It’s 9:15 am on a Saturday morning.  I’m on the top deck of a tri-level ferry cruising through San Francisco Bay en route to Alcatraz Island.  It’s 58 degrees and the wind is cutting pretty hard across me as I’m only in knee length spandex jammers (shorts I swore I would never wear for any sport, but oh well).  I’m surrounded by about 275 other nervous swimmers.  A couple hundred yards to the east there is an identical ferry with the other half of this morning’s swimmers.  I’ve had very few nerves for the last few months since maybe my first open water training swim in La Jolla cove.  But jumping off a perfectly good boat into an unfamiliar bay with chilly water and strong currents has me questioning my own thought process to a degree.  So, how did I get here?

              I will try not to draw this backstory out too long because, to me personally it’s not overly interesting, but is still something I wanted to document.  In summer of 2021 I was started to run more and actually had signed up for the San Francisco half marathon with a friend.  In early July as I was started to do longer runs, I noticed some weird pains after runs.  Not muscle pains, but what felt like joint and bone pain.  I had to cancel the run and stop running for a few weeks to see what was going on.  I stopped exercising but the pains grew worse.  By August, I was having trouble getting out of bed.  Getting out of cars was excruciating for some reason.  Carrying Ford was out of the question, but Willa was manageable because she was still a small baby.  I was downing Aleve and just hoping the pain would go away.  It didn’t, and I was started to get a little scared of what the hell was going on.

              At this point I kind of told myself that as hard as it is to imagine, if I can never run again that will be ok I guess, as long as I can walk and live somewhat pain free and be able to play with my kids.  After a few months of pain, I made an appointment with a rheumatologist.  I answered question after question and did blood panel after blood panel for a couple months with no real improvement.  I tried not to complain too much because nobody wants to be around someone who is always whining about aches and pains. 

              By the winter the doctor narrowed it down to a few things it could be, some would be permanent and some would be temporary.  I was praying for temporary and that the new prescription of Humira shots would cure whatever it was.  Within three months of the six months of treatment most of the pain was gone.  Within six months I was back to 100%.  The doctor may have never given me the complete diagnosis of what I had, but she cured it nonetheless, and I am forever grateful to her. 

              So being pain free in early 2022 put me in a weird place.  I was a little gun shy to attempt a run again.  Not even going out for a short 3-4 mile run at an easy pace.  Tennis was out of the question and the same with lifting.  So, I think for about six months I just didn’t exercise.  It was weird for me as to some degree I have tried to stay pretty active since college.  Then we joined the YMCA in July of 2022 to have pool access for the kids and us to beat the heat.

              Walking by the lap pool one day I thought back to a lot of conversations I have had with older guys that used to run.  They have all said something like “ I used to run a lot, but switched to swimming to save my knees.”  I knew it was a zero-impact exercise I kicked myself for not considering it sooner.  I bought some goggles and upgraded to an apple watch and soon went for my first lap swim in 19 years.  My senior year of high school I used to go to school, then lift, then swim laps.  I’m sure my form was terrible but I remember it being a fun way to do cardio (I hadn’t yet discovered distance running til a few years later).

              I think most people overestimate their athletic ability when doing a new activity.  I’m guilty of this and probably even more so than the average person.  My first lap swim was likely pretty funny to watch.  I have never swam competitively and apart from knowing how to swim, I’ve just never done it in the sport sense of it.  I was taking maybe 3 breaths per 25/yard half lap and popping up to breath vertically instead of tilting my head to side.  A lifeguard saw me in locker room and gave me some tips (your stroke is half decent, but breathe every other stroke.  Tilt head to side.  Buy better goggles.  Kick more) I thanked him and implemented those next time.  This session was maybe 10 laps with breaks every other lap.  So not even 1/3 of mile with out of control breathing and likely pretty slow times.

