Dear Eileen

Dear Eileen,

I skipped my swim this morning. No, it wasn't any of my usual excuses: out late seeing a musical with friends, or up late trying to finish a book, or sucked back under the covers by one of Francis' hugs. It was out of fear. Fear of facing a gaping hole that has been left in the OWS community.

I didn't want to go down to the subway station at 5:20, and face the reality that you would not be there. Cowardice. Really lame, Laura. But I just don't want to believe it yet. Your company on the 5:25 AM downtown C train was something I looked forward to every day, even when I knew it was unlikely that you would be there. It's great having someone to talk to at such an ungodly hour, and helps the mind wake up. It got me ready to swim my heart out. We'd chat about simple things: when your school would be on break, what story I was working on, our families, the fact that we would both rather be on The Cape than stuck in a Manhattan subway station. Sometimes it would be more serious: chemo, pain medication, if you needed help with anything when I got home from work. All of it, the good and the bad, is now something I treasure. 

Thank you for being such a wonderful friend and swimming mentor. Despite having a swim resume of envy, you were humble and kind to everyone who came out to Brighton Beach to swim. Thank you for being one of the greatest ambassadors of our sport. Thank you for being willing to talk to me so early (I think it helped us both wake up!). Thank you for blazing trails and establishing new swims. Thank you for volunteering to crew for me when I attempt Cape Cod Bay. Thank you for being a friend to all of us who dare to plunge into chilly, salty, shark infested water.

Those who leave us are never really truly gone. We live through what we leave behind, and you, Eileen, have given more than you can possibly know. 

I will try to get on that train tomorrow. You would want that. Besides, I will need to log the pool hours if I want to swim to P-Town just like you. 

Hold Fast,

Laura

PS- This song on repeat all week. We talked about our families a lot, and I once told you about how I broke Canon Law and sang this as the prelude song at my grandmother's funeral. It makes me think of both of you: strong, inspirational, amazing women who love the ocean. 

8 Bridges Video

Click here for two videos of Stage 2 and Stage 6!

Kayaker selfie!

A smile!

"My goggles look like Roy!"

My Shadow! My Very Own Shadow!

The following is a post I originally wrote for the 8 Bridges blog.

On the train to Stage 6 early yesterday morning, I was curious as to how I would know when to stop swimming. In two attempts, I had not made the final bridge of the stage. Would my Alex just yell? Would he whack my shoulder with the paddle? Would Agent Orange blow the air horn? This was all a mystery to me!

The swim started out a little rough. It was choppy and a bit difficult to catch my breath and get into the rhythm of things. The beginning of a marathon swim can be like that. You think to yourself, “So, I really have to do this for three or four or six + more hours?” You look to find your kayaker and try to stay on course. Breaths come in short, gasping bursts. After a while, things begin to even out and you find that cadence to your stroke, play that song in your head (this and this were yesterday’s tunes), and the mission of the day comes into focus: swim.

I knew that we were flying downstream when I realized just how quickly the Tappan Zee disappeared. Last year, it seemed to linger there like a horrifying specter, teasing, and taunting me with its cold steel. Saying, “You’re really slow, Laura. Get out now.” This year, the bridge was gone before I really even had a chance to look for it.  At one point around Yonkers, we passed a green buoy at such speed, I thought for sure there must be a seal pushing my feet. This was going to be a good day.

When I looked to my left and saw Spuyten Duyvil, the reality that I would make the bridge officially set in. I allowed myself to look at the bridge just a little bit, and decided to make like smoke and oakum and gun it for the bridge. I wanted to feel that ending, and I wanted it NOW!

Nothing could have prepared me for the euphoria I felt when the shadow of the George Washington Bridge came over me. I felt like Peter Pan when he finds his shadow in the Darling’s nursery. It was “my very own shadow.” The shadow told me that I was there, I had achieved a goal almost two years in the making, and that I could truly celebrate. My brain had the dopamine rush that comes from eating frozen custard on the Ocean City, NJ boardwalk, smelling the salt air, with my loved ones close by. I want to hang on to that shadow feeling for those lonely mornings when I am walking to the pool before dawn this coming winter, because it that feeling that makes the early wake-ups and work outs worth it.

