Dam 5k open water swim 2010.
Several years ago I heard about the Dam 5k. And once I got over finding it absurd that someone would want to swim 5k, I decided I wanted to swim 5k. But every year for.. basically since I've been running, I end up doing an early-year marathon, so the end of the previous year is all running all the time. Since that's not my plan for this/next year, I decided this was the year to finally do it!
My training wasn't exactly perf.. er.. existent. My main goal for quite some time was Palo Duro, so my training was a lot of running, some trail running, zero cycling and a little swimming thrown in for cross training. Then after PD, a week basically off. And then two weeks of a whole lot of swimming to try to cram for this event! Combine that with the Texas Iron schedule having core/strength work for the last two Thursday workouts, and I came to this swim event an interesting combination of completely undertrained and sore.
Turns out, you don't get a lot of takers when you try to find someone to do a 3.1 mile open water swim with you in November, but I hit up the one person I was pretty sure would not only do it, but love it, and sure enough, Elizabeth was willing and excited, especially because it just happened to fall on her birthday! Matt was equally excited to join me, not to swim, but as my personal escort kayak. They allowed and encouraged you to have a personal kayak escort, and Matt seemed excited about doing that for me. I didn't really feel like I NEEDED one, but it seemed like it would be fun for us to do it together.
As we drove out to Mansfield Dam Saturday morning, the temperature gauge in the car bounced all around, down to 33 at one point, finally settling on 38 when we arrived at the park. I finally get some use out of my swim parka! (And my Christmas lobster socks. And warm hat. And pants. And slippers. And gloves.) It was strange to stand around in 30-degree weather and know you were going to have to strip down to a bathing suit and swim. In a lake.
When we got there, we were immediately told that the start of the event was being delayed. We weren't really surprised to hear this, because as we drove down to the park, we couldn't actually even see the lake. It was completely covered with a thick layer of fog. I thought at first that the fog was sitting above the lake and we'd be okay, but once we got there the fog was sitting right on the surface of the lake, and visibility was zero. It's already hard to see anything when you're open water swimming, and this would be impossible. It was later revealed that the start delay was ALSO due to the fact that the boat they were going to use to place the buoys was out of gas. That's.. kinda poor planning on their part. But fortunately everyone was perfectly willing to wait because nobody wanted to swim in that fog. I ate a gu, since my nutrition plan (such as it was) didn't include me waiting what ended up being nearly an hour to start.
Eventually the fog did burn off and the buoys were out and we had our pre-race meeting. They never put a course map up on the website, so nobody knew WHAT the course would actually be. Elizabeth and I figured it would be the standard out and back + through the cove that most Mansfield swims seem to use, but he explained the course would start at the boat dock, go across the lake parallel to the dam, then out to some house way down the shore, then straight back to the start, kind of a big triangle. Looking out at the house where we'd turn around, it didn't look that far away, and I was waiting for him to tell us how many loops of that course we did. After waiting a while, I realized it was just one loop. One loop is SO much easier mentally. But it really didn't look like it could possibly be 3 miles to swim out there and back.
They said, "Okay, we'll give everyone some time now to warm up and get ready. We start in seven minutes." Seven minutes?! I'm wearing every piece of clothing I own and haven't even gotten out my goggles yet! So I dashed over to my stuff, stripped down to my bathing suit, put on swim cap, grabbed goggles and headed down to the water. Matt was pushing off in his kayak to wait for me out from the start a bit. We hemmed and hawed a bit, not really wanting to get in the water, which was 70 degrees and so much warmer than the air temperature, but really didn't feel very warm after the initial toe-in.
(We could have worn wetsuits, but wetsuit people were put in a separate, non-award-eligible category. Not that I planned to get an award, especially with Elizabeth in my age group, but to do the race following ASA rules, you don't wear a wetsuit. Or a watch, as it turns out. Illegal. Not many people wore wetsuits, but then again, not many people were THERE. Maybe 50 swimmers max? Probably less.)
