Calibrated By The Ocean

Here we are 15 days from the Breezy Point Triathlon. Our launch pad for life, for awareness about Carcinoid, our unified effort to do something positive and give this journey a huge push forward in an effort to raise money and awareness to fund a cure for Carcinoid.

January 3rd is when my training journey began. Looking at the calendar is seems numerically so long ago. Realistically, in my mind at least, it seems like it has flown by. My weakest event has been no secret: the swim. Back in January I started training at Great Bridge with Jesse. I remember showing up on Sunday afternoons to train and Jesse would ask me how far I wanted to go today. Being optimistic I would say, “No more than about 500 or 600 meters, it’s a long training cycle and I need to pace myself and build up to June.” I always wondered what he was thinking when I would say that. The look in his eyes said, “Man you need to be doing way more than that if you’re going to make this thing” but he never verbally relayed that to me. Being the consummate friend and avid swimmer he was one of my biggest cheerleaders. Starting out I could barely complete 50m without being gassed and needing to take a 30 second breather before going again. Trying not to get discourage I took all the successes and failures in stride. I owe any success I’ve had in the water to him and to my wife (who has cautiously given me some valuable technique tips).

Fast forward 5 months…….I’ve now built up to training sessions of 1500-2000 meters. I’m doing 300-400 meter splits only broken up by a 50 meter sidestroke to catch my breath. Nothing to write home about if you’ve been a swimmer all your life but for me, with only 5 months in the water, it’s a great accomplishment. That confidence left me 2 weeks ago when I attempted to complete a training session in the Chesapeake Bay with some new found local open water swimmers. Turns out my massage therapist is an avid triathlete and has competed in the Breezy Point Triathlon for the past 17 years, since its inception. She pointed me to a group that swims every Friday afternoon in the Chesapeake Bay until about mid May when the Ocean warms up just enough to brave the open water.

Mind you this was my first time in a wetsuit, in the open water. Despite those variables, and the fact that the Chesapeake Bay was still a bone chilling 60 degrees I was somewhat optimistic given my recent success in the pool. I’ve never underestimated a situation more in my entire life. The wetsuit did its job. It kept the cold water off the major parts of my body. I would find out after the fact that my lung capacity for heavy breathing was restricted by both, the wetsuit and the water temperature. We must have swam 800 meters in the Bay that day but it felt like 8000. The chop in the Bay made it hard to sight and swim in a straight line. My swimming partners did there best to stay with me. I didn’t do such a great job of reciprocating the favor. Breathing was very difficult. I’m not so sure that it was the salt water content, my restricted air flow, my inexperience, or a combination of the three but all variables combined gave me a suffocating feeling every time I tried to breath out underwater. The cold water locked my legs up. My mind was telling them to kick but they were not cooperating. All of these factors left me with a feeling of going nowhere fast. It was a rude awakening, one that I’m glad I experienced now rather than on June 1st. I have been calibrated by the Ocean.

Despite all of that I am still optimistic about completing the Triathlon in a respectable manor. I’m optimistic, not solely on my athletic ability, but on something much larger than that. We’re all in this together and will drive each other to success. We’ve all entered this event for a cause much bigger than our final time on that day. I can feel it. We’re all focused on the Tri. Focused on life. Focused on finding a cure. June 1st will only scratch the surface for what we have all set out to accomplish. I know it.