              That night I googled the Alcatraz shark fest in SF.  I had heard of it through a friend.  It was the next week.  So, I knew that was out of the question, but also knew a year would give me time to maybe see if I could knock it out in 2023.  I decided that day that I would do what it takes to learn to swim in a pool.  Then I would somehow learn to swim in cold water.  Lastly, I would learn to swim in open water.  With 70 miles of usually chilly coastline, parts two and three should be attainable. 

The fall of 2022 I swam in the YMCA pools like crazy.  Five days a week.  Sometimes six.  On the website it says for Sharkfest you should be swimming a mile in a pool in 40 minutes or less.  So, my goal that fall was to start swimming 1-mile freestyle sessions.  I think the first time I hit a mile it was 54 minutes with 6 breathing breaks (every 300 yards).  “You will be bad at new things at the start, this isn’t forever, you will get less slow” I told myself after every swim.  54 became 52.  52 down to 49.  I switched from trunks to spandex jammers and that took off another 2 minutes.  The first time I broke 40 might have scared people in other lanes as I looked at watch and yelled out. 

              In early January I switched to going 1.5 miles in the pool.  Again, it started slow at 70 minutes, but I soon stopped taking any breathing breaks, or at maximum would take 15 seconds every half mile to readjust my goggles and catch a little breath.  I was soon under an hour in the 1.5 mile and even getting times around 54 minutes.  My times were good, but I also remembered that SF bay isn’t an 80-degree YMCA pool with 3 inches of chop and no current.     

              In late January 2023 fortunate fell my way with a broken heating pump at one of the La Jolla’s outdoor pools.  One of those weekday mornings I was there at my normal 6am staring at a pool with nobody in.  As I jumped in it was like getting punched in the ribs at full force.  55-degree water might not sound that cold, but it’s absolutely brutal when you aren’t conditioned.  The lifeguard looked at me like I was an idiot and told me there were open lanes in the far pool that was still heated.  I waved him off and told him “I was working on something.”  The first few laps are absolutely torture and your brain gets confused easily and your limbs don’t want to work in concert as all the blood rushes to the core of your body.  Somehow, I stayed in for the full hour of my 1.5 swim.  My time was only 3 minutes slower than my previous 1.5 in a heated pool, so I was happy.  I swam ten or so times over the next couple weeks in the cold broken pool.  As my body adjusted to tolerating cold water and learning how to swim in it, I probably grew overconfident.  Remember at this point, I still have never really tried swimming in an open body of water out in the wild.

              Fast forward to April of 2023 and I thought it the right time to make the switch to some open water training swims in the ocean.  Water temperature was 58 and I was confident I would go out and just swim 1.5’s in under an hour.  My fitness was good, and I handled the cold YMCA pool.  No problem, right?

              I joined a group on Facebook for the La Jolla Cove Swimmers.  I legit did not know where they entered the water, the routes, the lengths, or really any of how it worked.  So I just showed up one morning and kind of followed a group of six.  They said they were swimming a mile round trip.  I was cocky and just thought that I would swim with them a little and then past them and get in my 1.5.  Again, overconfidence at a new thing is a funny thing.  They were ahead of me within 50 yards.  Dodging 100-pound seals in the cove scared me more than I thought it would.  I hadn’t been in cold water in two months so my breathing was terrible and stilted.  As they dusted me out of the cove, I tried to at least swim straight and work on sighting.  I tried to not look at my watch much but I would swim what felt like .5 miles and look down to see I went .15 miles.  By the time I swam in semi circles and got back to the beach I had only gone .55 miles in a really really slow time.  Dejected, I got me gear and got back in my car.  Maybe, I wasn’t cut out for this.  If it took me 33 minutes to swim .55 miles, how the hell could I swim 1.5 miles in 75 minutes or less?

              But a week later I went back and swam 1.06 miles in 52 minutes.  On Sunday April 30 my app shows that I entered the water at 6:16 am and got out at 7:34am, which equals 1.56 miles in 78 minutes.  Basically, the bare minimum I would need for Alcatraz.  Better yet my swim map shows a straight line out and a straight-line back in.  I was learning to sight and navigate the currents.