We were slowly, painfully wading in, admiring the number of goosebumps visible on ourselves and our neighbors, when we heard a whistle. That meant 5 minutes until the start. I realized I had taken out a gu to eat right before the start, but had left it on shore, uneaten. Nothing to be done about it now. We picked up the pace, as we still had to swim out to the start line. Got there, treaded water for a few minutes, which helped warm us up, and then the airhorn went off and we were off!
I started swimming, and felt pretty good. I really had no goals. I had originally thought maybe I'd try to stay with Elizabeth. I knew she was faster than me, but didn't really have any idea HOW much faster, so I thought if I could hang with her, draft off her as long as possible, I'd have a much better finish time. I was nervous, though, that even trying to hang with her would kill me, since I'm not a good fast-starter. So I finally decided just to swim my own swim. I wasn't racing. I hadn't been training much, so my expectations were low. And then we come to find out during the pre-race speech that in addition to no watches? No drafting. No drafting! I'm not sure how they planned to enforce that, but it helped cement my decision to just do my own swim.
So I settled in a nice sustainable pace and headed across the lake. Matt had wisely worn a fluorescent green jacket that was incredibly easy to find, so I found him and his kayak almost immediately. Even though we were swimming directly into the rising sun, I could see the building behind the first turn buoy, and I just headed for it. With so few people, and most of them, as it turns out, being much faster than me, I didn't have a single person around me, getting in my way, from the very beginning. In fact, pretty quickly most people pulled away, and I was by myself, following the people I could see ahead. I turned around the first buoy and started on the long straightaway.
It looked really close from the shore. But in reality, based on the fact that it was one loop that was a triangle with a really short side (which I'd just done) and two really long sides.. that straightaway was probably almost 1.5 miles long. That's a long way to swim in a straight line. And the house I was aiming for really wasn't getting any closer. But the water actually felt fantastic now that I was warmed up, I had my trusty fluorescent kayaker at my side, and I love swimming, so things were good. I just swam. For a really long time. Possibly 3 hours. I couldn't be sure, but that's what it felt like.
Eventually the house did get closer, and I could actually see one of the buoys that marked the turnaround. As I neared it, a guy swam RIGHT next to me (couldn't have been closer without being on top of me) and completely cut directly in front of me. So much so he cut my inner forearm with his toenail. Did I mention we were in a GIANT LAKE and there were less than 50 of us? Dude, you would have to TRY REALLY HARD to do anything but avoid me, but you sure went above and beyond. Then he was right in front of me, and kept stopping to adjust his goggles, and so I was having a hell of a time making sure I didn't look like I was drafting off this guy. Matt pointed out I was heading too far to the right as I came into the buoy, and helpfully recommended I NOT follow the guy who cut me off, who was weaving about doing who-knows-what way off to the right.
The kayaks weren't supposed to go around the buoys, to reduce congestion, so Matt peeled off to meet me on the other side, and I kept swimming and swimming and swimming and FINALLY go to the buoy and went around it. At that point.. I had no idea what to do. They'd given us only the vaguest notion of how the course was buoyed, and as it turns out, the entire 3.1 mile course consisted of 4 buoys, as far as I could tell, one of which was the first buoy we'd gone around at the beginning, two of which were here at this turnaround, and the last was at the finish line, and wasn't put up until well after the race was in progress. Fortunately there were one or two other folks still visible in front of me, and I decided to gamble and guess they were going the right way, so I followed them up to the next buoy and around. Obviously they weren't quite sure what to do at that point, either, as they were treading water and talking and pointing.
I rounded that buoy and turned to head back to the dam. This was by far the strangest part. I was now to swim a diagonal line one shore to the other, all the way back to the other end of the lake. Roughly 1.5 miles through the very middle of the lake. This is where I was VERY glad to have Matt there. I hadn't figured I would need an escort, but I hadn't known the course would have me swimming in the middle of the lake. Where the drunken motorboats go. Fortunately it was November and early in the morning and in the 30s, so the drunken motorboats were few and far between, but I appreciated having Matt there to wave off any boats if they tried to smush me. One little swimmer isn't very visible in the middle of a giant lake. And at this point, I couldn't see a single other swimmer. Just me and Matt and a lot of water.
