4.4 mile GCBS Race Report

<div>First one ever, what an epic experience!</div>
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<div class=”gmail_default”>The 4.4 mile Great Chesapeake Bay Swim (GCBS) is an annual charity race, benefiting the March of Dimes and other charities; in its current form, it’s been going on 26 years, and so popular that you can’t just register. First, you have to literally win a lottery; second, you have to submit past performance of a swim proving you have the stuff to cover the distance.  Then, you’re one of the lucky 650 swimmers good to go with the able support of 750 volunteers, 100 boats, 50 kayaks, 20 jet skis, 2 helicopters, plus a dive team.</div>
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<div class=”gmail_default”>Btw, I’m sure when you think ‘swimmer’, you think Michael Phelps:  tall, long torso, big feet.  Me, I’m shortish, short torso, long limbs (bad for buoyancy) and small feet, but I’m the human Energizer Bunny, which I figure must be good for something.</div>
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<div class=”gmail_default”>The GCBS is literally straight-forward, or so I thought: You jump in the water at Sandy Point about 500 yards north of the west-heading bridge span, swim diagonally south and hook a left in-between the bridge spans.  And then, the field miraculously disperses, and you enter your own private swimming pool: you stay between the two bridge spans, probably approx 80 yards apart, and go straight for 4 miles.  Every breath you take, you stare up the bridge pillars and see the cars driving over the bridge (in case you’re wondering traffic was moving just fine that morning).  The X-factors that can make the Bay swim difficult/unpredictable/unique are the strength of the current (Friday was a full moon and the tidal %ile was 91, which apparently means it was stronger than people thought); winds; the fact that the Bridge actually curves left for what seems like an eternity in the beginning, which in turns means you’re swimming against the current coming from the south to stay inbetween the bridge pylons; heightened wind and swirl in the shipping channels where there is no land mass to protect you; and stronger currents and winds as you approach the eastern shore. To some extent, covering 4.4 miles is the easiest part of the day, it’s everything else that makes this swim a challenge.</div>
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<div class=”gmail_default”>I train in a 25-yard-pool, not ideal, but I got plenty of long swims in, plus the occasional open water swim at National Harbor.  Unlike triathlon training where I usually (somewhat) follow structured training plans, I was flying blind here, relying on advice of fellow swimmers, making it up as I went along.  That, plus some life and work stress in the past few months led to this being the first time ever I toed the start line of a race without being entirely sure I’d make it:  I knew I had the endurance, but could I beat the x-factors?  Also, as I stood on the beach waiting for the gun to go off, I realized that I had focused my training almost exclusively on being able to cover the distance, not so much on the mental aspects of the swim.  Not a good time for that realization to hit …</div>
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<div class=”gmail_default”>I could not have asked for a more perfect race day:  no winds, few currents (or so I thought…), water temps in the low 70s.  I took off slowly, let the fast kids go ahead, built my rhythm and quickly found a groove.  At one point, I literally said ‘this is awesome!’ and merrily moved along.  That being said, 4.4 miles, aka 7,744 yards, aka 7,081 meters makes for a long day.  Somewhere near 3.5 miles in, looking straight ahead, counting pillars, the current getting stronger, the waves starting to push you around … it starts to wear on you.  And that’s when the head games began … I was getting tired and felt conflicted between wanting to be done and still enjoying the experience, full well knowing that I needed to pace myself, because right after mile 4, you take a right out from underneath the bridge pylons, and then hook left for another 800 yards or so to the finish.  My plan was to leave enough in the tank to finish strong, but I was feeling slightly seasick from all the bobbing around while realizing I was also under-fueled, having opted to only take in water at the refueling boats at miles 1 and 3 (bad decision, I know that I always burn higher in races than during training).  I kept it steady, but had no extra ‘oomph’ to close.  That was admittedly a bit of a let-down, and I finished somewhat disappointed, thinking ‘never again’ … and then I drove back home over the bridge (traffic was worse by now…), looked over the bridge span on the other side, and reminded myself just how epically awesome those 4.4 miles were, plus having spoken to a few more race veterans I can already envision how to prepare and execute better mentally, so I guess never say never …</div>
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<div class=”gmail_default”>So there you have it, my first GCBS!  But now, it’s time to lace up my running shoes and dust off my bike – they’ve both been woefully neglected these past few months, and I miss them!</div>
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<div class=”gmail_default”>Thanks for reading.</div>
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