The euphoria continued as I celebrated in the water with Alex (which included eating my peanut butter M&M feed since I told him I wanted to push through the last feed and eat them at the end) and saw Agent Orange heading over to pick me up. To celebrate my success is one thing, but I could not wait to revel in the success of everyone in the open water tribe. Hugging and smiling and laughing all of those who are there with you on this journey is the watertight seal on the feeling that hits when you reach the bridge and say, “I’m done. What’s next?”

Hold Fast,

Laura

The Goal Must Change

The following is a post I wrote for the 8 Bridges blog.

On some level, I knew within the first few minutes of splashing into the washing machine like Hudson River on Monday that I was probably not going to make it to the Mid Hudson Bridge. The chop felt, in some ways, worse than last year’s Stage 6. So, in that first hour, I began to make my peace with God, the Hudson, and myself. I wanted to quit right then and there. A day on Launch 5 with Rondi and the crew sounded positively delightful. But bad conditions or not, I had business to attend to. As a way of coping with the adverse conditions and still continuing to swim, I decided that the goal (and my stroke) of the swim would have to change.

My initial goal was to make it to the Culinary Institute of America. The school is not too many miles away from the finish so it would be a long swim, and I was also still holding out hope that my sister (an alum of their baking and pastry program) would have had students there throwing baked goods at the swimmers. Sorry that that didn’t happen, everyone. I tried! As the south wind howled with sustained winds of 15 MPH and gusts of 35, it became harder and harder to anchor myself in the water, and even to breathe. On one occasion, I took a full nose and mouth full of water and came very close to tossing up my last feed. I could not get the words of the greatCanadian songsmith Gordon Lightfoot out of my head, “Does anyone know where the love of God goes when the waves turns the minutes to hours?” As we were tossed around, I figured CIA would not happen. I would have to find something delicious elsewhere…and I did!

The more realistic goal became to make it to my peanut butter M&M feed. Peanut butter M&Ms are my mid-swim treat. They taste good on land, but imagine how amazing they are in the river after spending hours battling chop and pulling and kicking with only very small and quick breaks. I nearly jumped out of the water with excitement Free Willy style when Alex shook my blue bottle and said, “Well, look what I have for you!’ I made it! My favorite feed, and the new goal set to keep myself from ditching the river too early!

Shortly after those delicious, rainbow colored delights, I simply said to Alex, “I hurt.” I decided it was time to call it quits. I do these swims for myself and for fun, and it was starting to not be so fun anymore. I did not want to put my body through anything unnecessary when I have another stage of the swim on Saturday. Why waste all of my energy now, when I will be back in the river so soon? So I abandoned the swim about 15 of the 19 miles in. It was a shockingly easy decision, and while I was disappointed I did not make the Mid-Hudson, I was happy to have made it that far in water and wind that tempestuous.

Congratulations to all who braved the river yesterday (kayakers included since they really had their work cut out for them), especially the two amazingly strong swimmers who made it to the bridge! We are lucky enough to get to swim in this river for 7 days every June, and for that, we all come out on top.

Hold Fast,

Laura

The Emotions of a Marathon Swim

The Emotions of a Marathon Swim... Told With Some Help From the Characters of Disney/Pixar's "Inside Out"

FEAR

What, this swim is how long? What if there is a south wind?* What if there is lighting? What if there is torrential rain? Do sharks swim in the Hudson River? What if I jump off the boat like a duck and humiliate myself in front of all the cool swimmers?* What if my feeds upset my belly? What if I get knocked unconscious by a sturgeon? 

DISGUST

Ugh, Desitin, I love that your 40% zinc oxide keeps my skin sunburn free, but like, I just CAN'T with your putrid odor.* It reeks, and I just hate it. ICK!!! I just took in a whole nose and mouth full of river water. Ack! Ack! Get it out! Gross! Gross!