And once again, SO glad Matt was there. I was just sort of headed.. toward the dam, which was big enough for me to see off in the distance. Otherwise I had no idea where I was, no idea how far I had to go, no idea where exactly to go, and no real way to get my bearings. This was a part of the lake I was completely unfamiliar with, and I was far enough from the shore that I couldn't really see it to guess where I might be. Matt got my attention at one point and asked if they'd said we were just supposed to head back to the start, and I was pretty sure we were. He said it looked like everyone was headed back to the LEFT side of the dam, which was the wrong shore. We thought that was wrong. So I kept aiming for the right. Then Matt got nervous and decided to go and find out for sure, before I ended up going completely the wrong way. So he speedily paddled his little kayak away to find someone to ask.
Now I'm in the middle of the lake by myself. Eek! And I was getting tired. And I couldn't see any other swimmers or kayaks. And sometimes the lake water tasted really gross. And my back was starting to ache a bit like it did the last open water swim I'd done at Mansfield. And why in the world wasn't I getting any closer to the dam?
But I could sort of see Matt off in the distance, and I was pretty sure he'd eventually come back to me, so I just kept aiming for the right side of the dam, hoping that was correct, and soon enough Matt sped back and verified we were doing the right thing.
I'm sure Matt must have been tremendously bored. One can kayak much faster than a person can swim, and I'm not a super speedy swimmer anyway. And I never stopped to chat or ask for anything. The few times we did talk, it was because I went to breathe or sight and saw Matt's mouth moving, so I'd switch to breast stroke and then ask him to repeat himself 8 times, because first I had to move my swim cap away from my ear to release all the water inside my ear that prevented me from hearing anything at all. In fact, Matt apologized after the swim for yelling at me when he had to get my attention, and I told him it was no problem, because I didn't hear him a single time he yelled my name! I only stopped because I saw his mouth moving. I'm deaf when I swim. Fortunately he only had to get my attention for course-corrections three or four times.
One thing I managed to NOT do was ask Matt questions to which I really didn't want the answers. When I'd turned around at the far end of the course and started swimming back, I'd glanced over one time when I sighted, just to see if there were people behind me. I saw nobody. I was pretty sure there was nobody behind me, and I was the last swimmer. I had a whole lot of time to ponder this as I swam back. I decided that it was okay if I was last. I was undertrained. I wasn't pushing myself hard. And frankly, I assume the people that voluntarily swim a 5k must be some of the better swimmers, and especially the ones that come out in November when it's in the 30s. So it was okay if I was the last of a hardy group. I thought about actually asking Matt if I was last, but (a) doing breast stroke seemed to tweak my already-grumpy back, so I was avoiding it whenever possible, and (b) I knew he'd lie to me. He wouldn't tell me if I was last. He might either flat-out say no, or he might twist it around like, "Don't worry about that, you're doing a great job." Either way, asking wouldn't be productive, and it didn't matter, so.. more swimming!
I actually tried to pick up my pace as I got closer to the end, but I don't really think I went any faster. My arms were pretty tired at this point. My form was getting sloppy. If I didn't pay attention, I'd end up taking in a lot of water when I went to breathe, and this was made worse by more boat traffic near the end, and by the wind picking up some, causing more waves. Matt had water for me if I needed it, but I took in enough lake water that I never really wanted it. I did get a little hungry on the way back in, but not enough to stop and have a gu. I was still enjoying myself out there, but I was pretty ready to be done. I considered asking Matt how far I had left, but it would be pretty meaningless. Time and distance were meaningless when you were looking at the world from the surface of the water. During one course-correction, Matt asked if I could see the orange buoy up ahead, and I said I couldn't. His perspective was much different, and higher, than mine.
