouldn't be eligible for any awards (not that I'd be winning any), but I knew I'd be way too hot if I wore one. Swimskins were permissible, but I don't own one, hence the regular suit.

Wave 1, men and elite women, went off. 5 minutes later, I and the other non-elite females were set to go. We walked down the boat ramp and were counted by 2 different people to ensure they knew how many people were in the water. It was possible to walk a ways before needing to swim, then we treaded water for a deep water start. I kept myself toward the back, knowing this is a 'fish' event and I'm no fish! The countdown was spoken and the air horn went off, sending us on our way.

Since I was near the back, I didn't experience much jostling or the usual fighting for position. I was able to get into a decent groove fairly early and was happy to have some people around me but not on top of me.

First leg, first lap: good sighting, was staying with the group, was comfortable.

Second leg, first lap: horrible sighting as we were now looking into the sun. I couldn't see ANY buoys for a while and just followed the little white capped people ahead of me. Finally I was able to see the buoys and was doing at least OK with sighting. I was most of the way done with the 2nd leg when I started thinking about how far I had to swim yet and for a moment it seemed overwhelming. I took some of my own advice to heart - one of the women in my mentor group has been battling with some hills for an upcoming tri and I told her, "Don't look at the top, just keep looking at the road in front of you, take the course piece by piece. Keep moving forward and you'll get there." That became my advice to myself: don't think about the big distance, focus on buoy to buoy and you'll get there.

Third leg, first lap: OK for a while. I was still in a spread out pack of swimmers which made me happy, not being left in the dust. Went through a few cold spots in the lake which made me wonder if there were underwater springs. Eventually neared the little penninsula that sticks out and the weeds started: long, ropy, arm, shoulder, ankle-grabbing weeds. Thick gardens of them. I tried to swim more to the left to find deeper water to get away from them to no avail. They kept grabbing and pulling and making it very difficult to stroke and swim properly.

In my frustration to get out of them since they were slowing me down so much, I started kicking harder and not doing proper stroke technique with my arms. Cramp, CRAMP!! AUGH!! My left calf completely seized up, immobilizing my leg, making it impossible to swim. Tentatively I reached down with my right foot and discovered I could stand. Good, makes it easier to try to massage the knot out of my leg. Meanwhile, a nearby kayaker paddled up to me asking if I needed help and wanted to hang on. I told him I have a cramp and, actually, I'm standing, so no need to hang on. He chuckled and agreed that standing is better! As I stood there, I saw swimmer after swimmer pass me. Man, I had no idea I was ahead of so many people! (in retrospect, I think some of them may have been the lead people in wave 1 lapping me) It was so frustrating to watch them go by. After about a minute (I'm guessing, I didn't look at my watch) the knotted ball that was my calf muscle finally eased up and I was able to continue. I hoped it was just the mad kicking to get out of the weeds that set it off.

At the start of the second lap we were supposed to yell out our numbers to the people on the dock for some reason, so I did, feeling really weird about it, but oh well. I thought I heard someone repeat it back, so I rounded the buoy for lap 2. I think a weed was wrapped around my right ankle and the timing chip but I didn't bother stopping to remove it.

First leg, lap 2: Maybe 1/3 of the way I realized my right shoulder was getting a little grumpy. It had been a little grumpy the past few swims, I'm guessing from the increased yardage. I chose to ignore it the best I could, trying to focus on good technique. I managed to gain a few spots, passing a few swimmers here and there.

About halfway through the first leg and perfectly halfway between the kayakers my right calf seized up in an immobilizing cramp. I let out a cry of pain and frustration. I was now in deep water, treading water with one leg and one arm, my knotted calf being rubbed by my other arm as I could and still stay afloat. Oh, it hurt so much! And there go the swimmers I just passed by me again. Finally, after an eternity (which I will guess was maybe 2 minutes), the cramp finally let up and I was able to swim again.

My legs had hurt so badly when they cramped and I was so frustrated by losing time and placement by stopping that I decided I would try not to kick in the hopes of not setting off the cramps again. I really focused on rotation, still ignoring the worsening complaints of my shoulder. I kicked oh so lightly and carefully just for balance.

