Thursday, July 21, 2011

Swimming in the North Atlantic

Is a cold endeavor. Even with a wetsuit.

Rebecca and I tried again today to swim at shortsands. Walking down to the beach with wetsuits on to the waist in low 90's air temps was an exercise in heat acclimation.

We stepped in up to our knees for cooling while pulling up the rest of the suit. The water stung until our feet numbed. Zipped up we plowed forward into the frigid water. There is no mistaking when water crests the zipper seam and trickles down my back.

The first strokes with my hands in the water feel like swimming through needles. Water on my face takes my breath away. Twenty strokes in Rebecca is done. I remain stubborn.

I stroke forward and my face hits even colder water. I remember these thermal zones from last year. This one freezes my face and ears into an instant headache. That's new. I aim for shallower water closer to the shore and start swimming again.

I am here to swim. I make it across the beach to the Katadin Inn. One leg down. When I lift my face from the water my goggles immediately fog over. When I put my watch in the water it immediately fogs over. Oh the science experiments.

A few strokes into the return trip I am really struggling. My form is crap. I take a mouthful of salt water. What is going on? This feels like fatigue at the end of a two mile swim - but it's only been a few hundred yards. Focus. Stretch. Catch. Hello? Catch! Ok, no catch, just pull. My extremities are less responsive.

Stop to assess the situation. Whoops, no bottom there, in over my head literally and figuratively. Stay calm, focus on siting, and SWIM!

The bottom comes into view. It gets closer. So does my site. Shallower water closer to destination.

Head up, feet down, walking out of the water. I start peeling off the wetsuit. The air doesn't even feel warm to my torso.

Seventeen minutes of swimming was all I managed. The water is cold to the point of incapacitating. It was shocking how fast the cold set in and took it's toll.

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