Eventually I COULD see the buoy in question, which was the finish line buoy. It was small. It got bigger. Eventually I could see the point and the entrance to the cove. I had been thinking I could see the entrance to the cove for a really long time at that point, and was always wrong, so it was nice to actually see it for real. I knew when I got to the cove, I was basically done. I could see people on the shore, and then see kayaks at the finish line. I just kept aiming for the giant orange buoy. Except it looked like the giant orange buoy was attached to a truck which was parked on the concrete boat ramp. And I was scatter-brained, but I was fairly sure they'd told us to stay to the right of the finish buoy. But how could I swim to the right of the buoy when the buoy was on my right, on land? So I just kept swimming, hoping I'd figure something out. Matt peeled off at the end, as he'd been instructed, and I still wasn't sure how to finish this thing. I then realized the buoy WAS in the water, so I headed toward it. Except people were motioning me toward this other, smaller orange buoy. So I headed toward that. And I thought I'd gotten to it, so I looked up hoping for approval, and people all yelled at me to keep going, keep going!! So I kept swimming. And then I was definitely past the giant orange buoy, but I was afraid to stop because I'd gotten yelled at last time, so I stuck my head up and kept swimming, but with my head out of the water. And this time everyone yelled at me that I was done. Yay, I was done!
I climbed out and Elizabeth had brought my towel down to the shore. I was really glad that I hadn't decided to try sticking with her, because my finish time was around 1:45, and hers was in the 1:20s. She had an amazing birthday swim, and I'm in awe of her swimming abilities. Maybe some of that will rub off on me!
Overall, I had an amazing time. I just enjoyed swimming for swimming's sake, and aside from my back giving me problems, it felt great. Matt says I come up really far out of the water to sight, and I've been told that before, but I think because I can only see out of one eye, I feel like I can't really see effectively if I just stick my head up barely and briefly. It's something I need to sort out, definitely.
I would definitely do it again, though I'm really glad that the Ironman swim is 2.4 miles and not 3.1. I'm not sure I would have wanted to get on my bike after that. I was never really sore afterward, and based on how my body felt, I wouldn't have guessed that I'd done any workout at all that day. But I was definitely fatigued and required a nap later in the day, so it wasn't just a walk in the park. :)
So, my slowest 5k ever, and it was amazing.
(Oh, and I wasn't last! Certainly near the back, but not last!)
(All event pictures here.)
My training wasn't exactly perf.. er.. existent. My main goal for quite some time was Palo Duro, so my training was a lot of running, some trail running, zero cycling and a little swimming thrown in for cross training. Then after PD, a week basically off. And then two weeks of a whole lot of swimming to try to cram for this event! Combine that with the Texas Iron schedule having core/strength work for the last two Thursday workouts, and I came to this swim event an interesting combination of completely undertrained and sore.
Turns out, you don't get a lot of takers when you try to find someone to do a 3.1 mile open water swim with you in November, but I hit up the one person I was pretty sure would not only do it, but love it, and sure enough, Elizabeth was willing and excited, especially because it just happened to fall on her birthday! Matt was equally excited to join me, not to swim, but as my personal escort kayak. They allowed and encouraged you to have a personal kayak escort, and Matt seemed excited about doing that for me. I didn't really feel like I NEEDED one, but it seemed like it would be fun for us to do it together.
As we drove out to Mansfield Dam Saturday morning, the temperature gauge in the car bounced all around, down to 33 at one point, finally settling on 38 when we arrived at the park. I finally get some use out of my swim parka! (And my Christmas lobster socks. And warm hat. And pants. And slippers. And gloves.) It was strange to stand around in 30-degree weather and know you were going to have to strip down to a bathing suit and swim. In a lake.
When we got there, we were immediately told that the start of the event was being delayed. We weren't really surprised to hear this, because as we drove down to the park, we couldn't actually even see the lake. It was completely covered with a thick layer of fog. I thought at first that the fog was sitting above the lake and we'd be okay, but once we got there the fog was sitting right on the surface of the lake, and visibility was zero. It's already hard to see anything when you're open water swimming, and this would be impossible. It was later revealed that the start delay was ALSO due to the fact that the boat they were going to use to place the buoys was out of gas. That's.. kinda poor planning on their part. But fortunately everyone was perfectly willing to wait because nobody wanted to swim in that fog. I ate a gu, since my nutrition plan (such as it was) didn't include me waiting what ended up being nearly an hour to start.