              Over the summer I basically did the same thing.  Jump in the water around 6:15am on Sunday mornings and swim between 1.5 to 3 miles each time.  I would have seals swim right under me.  Garabaldi the size of soccer balls would ignore me.  I’ve seen spiny lobster, bat rays, and had a dolphin jump 15 feet in front me.  Birds have dive bombed me, but I just try to zone it out and focus on my times.  Elite athletes always talk about “the process” and I have started to understand what they mean.  The process isn’t the actual game, it’s the waking up at 5:30am to go train.  It’s the choosing your dinner the night before that will put your stomach in the best place to wake up and go practice. It’s reading article after article of how to get better at your goal.  I must state at this point though that I don’t consider myself an athlete, much less, and elite athlete.  But it doesn’t mean that I don’t try to at least get into that mindset to train harder and get better each day. 

              Towards midsummer 2023 I couldn’t not run any longer.  I decided to try a three-mile run.  Slow but no pain.  Within a week I remembered how much I missed running and was running three days a week and swimming the other four.  I told myself I was “cross training” but I was already eyeing half marathons for after the shark fest swim. Within a month I was going out for 10-12 mile runs and realized this was fine but I’ve got to do one thing at a time and focus on swimming for these last six weeks until the swim.  I readjusted to one or two runs a week with the rest pool and open water swimming.

              At 9:15am the first horn blasted and we all line up on the ferry to start making the six-foot jump into the bay in pairs.  I’m nervous but have the feeling that feeling will go away as I hit the cold water and have to focus on the 1.5 miles in front me.  I hit the water and sink a few feet.  As I surface to swim away, I am relieved.  I was expecting the gut punch of freezing water, but it’s basically the same 63-65 degrees I’ve been swimming in all summer.  I swim slowly to the starting area and try to find space so I don’t get trampled by the overeager starters I have read about.  It has been vital for me for the last year to have this swim recorded on my Apple watch incase the timing chip in my swim cap malfunctions or something.  Some people swim for “community” or “friendships” or feelings like that. Not me.  I swim for time.  I am trying for the lowest number I can possibly get.  And every time I do this in the future, I will swim to set my PR.  That’s it.  I will never enter a swim or run where I don’t feel like I can hit my personal record.  Getting the lowest possible time is the reason I’m out there, anything else is merely a distraction.  Being a numbers and stats guy I need to record my time myself like I would a marathon or a half marathon.

              The second horn (starting horn) goes off about 4 minutes earlier than expected and I’m sitting there treading water and staring into space.  Oh no!  So, I hold the water lock on my watch for the 5 seconds needed to get it off.  Ok Done, as people swim around me and wonder why I haven’t started.  As I toggle to the open water swim workout, I think I dipped under water, but clicked it from under water.  Luckily, I see it start and know that I got the workout function started and I can go.  Probably wasted my first 10 seconds, but well worth it.

              Since I was (purposely) towards the back it wasn’t as crowded as the front group taking off on their swim.  Yet, I still got the kicks and arms to the body from other people, and I’m sure I did it to a couple of others as well.  It’s part of the swim and no apologies are given nor expected.  My stroke and breathing feels like it normally does the first .25 mile.  Bad.  It just takes a while to get your arms, legs, and breathing in the certain rhythm needed.  The current is taking me towards the bay bridge at a decent clip.  If you can feel the current as you swim you know it’s pretty swift.  From reading a lot about what to expect I know this is normal, but it’s still weird almost swimming at a 45 degree angle at your target.  I try not to look at my watch too much as that takes you out of your stroke and slows you down.  When I feel like I have been going forever I look down expecting to see .75 and halfway!  I see .44 and am close to distraught.  I get a sense I’m towards to back of the overall pack and from seeing my time do some quick math to realize I’m pacing at slower that 75 minutes and could be “picked up.”  That means that if you are going too slow, they pick you up in a boat and you don’t get to finish.  I told myself if anybody in a boat tries to talk to me, I will pretend I don’t hear them and just swim faster.

