Hello, Cold Water

During training most of us know the temperatures will gradually go up or down- this happens each year with the changing seasons. It isn't the inevitable change which sends athletes running back indoors, instead it is the sudden 20 degrees colder than yesterday morning which send us running inside to don more layers. This hopeful progression to cold is no different in the water. Making today a little shocking to the system. 
After a short and slow 5K run this morning followed by pancakes and bacon we headed out to the beach. Yesterday I had nixed the idea of going in the water due to the high chop conditions and brutal wind. I was determined today to swim. Last weekend the water was 71 degrees and calm, the only annoyance was seaweed and something that stung a little. Patrick wore no wet-suit as we swam our 1.2 miles. I was not about to go without my wet-suit, I needed to practice in it any how, so I put on my sleeveless. While I experienced a drop in body temperature and the frustrations of being cold, it was honestly not bad and required little recovery efforts. 
Well, that was last weekend. This weekend brought in a cold front taking our air temperature form upper 70's to a high in the 60's today and plummeting the water temperature to 62 degrees. (I will gladly admit to my cold water swimming friends out there I know this is not "that" cold in comparison to what you are swimming in, but it is cold.)

Today I decided the full wet-suit was a MUST for me, even though I hope for conditions and acclimation such that on Frogman race day I will be able to wear my sleeveless. To add to the cold the winds were still at 6-14mph and the air temperature was at 53 degrees when I hit the water.  It was cold just standing on land and the waves were bashing into me as I walked out, ensuring I was sprayed with the cold water before diving in.
You may have noticed I went from us/we to I, well the water was expected to be a little warmer so a friend joined us but decided to side with safety and not go forward; Patrick, who was planning to swim with no wet-suit, called it after wadding out to set the thermometer (I don't know how he made it that deep without a wet-suit). 
I swam my first loop, honestly only expecting to do one loop, this put me just under a half a mile. My arms were tired from fighting the wet-suit, the waves, and the current. I was trying hard to stay out a little ways and swim in a straight line but the waves were pushing me back towards shore; granted this was nicer on the return trip, as there was a pushing current. After the first loop Patrick checked on me and the "official" water temperature. Thermometer read 64 degrees. And I decided to head back out for another loop and complete my mile. 
On the second loop Patrick walked the shore line to make sure I was good and to make sure the kite surfer saw me. Thankfully the kit surfer did see me and stayed back form my path. As we was packing up I was headed out to the sign so he stopped Patrick on shore to ask why a swimmer would be out in these conditions. Patrick told him about the Frogman event and my training needs.  Pretty much what I gathered from what Patrick told me- the Canadian thought I was crazy.   
After the second loop I needed 120 more yards to complete the full mile, so I swam the pilings and then headed in. The whole swim I had been thinking of warm things, I even put into practice a visualization that each breath I took was pulling the sun into my body and warming me up. Who could be cold if the sun was shining inside of them? I actually didn't feel the cold fully until getting out of the water. My body temperature had dropped some while in the water, so getting out of the wet closes and into something dry was my main focus. Patrick wrapped me in towels and rubbed my back as I collected my things to change clothes. 
After dressing and sorting items, I got into my blanket and grabbed my hot tea, which made a world of difference- thank you Patrick from buying the steel, insulated tumbles at Sam's Club. My body temperature increased steadily and now I am simply left with the soreness from being tensed up due to the cold.
Today was a rough day, with the sudden temperature change and the water conditions. But it was made better by having a clear plan of action for recovery and by reminding myself I was warm during the swim. While my body reacted to the cold my mind remained focused and I found ease in knowing I had hot tea and blanket and Patrick all there waiting. So today a mile in 64 degrees got done, now to build back the speed and increase the distance!!  

Donation Site for Tampa Bay Frogman 2017

I am are continuing to raise money for the Navy Seal Foundation.  For more information please read this: Supporting the Navy Seal Foundation- Frogman Swim 



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FINALLY Detroit Free Press Marathon Recap

We went to Detroit expecting a cold or cool run, with limited hills and a jaunt into Canada. What we got was a bit more!! 

The morning was in the 60’swhich meant this was going to be a warm run. We had traveled almost 1000 miles, to run in conditions near what the morning held back home. Granted there was no humidity, unless you asked the Michigan and Canadian contingent.  Through the day the weather would change with the scenery.

In a crowd of 26000 we were happy to be standing next to some dear friends who would be running the international half marathon. Three out of the four of us had not trained for this event, full or half. Glad one of us was ready and steady and willing to pull the rest of us for at least 13.1 miles.

The race started as many races for the middle of the pack start, with little leaps forward as each corral ahead goes out onto the course. We finally made it to the start line and with people cheering and music blaring, the announcer welcomed us, countdown from ten, and shot off the go gun. We were off and running; well, walking a few more yards till the crowd all got into their stride.