Eventually the fog did burn off and the buoys were out and we had our pre-race meeting. They never put a course map up on the website, so nobody knew WHAT the course would actually be. Elizabeth and I figured it would be the standard out and back + through the cove that most Mansfield swims seem to use, but he explained the course would start at the boat dock, go across the lake parallel to the dam, then out to some house way down the shore, then straight back to the start, kind of a big triangle. Looking out at the house where we'd turn around, it didn't look that far away, and I was waiting for him to tell us how many loops of that course we did. After waiting a while, I realized it was just one loop. One loop is SO much easier mentally. But it really didn't look like it could possibly be 3 miles to swim out there and back.
They said, "Okay, we'll give everyone some time now to warm up and get ready. We start in seven minutes." Seven minutes?! I'm wearing every piece of clothing I own and haven't even gotten out my goggles yet! So I dashed over to my stuff, stripped down to my bathing suit, put on swim cap, grabbed goggles and headed down to the water. Matt was pushing off in his kayak to wait for me out from the start a bit. We hemmed and hawed a bit, not really wanting to get in the water, which was 70 degrees and so much warmer than the air temperature, but really didn't feel very warm after the initial toe-in.
(We could have worn wetsuits, but wetsuit people were put in a separate, non-award-eligible category. Not that I planned to get an award, especially with Elizabeth in my age group, but to do the race following ASA rules, you don't wear a wetsuit. Or a watch, as it turns out. Illegal. Not many people wore wetsuits, but then again, not many people were THERE. Maybe 50 swimmers max? Probably less.)
We were slowly, painfully wading in, admiring the number of goosebumps visible on ourselves and our neighbors, when we heard a whistle. That meant 5 minutes until the start. I realized I had taken out a gu to eat right before the start, but had left it on shore, uneaten. Nothing to be done about it now. We picked up the pace, as we still had to swim out to the start line. Got there, treaded water for a few minutes, which helped warm us up, and then the airhorn went off and we were off!
I started swimming, and felt pretty good. I really had no goals. I had originally thought maybe I'd try to stay with Elizabeth. I knew she was faster than me, but didn't really have any idea HOW much faster, so I thought if I could hang with her, draft off her as long as possible, I'd have a much better finish time. I was nervous, though, that even trying to hang with her would kill me, since I'm not a good fast-starter. So I finally decided just to swim my own swim. I wasn't racing. I hadn't been training much, so my expectations were low. And then we come to find out during the pre-race speech that in addition to no watches? No drafting. No drafting! I'm not sure how they planned to enforce that, but it helped cement my decision to just do my own swim.
So I settled in a nice sustainable pace and headed across the lake. Matt had wisely worn a fluorescent green jacket that was incredibly easy to find, so I found him and his kayak almost immediately. Even though we were swimming directly into the rising sun, I could see the building behind the first turn buoy, and I just headed for it. With so few people, and most of them, as it turns out, being much faster than me, I didn't have a single person around me, getting in my way, from the very beginning. In fact, pretty quickly most people pulled away, and I was by myself, following the people I could see ahead. I turned around the first buoy and started on the long straightaway.
It looked really close from the shore. But in reality, based on the fact that it was one loop that was a triangle with a really short side (which I'd just done) and two really long sides.. that straightaway was probably almost 1.5 miles long. That's a long way to swim in a straight line. And the house I was aiming for really wasn't getting any closer. But the water actually felt fantastic now that I was warmed up, I had my trusty fluorescent kayaker at my side, and I love swimming, so things were good. I just swam. For a really long time. Possibly 3 hours. I couldn't be sure, but that's what it felt like.