ANGER

STOP BLOWING, SOUTH WIND! JUST STOP! I HAVE HAD IT WITH YOU MESSING WITH THE EBB TIDE! YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME!? IF YOU THROW ONE MORE WAVE IN MY FACE I AM GOING TO LOOSE IT! YOU'VE ALREADY RUINED ONE SWIM FOR ME, DON'T YOU DARE RUIN ANOTHER!*

SADNESS

Looks like I am not going to make it to the bridge again. I won't get to celebrate and stroll into work like a hero in the same way. I wish I could take those final strokes under the bridge and hear the boat blow the air horn. I trained really hard for this. It was a lot of work. Maybe I am not such a good swimmer? I really just want a hug and a blanket right now.*

JOY

I love swimming! I love the open water! I made it 15 miles with waves crashing over me the whole time, and it was really really hard, but I love the challenge! I am surrounded by an amazing group of swimmers and have people back on land who love me just for me! I get to eat a big dinner tomorrow night and snack all day! What should I eat!? I got to spend a day doing what I love with people I love. What could be better than that!?

So there you have it.

Hold Fast,

Laura

*There was

*This happens EVERY TIME I jump off a boat.

*I did not put it in on my face, and I got burned. I will next time no matter how bad it smells.

*This is edited a bit. In real life, there were some choice words here.

*I really did almost just stop swimming and take a mini nap because I was sad. Luckily, that did not last too long.

Not the Triumph, but the Struggle

The following is a post I wrote for the 8 Bridges blog.

“You’re swimming how FAR, in what TEMPERATURE, WITHOUT a WETSUIT!?”

Explaining marathon swimming to people is really fun. I will admit that I thoroughly enjoy the ego boost when some of the triathletes that swim at my home pool look at me completely gobsmacked when I answer those questions. Positive reinforcement like that certainly makes the hours logged in solitary pool confinement feel worth it! But the idea I strive to get across to those hearing about our sport for the first time is that one of the many things that makes it so special is that as a community, we value the struggle over the triumph.

A quote attributed to Pierre de Coubertin, founder of the International Olympic Committee, sums it up better than I ever could: “The important thing in life is not the triumph but the struggle, the essential thing is not to have conquered but to have fought well.” 

This quote is incredibly important to remember in a sport where a change in the wind or weather conditions can affect whether or not you reach the finish. You can swim every day, eat the healthiest food you can find, put in extra hours of dryland, and study your charts, but if lighting strikes or you face a strong headwind, you will have to face the unpleasant fact that you will not finish the event you have been training for. You may feel upset, angry, want to curl up into a ball and hide from the world. But the fact of the matter is, you jumped into that water that day, which is a major accomplishment in and of itself. And, more importantly, you likely struggled along the way. You probably spent months waking up before the sun, and had to resist the magnetic pull of your pillow and warm blanket. You probably had to say no to a lot of fun social events because you needed to get to bed. Your bath towels probably smell like chlorine. Your grocery bill (or at least waffle budget) probably skyrocketed! You have probably doubted your ability as a swimmer and athlete on more than one occasion. But you didn’t quit. You jumped off that boat, and began to swim, despite voices inside your head telling you not to. That is the true triumph!

My hope for my fellow swimmers as we swim downstream next week is that everyone achieves their goals, and we all get to swim under those bridges with beaming smiles. But if that 100% completion rate is not met, my hope is that after getting out the negative emotions of not finishing, we all feel the sense of satisfaction and accomplishment that comes from having reached for greatness. Just by reaching for it, you are already there.

Hold Fast,

Laura

What's On The Menu?

Ta da! Here is my color coded, delicious, Coach Bonnie approved feed plan for both Stage 2 and Stage 6. I am feeling pretty good about the feeds. All of them taste great, and seem to work well with my body. The liquid feeds will be Carbo Pro mixed with a Nuun tablet. Nuun is awesome! It has light electrolytes and delicious flavoring. I prefer tropical (basically a pina colada) and the cola flavor. 