Second leg, second lap: Still kicking gingerly. Somehow gaining ground on a few swimmers (again), and I managed to get a few spots ahead. I probably started swimming faster (and probably harder, too), inspired by gaining ground (ground? water?) and the fact that I was getting closer and closer to being at the end. I was very close to the final turn buoy to start the final leg when wham! A cramp flew into my left calf again. Blankety-blank-blank-blank!!!! ARGH!!!

Again, a few cries of pain and frustration. I absolutely cannot move or straighten my leg, just like the other times. I am, again, in deep water, but this time there is a kayak not too far away. They (a man and a woman) yell over to ask if I'm OK. I told them I have a bad calf cramp but I will be OK when it goes away. I was doing the ol' one armed, one legged treading again and next thing you know, I looked over and there was the bow of the kayak. Begrudgingly, for the first time ever in any event, I held onto a kayak. I held on with my right hand and massaged the balled up muscle with my left. They kept asking me questions: "Is this your first or second lap?" "Are you sure you are OK?" "Are you sure you are able to continue?" "Will you be able to finish?" I know they were just doing their job, but let me be! Then the girl shared a little anecdote about how her toes cramp when she wears fins. Mmm, thanks. I stay patient with them, but very impatient with my cramp and impatient because the people I just passed (or re-passed, or re-re-passed) were swimming on by again.

After a minute (again, guessing, could be more or less, I didn't look) it finally lets up. I flex my leg a few times and let go of the boat, just floating/treading a little, testing it. More questions, "Are you sure you are OK, ma'am? Are you sure you are able to continue?"

"Yes, yes, YES, for crying out loud!" I'm yelling inside my head. Instead my mouth quietly and politely says, "Yes, just give me a moment". I decided I'd better get going before they start badgering me again and before I lose more time. I rounded the final turn buoy and began the...

..third leg, second lap: THE HOME STRETCH! I really tried not to kick but also was swimming with a purpose: I wanted to be done! My shoulder hurt, my calves were SO unhappy and I was a bit tired of being in the water. It was hard to see the buoys right away on this leg, too, so I swam in the general direction I was supposed to, trying even more than before to stay left toward the buoy line to stay out of the weeds. To my surprise, I passed 2-3, maybe 4 people. My left leg threatened to cramp again maybe halfway through but I told myself I am not stopping again. I couldn't kick with that leg since it was cramped (not quite full-on but close), so I was swimming one-legged at probably a ridiculous angle, pushing water, not gliding through it. I was fighting the stoopid weeds again, too.

After about 50 yards it eased up enough for me to at least be more horizontal. Eventually I got through the dang weeds and back into clear water. I saw the kayaker who tried to help me on the first lap. Swimming in to the boat ramp seemed like it took an eternity, but finally I got to shallow enough water to carefully stand. Thankfully they had a guy there to help steady people so they didn't fall on the ramp. I let him hold onto me as I made my way up the ramp and over the timing mats.

Do something to prevent the horrible cramping. That was my main limiter.

The awards ceremony was already well under way. LT and L and S were already changed and dry. I stood there with them a moment, my legs shaking, weakened or something from the cramping and now being asked to hold me up. They kept quivering. I started referring to it as my party trick - if I'd pick my heel up slightly, my leg would quiver uncontrolably and hard and without cessation. It would only stop if I'd put my heel back down.

Ate some watermelon, drank some Gatorade and water, grabbed my towel and watched the speedy people including LT get awards. She got 1st AG and I think was 4th overall. She's fast!

Got changed into dry clothes then we went to Torre for Mexican food which made it all worthwhile! A bloody Maria, chips and guac, and enchiladas verdes with Spanish rice helped soothe my disappointment from the race.

I had hoped to go under 2 hours, which I would've if I hadn't lost ~5 minutes with cramping and also if the course would've been an accurate distance. LT and the others were comparing GPS watch readouts and most were 3.45, 3.48, 3.47, etc. None recorded 3.1 or anything in the ballpark of that distance. My own watch stopped getting a signal very early on, so I have no idea what my readout said. Well, I do: 261 yards. Man, it took me forever to swim 261 yards! ;)

All in all, I was glad to have had a fun day with friends and to have finished and not finished last. Although I was hoping for better results, not drowning and finishing such a challenging (for me) event is still a good feeling.


CRAMPING CALVES, shoulder pain, but mainly the dang calf cramps. Innacurate course distance.


Well-organized, plenty of pre-race communications, nice swag, but the extra long course wasn't a plus in my book for my first big OWS event.