              Overall, I’m glad I’ve looked at my watch then because I know I have to speed up.  My stroke starts to smooth out and I can feel I’m out of the worst of that cross current.  I start to make stronger strokes and start passing people every minute or so.  I think I’m going the right way and just develop a plan.  If there are people swimming on my left they are playing that cross current even safer than me.  If there are also people on my right, they are being more aggressive, but could also miss the opening of aquatic park if they get swept out west by the flood tide.   So, if I’m somewhere in the middle of the swimmers ahead of me my line will remain true. 

I look down again when I think I’m halfway.  I happen to look at my watch right at .75.  I’m pacing for 80 minutes but I know I have sped up.  They likely won’t (and they didn’t) pull swimmers that just missed the 75-minute cutoff.  I keep swimming with some pretty good strokes while passing a few more people.  My googles haven’t fogged which is rare and amazing and my breathing feels great.  If the water is chilly, I don’t notice or care. 

              I look down at 1.10 miles and do some quick math to realize I’m now pacing at 70 minutes.  In my head I wonder if I can finish in 65 minutes which is somewhat the neighborhood, I thought I would be in.  I enter aquatic park and start hearing the cheers of the crowd.  I think back to many half and whole marathons where just the cheers of the crowd kept me running that last stretch to the line.  My stroke feels faster than ever but it still seems like I’m making slow progress through the little enclosed cove.  I’m somewhat tired but in good mental shape as I make the last stroke and then plant a foot in the shallow water.  I know Alyssa and the kids are nearby in the crowd taking pictures, but I can’t risk looking around or I would probably trip through the line or something.  I exit the water and walk over the line and just to process that it is over.  The last year of learning a new sport/hobby has led me to this moment, and it’s so very worth it.  I look at my watch to see 67 minutes.  If I would have placed a bet on myself the number would have been between 65 and 70 minutes so I’m not thrilled with the number, but wouldn’t say disappointed either.  It’s more of a baseline that I will likely try to best in the next couple of years when I return for round two.  I finished 10 out of 14 in the Men’s 35-39 non wetsuit division.  I don’t sign up for races of any type to finish that low, so that is all the motivation I will need going forward to my next OWS.

              I grabbed my gear that they brought back from the ferry and found Alyssa and the kids.  I told her she was the real brave one for wrangling two small kids around SF that morning.  I also told her of the “brave” swimmers that walked barefoot on San Francisco streets for 3 blocks to the ferry.  I wore sandals, until 2 minutes before jumping off boat.  The rest of the weekend we enjoyed a Braves game, good food and some amazing views of the city from cable cars and elevated piers.  There are some amazing parts of San Francisco.  If they can ever solve some of the glaring issues they face as a city, it could be quite the destination for future vacations and road trips from our family at least. 

              I hope I didn’t make this swim sound harder than it really was.  Maybe it was just harder for me as I never really did the competitive swim thing growing up so I’m learning in a shorter time frame and as an adult.  But, this was a great baseline for some longer and harder OWS swims I plan to do in the future.  Right now, I have to get back to running more, as I will likely do the Long Beach half and then the Carlsbad full coming up.  So back to my first love of running for now.  But, if this was the only OWS I ever do, then it was worth…so many times (and strokes) over.

Thank you to:

Alyssa-Patience and understanding while I spent hours in the water, and helping me plan our vacation part

Ford- always asking me about all the animals I see while swimming

Willa-offering to “swim on my back” so she could do the swim too

Julie/Kristi—having us on our way up and feeding us and Star Baby time

Richard/Karen---snacks and our SF dinners!

Frank Morris---for proving it’s possible