LOST swim race

Sat morning, Aug 12, 2017

A swim race that has become an annual tradition for me is the LOST (Lake Ontario Swim Team) race - http://lostswimming.com/. While I have signed up for the full 3.8km distance the last two years, this year I registered for the LOST mile swim (1.6km) race, as it fit my taper plan for my upcoming Ironman triathlon next weekend.  

Swimming in Lake Ontario is never dull.  And every time I dip my toes into this Great Lake there are always surprises.  This is part of what makes open water swimming so exciting.  A lake is like a living body, capable of a wide range of conditions, and this day was no different.  The water temperature of the lake had been up to 70F (21C) in the weeks leading up to the event, but as it turned out on race day, the temperature had taken a nose dive, all the way down to a chilly 44F (6C), which is exceptionally cold for early August. 

Lake inversions are not uncommon, and can occur when winds force mixing of colder deeper water with warmer shallower water, bringing that cold water to the surface of the lake.  

Even before I heard what the official water temperature was, I knew it wasn’t good.  A thick mist had formed over the lake, a result of the sharp contrast between the cold water and warm air temperature.   The mist was thick enough that it obscured visibility.  The lighthouse on the Navy St pier was enveloped in the fog, and it was difficult to see the bright orange and yellow coloured buoys set up in the water.  

The organizers had to make difficult decisions under the adverse conditions.  The race would still go on, but would be wetsuit mandatory, and distances altered due to the risk of hypothermia. The 3.8km race would now be 750m, and the 1.6km race would now be 500m.  I would do the 500m swim.  It was not the 1.6km taper swim I had intended to do according to my training plan but Mother Nature sometimes makes the decision for you. 

After pulling on my wetsuit, I decided that I would also pull on an extra swim cap, doubling down with both a silicon and rubber cap, as any extra insulation against the cold water would be beneficial on this very cold swim.  

Ultimately, many swimmers decided to bail on the event, but enough of us hearty LOSTies remained, determined to earn our LOST finishers medals and make this morning interesting.  Reluctantly, I stepped into the lake and was shocked with just how cold the water really was, it was brutally cold. 

The horn went and I dove in, putting my head underwater.  I immediately regretted it. I just wanted to get this swim with over ASAP, and in order to do that I had to keep moving.  I usually swim taking a breath on my fourth stroke, but the water was so cold I didn’t want to keep my head underwater for that long, so I decided to take a breath on every other stroke just to keep my head out of the cold water, even if it would cost me time, it just hurt my head too much.  

My goggles immediately began to fog up.  With the extreme temperature fluctuation between the warm air and cold water it would be impossible to prevent their fogging.  Another complication.  Between the fogged goggles and the mist over the lake, I realized that visibility, aligning the buoys and staying orientated would be just as problematic as the temperature.   

About 100m into the swim I began to regret even attempting this adjusted swim distance and thought about bailing out.  I never thought about bailing on a swim race before. I am an experienced triathlete and open water swimmer. I even teach open water swim clinics for beginner triathletes.  But I had never been in water so cold and felt so disoriented at the same time before this swim today.  

I could barely even see the orange buoy I was swimming towards and my face, hands and feet were numb.  I struggled with this decision as I treaded water.  My mind and body wanted to quit, but my heart refused to listen.  I was not a quitter.  If other swimmers were doing it, then I would do it too.  There were kayakers and boats on the water supporting us, so if I did get into trouble they would be able to help me.  I began to ponder how I would feel about failing to complete the swim, and I decided that I didn’t want to have to feel that way or explain to others why I didn’t complete the course I set out to do.  So I cleared my goggles, steeled my will, found the orange buoy and swam on.   

I had to stop every couple minutes to de-fog my goggles (no amount of saliva was going to fix this) but my resolve helped me push on through the cold. Eventually I found another swimmer to draft off of, and that helped with both my orientation and morale issues. 

The revised swim race consisted of 2 laps of a 250m triangular course.  The first lap was the toughest mentally, while the second lap was toughest physically.  I struggled with the mental grit to swim in the first lap, but was more determined to finish in the second lap.  However, by the second lap my body was beginning to suffer the effects of the cold, and I felt my arm and leg coordination began to suffer.  My swim pace also slowed down and I knew I had to get out of the water soon or risk hypothermia*.    

*Signs & symptoms of hypothermia in swimmers: http://www.redcross.ca/training-and-certification/swimming-and-water-safety-tips-and-resources/swimming--boating-and-water-safety-tips/hypothermia-and-cold-water

Thankfully, I came around the last buoy and swam with all that I would muster to reach the rocky shoreline where the volunteers were standing, helping the swimmers out of the water and across the finish line a just few meters down the shore.  I collected my finishers medal and pint glass, but was more interested in the warmth of my beach towel.  It was hard to control my shivering but eventually I did warm up again.  

Race results can be found here: http://georesults.racemine.com/LOST/events/2017/The-LOST-Race/results

Looking back, it was probably the worst swim race I ever endured.  But that’s not to slight the organizers in any way.  They did the best they could under adverse conditions which were out of their control. The LOST swim is normally a fantastic event, and I’ll be signing up next year.  Its just that Mother Nature was not kind to us that day, and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.  

At this point I would really like to thank both the race organizers and volunteers, especially those kayakers on the water who kept pointing me in the right direction when I strayed, and provided comfort and reassurance just by floating there.  It really helped get me through.  Their support is so important to swimmers in the rough. My friend Claudia is one of these kayakers. Thank you!

The one positive that I can take away from this event was that I feel strongly in the mental grit that I have continued to develop and I feel confident that I can and will persevere under any future challenging conditions.   This day reminded me of just how mentally and physically strong I have become. And its good that I have these humbling experiences to remind me of this fact. 

All considering, the water at Lac Tremblant is going to feel like a glorious bath tub compared to this swim and I am very much looking forward to that this coming weekend.