I did have an...interesting... conversation when I bought my tub of Carbo Pro. I called Jack Rabbit Sports to confirm that they had some on hand. The smug gentleman on the other end said, "You know that is not a protein shake, right?" Now, in the movie version of my life, I will respond to his smugness with, "Noooo s***, Sherlock! CARB is in the name!" But real life me just explained that indeed I did know that CARBO Pro was a CARBOHYDRATE supplement, and I am an endurance athlete. Anyway, I ended up getting the tub for $7 thanks to a huge store credit from volunteering at the Battle of Brooklyn 11 miler last year. That night got even better when a hungry Francis and I split some delicious fries at Five Guys next to Jack Rabbit. We are not the most impulsive couple, especially as far as dining out is concerned, so it was quite a treat to have an impromptu yummy snack. 

Hold Fast,

Laura

STAGE 2 FEED PLAN

What’s In The Bag?

Green Bottle- Carbo Pro Tropical

Orange Bottle- Carbo Pro Cola

White Bottle- Plain water

Blue Bottle- Peanut Butter M&M’s

Applesauce

Chia Vitality

Schedule

Feed 1 (0:30)- Carbo Pro Tropical

Feed 2 (1:00)- Chia Vitality and Water

Feed 3 (1:30)- Carbo Pro Cola

Feed 4 (2:00)- Applesauce and Water

Feed 5 (2:30)- Carbo Pro Tropical

Feed 6 (3:00)- Applesauce and Water

Feed 7 (3:30)- Carbo Pro Cola

Feed 8 (4:00)- Applesauce

Feed 9 (4:30)- Carbo Pro Tropical

Feed 10 (5:00)-Peanut Butter M&M’s

Feed 11 (5:30)- Carbo Pro Cola

Feed 12 (6:00)-Carbo Pro Tropical

Feed 13 (6:30)-Carbo Pro Cola

Feed 14 (7:00)-Carbo Pro Tropical

Feed 15 (7:30)-Carbo Pro Cola

Feed 16 (8:00)-Carbo Pro Tropical

STAGE 6 FEED PLAN

What’s In The Bag?

Green Bottle- Carbo Pro Tropical

Orange Bottle- Carbo Pro Cola

White Bottle- Plain water

Blue Bottle- Peanut Butter M&M’s

Applesauce

Chia Vitality

Schedule

Feed 1 (0:30)- Carbo Pro Tropical

Feed 2 (1:00)- Chia Vitality and Water

Feed 3 (1:30)- Carbo Pro Cola

Feed 4 (2:00)- Applesauce and Water

Feed 5 (2:30)- Carbo Pro Tropical

Feed 6 (3:00)- Applesauce and Water

Feed 7 (3:30)- Peanut Butter M&M’s

Feed 8 (4:00)- Carbo Pro Cola

Feed 9 (4:30)- Carbo Pro Tropical

Feed 10 (5:00)- Carbo Pro Cola

Feed 11 (5:30)-  Carbo Pro Tropical

Feed 12 (6:00)- Applesauce

Feed 13 (6:30)- Carbo Pro Cola

Tell Me About Stage 2

On Monday June 8th, I will be swimming Stage 2 of 8 Bridges Hudson River Swim. This is likely going to be my toughest swim yet due to its intimidating distance (19.8 miles) and not quite as strong tidal assist. It is still assisted by the tide, but it is not as strong as some of the other stages. Another challenge: five days later, I will be jumping in the Hudson again for the 15 mile Stage 6. Faithful blog readers will remember that I swam Stage 6 last year, but was pulled just shy of the George Washington Bridge. It will have to be a pretty quick recovery!

I chose Stage 2 for the challenging distance and gorgeous rural scenery, but also because I will get to swim past the beautiful Culinary Institute of America. My sister studied there from 2010 to 2013, and graduated with her degree in baking and pastry studies. I have so many fond memories of visiting her there and, of course, devouring many delicious meals! But I also have a very fond swimming memory from there. Casey and her friends from the Baking and Pastry Honor Society volunteered at the 2013 2 Bridges Swim, where I swam the hilariously short 2.5K loop. That swim fell only a few short weeks after my paternal grandmother passed away suddenly. It was very therapeutic to be with most of my immediate family at an event with some semblance of normalcy. We spent the rest of the day at CIA and ate delicious take out from the Eveready Diner, since the resident assistant extraordinaire was on duty. It was also lovely using my sister's private RA bathroom to shower post swim. After Francis and I got back to the city, I remember curling up into bed while he watched Star Trek: Voyager, and feeling incredibly lucky to have an amazing swimming support system, and to be small part of such a great community of athletes. I still think of that day whenever I hear Jerry Goldsmith's beautiful theme to Voyager. I am hoping to channel that wonderful memory of family and good food when I am feeling tired or ready to quit Stage 2.