Eventually the house did get closer, and I could actually see one of the buoys that marked the turnaround. As I neared it, a guy swam RIGHT next to me (couldn't have been closer without being on top of me) and completely cut directly in front of me. So much so he cut my inner forearm with his toenail. Did I mention we were in a GIANT LAKE and there were less than 50 of us? Dude, you would have to TRY REALLY HARD to do anything but avoid me, but you sure went above and beyond. Then he was right in front of me, and kept stopping to adjust his goggles, and so I was having a hell of a time making sure I didn't look like I was drafting off this guy. Matt pointed out I was heading too far to the right as I came into the buoy, and helpfully recommended I NOT follow the guy who cut me off, who was weaving about doing who-knows-what way off to the right.
The kayaks weren't supposed to go around the buoys, to reduce congestion, so Matt peeled off to meet me on the other side, and I kept swimming and swimming and swimming and FINALLY go to the buoy and went around it. At that point.. I had no idea what to do. They'd given us only the vaguest notion of how the course was buoyed, and as it turns out, the entire 3.1 mile course consisted of 4 buoys, as far as I could tell, one of which was the first buoy we'd gone around at the beginning, two of which were here at this turnaround, and the last was at the finish line, and wasn't put up until well after the race was in progress. Fortunately there were one or two other folks still visible in front of me, and I decided to gamble and guess they were going the right way, so I followed them up to the next buoy and around. Obviously they weren't quite sure what to do at that point, either, as they were treading water and talking and pointing.
I rounded that buoy and turned to head back to the dam. This was by far the strangest part. I was now to swim a diagonal line one shore to the other, all the way back to the other end of the lake. Roughly 1.5 miles through the very middle of the lake. This is where I was VERY glad to have Matt there. I hadn't figured I would need an escort, but I hadn't known the course would have me swimming in the middle of the lake. Where the drunken motorboats go. Fortunately it was November and early in the morning and in the 30s, so the drunken motorboats were few and far between, but I appreciated having Matt there to wave off any boats if they tried to smush me. One little swimmer isn't very visible in the middle of a giant lake. And at this point, I couldn't see a single other swimmer. Just me and Matt and a lot of water.
And once again, SO glad Matt was there. I was just sort of headed.. toward the dam, which was big enough for me to see off in the distance. Otherwise I had no idea where I was, no idea how far I had to go, no idea where exactly to go, and no real way to get my bearings. This was a part of the lake I was completely unfamiliar with, and I was far enough from the shore that I couldn't really see it to guess where I might be. Matt got my attention at one point and asked if they'd said we were just supposed to head back to the start, and I was pretty sure we were. He said it looked like everyone was headed back to the LEFT side of the dam, which was the wrong shore. We thought that was wrong. So I kept aiming for the right. Then Matt got nervous and decided to go and find out for sure, before I ended up going completely the wrong way. So he speedily paddled his little kayak away to find someone to ask.
Now I'm in the middle of the lake by myself. Eek! And I was getting tired. And I couldn't see any other swimmers or kayaks. And sometimes the lake water tasted really gross. And my back was starting to ache a bit like it did the last open water swim I'd done at Mansfield. And why in the world wasn't I getting any closer to the dam?
But I could sort of see Matt off in the distance, and I was pretty sure he'd eventually come back to me, so I just kept aiming for the right side of the dam, hoping that was correct, and soon enough Matt sped back and verified we were doing the right thing.
I'm sure Matt must have been tremendously bored. One can kayak much faster than a person can swim, and I'm not a super speedy swimmer anyway. And I never stopped to chat or ask for anything. The few times we did talk, it was because I went to breathe or sight and saw Matt's mouth moving, so I'd switch to breast stroke and then ask him to repeat himself 8 times, because first I had to move my swim cap away from my ear to release all the water inside my ear that prevented me from hearing anything at all. In fact, Matt apologized after the swim for yelling at me when he had to get my attention, and I told him it was no problem, because I didn't hear him a single time he yelled my name! I only stopped because I saw his mouth moving. I'm deaf when I swim. Fortunately he only had to get my attention for course-corrections three or four times.