Our group took to the right hand side of the course, planning that it would be easier to watch and see each other. Early on Patrick fell back behind us, his shins tightening up. The rest of us took this as an opportunity to walk a bit, not with much of a break Patrick would catch us again. Having other supports there was amazing; we urged them to leave us behind several times, to go and enjoy their race; each time they stayed, so we stopped insisting.

The first hill on the course would be the climb up to Ambassador Bridge (the gateway to Canada). As we made our way up the on ramp, the sun began to break above the horizon. While we stood on top of the Ambassador the light woke up those still in bed and gave sparkle to the river below us. The light also made us VERY aware that the Ambassador Bridge was missing in a few spots (not on the designated running portion). Seriously, MISSING! You could see the rebar and the water. Trust me this made me a little nervous about the conditions of the tunnel we would be returning via.

The bridge slopes downhill into Canada. The leaves were changing which brought our attention to the fact that the wind was picking up. The breeze was welcomed, as the sun had begun to warm the day. Entering into Canada the Border Patrol was welcoming everyone with high fives and smiles. The speakers at the toll plaza was blasting out the voice of a man saying hi and welcome, enjoy, stay as long as you’d like, even a few comments that if politics get bad we can always come back.

Windsor was a beautiful place and we were greeted by a true Canadian golden retriever which made it even better. Plus the porta potties were well placed!!!! People were standing on their doorsteps and lining the streets with their cups of coffee to cheer on the runners; they never seemed to tire, but I was starting to feel the lack of training and we were only five or six miles in to the marathon.

I passed a triceratops before catching up with Patrick. That was not a misprint there was a dinosaur, but he was well fenced. The portion through Windsor was beautiful and clam. Over the water Detroit passed by, seeming millions of miles away.

Before we knew it we were entering the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel and returning back to the US. With the near record highs the tunnel was hot, steamy, and full of exhaust fumes- fun, right? It actually was pretty cool, minus the exhaust and the uphill. At the bottom of the tunnel is the country line with flags for Canada and the US next to each other. On the way out the Border Patrol was giving out high fives and cheering, welcoming us back to the states.

By this point we had lost Mike and Raz, although judging by 13.3 splits they were somewhere in the mix around us. We entered into Mexicantown and Corktown, each with the residence standing outside cheering. After Corktown we began to hear the sounds of the finish line, only this was not our finish line, no our finish line was still 13.1 ahead.

We passed the cheers and announcements for finisher, we watched the fast guys being to finish their marathon as we headed out on our final half.  Here as we ran down Lafayette Boulevard, the rains began to fall. The rain was cold but light at first. We ran through residential areas where once again people lined the streets to cheer, hand out beer, and offer jellybeans; oh, the wonderful jellybeans.  

An interesting part about the Detroit Free Press Marathon is that the US Half Marathon starts later in the day making it to where the full marathons are running along with a fresh group of runners. For a few seconds we were front of the pack, an interesting place to be. Trust me we stood over to the side as much as possible so the speedys could pass by with ease. This adding to the crowd made things more fun and less lonely.

The Indian Village was the last landmark township we passed through before entering onto Belle Isle.  By this time the rains were coming down harder and were pelting us as the winds picked up. Crossing MacArthur Bridge we could no longer see the Ambassador Bridge which would have been down river to the right of us. Patrick and I continued through the rains to compensate for each other’s needs- slowing down, speeding up, singing songs, looking for alligators, daring each other to make the swim to Canada.

We made the turn onto MacArthur Bridge, leaving the Isle behind. This time the Ambassador Bridge was visible, a beacon from long ago.  The final three miles would take us back to downtown along the water’s edge. While the pain was building, my back hurting, my knees hurting, and the blister on my foot letting me know it was there. But I don’t really remember those pieces as what took place, instead I remember laughing, cheering, and encouraging as we passed and were passed by other racers. Given the hours on the course, all the racers near us were tired, sore, and ready to be done. For some this was their first marathon and they talked about longing for that finish line, Patrick and I assured them the finish line would be there and would be all they hoped it would be.

The rains finally stopped, our seed picked up slightly, because in the air was the sounds of the finish line! And we were close to a warm shower!!!

Step by step we approached the finish line; hand in hand we crossed the finish line to the announcement of it being Patrick’s birthday!! Thank you Mike and Raz for making that happen!!!

After the finish line we had a quick shower- thanks to the hotel letting a late check out happen. Then the BEST part of the day- FOOD! We had the ultimate Detroit eating adventure- testing Coney Dogs at American and Layfaette. These two restaurants are right next door to each other and separated after the brothers had a falling out in 1936. I have to say I was a fan of the American the best. After Coney dogs we did what anyone who had just had two Coney dogs would do, we went to Buddy’s pizza and had a Detroit Style, oil pan pizza.

5K Before Marathon

Lake Swim

After Coneys and Pizza we made our way out of the city and back to the rural Michigan, where the quiet once again helped to heal the sore and aching muscles- sure beer helped too.

Michigan was an adventure at every turn- from swimming in a Great Lake, to our first international marathon, to watching leaves change, to seeing friends and family.