Savvy motivated volunteer right there!

Some course information courtesy of 8 Bridges. The two bridges are the Kingston Rhinecliff and the Mid-Hudson. It also goes by FDR's home and presidential library. Anyone who knows my family and its shared (well, mostly shared) love of all things historical will not be surprised that the FDR house was one of the first places we visited when Casey got into CIA.

Hoping for good weather, calm water, and a north wind!

Host Fast,

Laura

Just Keep Swimming...

It has been months since my last post. Not for lack of swimming, but for lack of a good attitude about swimming and life. Winter training is boring, lonely, and truly embodies the phrase "nothing to write home about." Now that I have survived what proved to me a much more difficult winter training season than I expected, I feel the need to reflect on it and how it got me to a milestone.

In December, I registered for stages 2 (June 8) and 6 (June 13) of 8 Bridges. Stage 6, as you will recall, is the stage I came very close to completing last year. Stage 2 is a brand new challenge for me. Longer in distance and tougher as far as tidal assist. What drew me to stage 2 is its beauty and that I will get to swim past the Culinary Institute of America where my sister went to school (and maybe have croissants thrown at me as I swim by). 

I started off the winter as gung-ho as ever, but got bored very quickly, was plagued by a never ending series of colds and mystery illnesses, and "real life outside of swimming" stressors that made the pool the last place I wanted to spend my time. In fact, my ideal day was one spent under a blanket with a book and "Once Upon A Time" on Netflix than one swimming: NOT a feeling I am used to. These were all difficult to shake. Initially, I put immense pressure on myself to "snap out of it," or "swimming will take your mind off things." I quickly learned that just had to let things run their course, while trying my absolute best to get to the pool and work hard once I was there. It was a true lesson in that time and healthy outlets of emotion heals all. Yes, swimming is very therapeutic for me, but I had to learn how to deal with things when a solid 3,000 yards just won't cut it. Fortunately, due to an amazing support system and some time, things turned around.

Yesterday, I got up at 3:20 AM (before my alarm!), slapped on some sunscreen, kissed Francis goodbye, and headed out to the beach with Coach Bonnie and her fiance, Gray. We met Lori, and at 5:30, I was swimming towards a beautiful sunrise. It was COLD. The water was 56 degrees (nothing I can't handle), but the air was 49 degrees and the northwest wind was relentless. Every now and then, the beach resembled the desert with beautiful swirling sands. I have done plenty of cold dips and swims, but this was different. I've never swam with such a cold wind and air temperature. The water was warmer than the air, but the wind on my back was not making it feel that way. I kept diving down to try to get in the warmer water, but I sadly do not have gills. Even with all that pain, there was still something religious and wonderful about swimming into that sunrise and being one of maybe five people on the beach and the only one in the water. I usually hate the loneliness, but I reveled in it yesterday. I finally felt like I was an open water swimmer again. 

My initial goal was to swim for 3 hours, but it was simply too cold, and I stayed in for two hours. While it was short of the initial goal, I was thrilled that I stayed in as long as I did. Also, I was overjoyed to hear that my stroke rate remained steady up until the very end, a feat that is glorious considering how uncomfortable I was! It was an amazing swim! Getting dressed was a comedy of errors, but thanks to my No Flash Towel I was covered. The most embarrassing moment was asking Bonnie to put my shoes and socks on for me, since I had the dexterity of a four month-old baby. Thanks, mom ;)

Without the struggles of the winter training season, I may have not had the mental toughness to put up with the nagging and biting cold that overtook my body yesterday. While I wish this winter could have been filled with more meets and solid workouts and fewer tissues and stress dreams, the bad prepared me in its own way.

My swims are just around the corner! I am ready, excited, nervous, and finally ready to write about them. More to comes.

Hold Fast,
Laura