One thing I managed to NOT do was ask Matt questions to which I really didn't want the answers. When I'd turned around at the far end of the course and started swimming back, I'd glanced over one time when I sighted, just to see if there were people behind me. I saw nobody. I was pretty sure there was nobody behind me, and I was the last swimmer. I had a whole lot of time to ponder this as I swam back. I decided that it was okay if I was last. I was undertrained. I wasn't pushing myself hard. And frankly, I assume the people that voluntarily swim a 5k must be some of the better swimmers, and especially the ones that come out in November when it's in the 30s. So it was okay if I was the last of a hardy group. I thought about actually asking Matt if I was last, but (a) doing breast stroke seemed to tweak my already-grumpy back, so I was avoiding it whenever possible, and (b) I knew he'd lie to me. He wouldn't tell me if I was last. He might either flat-out say no, or he might twist it around like, "Don't worry about that, you're doing a great job." Either way, asking wouldn't be productive, and it didn't matter, so.. more swimming!
I actually tried to pick up my pace as I got closer to the end, but I don't really think I went any faster. My arms were pretty tired at this point. My form was getting sloppy. If I didn't pay attention, I'd end up taking in a lot of water when I went to breathe, and this was made worse by more boat traffic near the end, and by the wind picking up some, causing more waves. Matt had water for me if I needed it, but I took in enough lake water that I never really wanted it. I did get a little hungry on the way back in, but not enough to stop and have a gu. I was still enjoying myself out there, but I was pretty ready to be done. I considered asking Matt how far I had left, but it would be pretty meaningless. Time and distance were meaningless when you were looking at the world from the surface of the water. During one course-correction, Matt asked if I could see the orange buoy up ahead, and I said I couldn't. His perspective was much different, and higher, than mine.
Eventually I COULD see the buoy in question, which was the finish line buoy. It was small. It got bigger. Eventually I could see the point and the entrance to the cove. I had been thinking I could see the entrance to the cove for a really long time at that point, and was always wrong, so it was nice to actually see it for real. I knew when I got to the cove, I was basically done. I could see people on the shore, and then see kayaks at the finish line. I just kept aiming for the giant orange buoy. Except it looked like the giant orange buoy was attached to a truck which was parked on the concrete boat ramp. And I was scatter-brained, but I was fairly sure they'd told us to stay to the right of the finish buoy. But how could I swim to the right of the buoy when the buoy was on my right, on land? So I just kept swimming, hoping I'd figure something out. Matt peeled off at the end, as he'd been instructed, and I still wasn't sure how to finish this thing. I then realized the buoy WAS in the water, so I headed toward it. Except people were motioning me toward this other, smaller orange buoy. So I headed toward that. And I thought I'd gotten to it, so I looked up hoping for approval, and people all yelled at me to keep going, keep going!! So I kept swimming. And then I was definitely past the giant orange buoy, but I was afraid to stop because I'd gotten yelled at last time, so I stuck my head up and kept swimming, but with my head out of the water. And this time everyone yelled at me that I was done. Yay, I was done!
I climbed out and Elizabeth had brought my towel down to the shore. I was really glad that I hadn't decided to try sticking with her, because my finish time was around 1:45, and hers was in the 1:20s. She had an amazing birthday swim, and I'm in awe of her swimming abilities. Maybe some of that will rub off on me!
Overall, I had an amazing time. I just enjoyed swimming for swimming's sake, and aside from my back giving me problems, it felt great. Matt says I come up really far out of the water to sight, and I've been told that before, but I think because I can only see out of one eye, I feel like I can't really see effectively if I just stick my head up barely and briefly. It's something I need to sort out, definitely.
I would definitely do it again, though I'm really glad that the Ironman swim is 2.4 miles and not 3.1. I'm not sure I would have wanted to get on my bike after that. I was never really sore afterward, and based on how my body felt, I wouldn't have guessed that I'd done any workout at all that day. But I was definitely fatigued and required a nap later in the day, so it wasn't just a walk in the park. :)
So, my slowest 5k ever, and it was amazing.
(Oh, and I wasn't last! Certainly near the back, but not last!)
(All event pictures here.)