Deer Creek                      8-14-2010





“A man’s life is interesting primarily when he has failed—I well know. For it’s a sign he tried to surpass himself.”

-Georges Clemenceau



I’m not really sure where I want to go with this post so I’m just going to type and hope that it’s worth the time you spend reading it and are maybe able to take something away from it. I know that the preface to my blog perhaps wasn’t that clear in understanding so I will start there. The vast majority of my writing style is using riddles or writing to ‘be read in-between the lines.’ Sometimes on the other hand I am very literal to exact definitions of the words I use. Indeed my vocabulary isn’t picked wily nilly, but meticulously put together like a puzzle fitting every word and sentence together exactly. If you were to read my poetry this would be better understood. Using these devices is a neat way to pour out feelings without fear of being exposed. Such is the writer’s mind I suppose. Going back to the title: “Swimming Towards Redemption,” I would think it obvious that I don’t mean to imply that by any achievement in the water will save my soul. It’s just a fancy short way of saying, “By swimming and achieving small goals and pushing myself to bigger ones, I will ‘atone’ for quitting my high school team and prove to myself that I can do what I set out to do. Even though I was getting slower I could’ve kept going then and still can now.”

If you are a constant visitor to my blog you have heard about my family in every post and you will again here. Please forgive me for my redundancies. God and my family are truly the source of my strength. Without their vast love and continued support I would simply lack the power. I remember when I was a young boy at the Doctors for my checkup that I went to every 3 months to keep an eye on my kidneys. The Doctor talked about how I shouldn’t be able to get out of bed in the morning, and I was hit with an intense outpouring of love and instantly knew that this was able because God gives me the strength. On countless occasions since various Doctors and specialists have stood baffled at lab results and medical anomalies that had no medical explanation. My parents and I during these moments would steal glances to one another and with a smile testify of our knowledge and give our thanks. To remember this daily blessing I have a little saying that I repeat in my mind or whisper under my breath when I am starting a race, or even just to train. “I swim with God.” Or “God swims with me.”

When my brother began to get into triathlons the resentment I had for myself that I took out on swimming began to evaporate and found that it was again okay to get into the pool and renew the love I had previously lost. A couple years past and I competed in a few triathlons with him and my sister.

From triathlons Josh’s interest was turned to open water swimming. He mentioned a book he read and parts of the stories it contained. I bought Swimming To Antarctica, by Lynne Cox and within the first two pages I was hooked. Her accounts of endless determination and overwhelming training was a great inspiration to me and planted a desire to push myself that clung to every line that my eyes passed over and was nourished by every chapter. By the end of the book this desire conceived a determination to make a memoir of my own swims and journey that led me to them. We picked out many races to be possibilities and decided on a race held at Alcatraz to be the first. After an incredible trip with the family and an amazing experience at the race, we faced the sad fact these illustrious trips weren’t going to fit the budget every year and shifted focus to local open water events.

With one race completed my confidence in being able to accomplish greater goals was growing and my will was a snowballing force barreling downhill unopposed. With my next race set for Deer Creek where I would attempt my first 5k, I began a furious schedule and got to training. I’ve found that whenever I take time off from any sport that the first day back is the most important. The more I’m able to push that first time back the stronger I am and the easier training will be. That first workout I powered through the water with the grace and strength of a dolphin and the hunger and malice of an Orca preying after a seal, focused and relentless. I had found a new depth of character that I’ve never had before in my life. After just an hour in the pool I had swam thousands of yards while working through several different sets. Sprints, ladders, distance, pull, and land all played a role in bringing my body out of hibernation. With acception of being on a team I usually compete to enjoy myself and improve my own time not worrying about anyone else. This time I wanted to compete and see where I would end up in the standings.

For the next couple of workouts I doubled my distance and speed each day. The next several weeks my fury continued and focus shifted to mechanics rather than brute strength whereas as I’ve gotten older have learned the two are symbiotic, the one improving the other. I was riding such a high and getting anxious to prove myself and have the hours of training pay off. To reinforce my thinking, I wasn’t being cocky I had just never been so focused and determined. Inevitably a fall was sure to be coming my way.

It was beautiful mid-August morning, a perfect day for a swim. After the 10 mile and the 10k racers had started it was time for all the 5k swimmers to get in the water. My dad who was in the kayak to be my support boat to toss me snacks or fluid as I needed and I entered the water. It was a very pleasant temperature in the 60’s. As part of my strategy I swam to the front left flank of the group. Starting in the front would allow me a little distance ahead of anyone behind me that was faster while being on the left side I had a more direct path towards the buoy that marked the halfway point. The horn sounded and the first couple hundred yards was an all out sprint to gain separation as well as position. After this initial push was over I stretched out my stroke and got into a comfortable pace. I was feeling good and had a small group behind me that I kept an eye on looking over my shoulder every once in awhile to keep on the offensive gauging their distance from me and to stop any attempt to overtake me.

I was getting close to the turnaround when things fell apart. My swim cap was squeezing tight on my forehead and causing a headache. After a couple practices the weeks preceding I had the same problem and told my family half jokingly that I’d have to wear a cap around the house working my way up to sufficient time to endure the race. I should’ve. I stayed in one place and waded thinking what to do and hoping that it might pass in a few moments. My dad paddled over and asked if I needed a drink or anything to eat. I told him that I didn’t and all I needed was to get out. At the time I couldn’t think about how to solve it so to my gut wrenching regret and utter humiliation I swam to the edge of the reservoir and got out. It was the longest hike up to the road and all the way back to the parking lot that I had had to make, in which tears freely flowed unrestricted. I failed again. I started this post in the hope that it would turn into something great, that some great epiphany or lesson would be learned…But all I was able to reveal was that I give up too easily.

Early Beginnings

I dug up this paper I wrote 12 long years ago when I was in Jr High and thought I'd put it on here.  It doesn't really have anything to do with the blog other than the fact it's about swimming...

Once upon the happiest day in my life.  I was 13 and 1/2 years old standing on the starting block of my life, the block that was starting my future goals and successes.  "Swimmers take your mark!" "Get Set!" "Go!"  Five swimmers swimming to win, two on the left and two on the right with me in between.  25 yards, 50 yards, 75 yards... I was one stroke ahead of everyone else racing.  Then two.  Then all of a sudden I was there!  I won by ten strokes!

I looked up and to my right, my coach was running, jumping, and screaming as loud as he could.  "You beat your best time by sixteen seconds!!!"  I ended up with a time of 1:23.  So after that I was very happy.  And that was the happiest day of my childhood...Until next time.

The funny thing about this assignment is that I got sent home with a note for my parents to come and talk with my English teacher about it.  She thought I plagiarized it! Ha ha makes me laugh.

:45/123’                                                                                       2-24-11




Josh and I were instantly hooked after jumping into the freezing waters of Deer Creek that just 5 days after he and his buddy Gordon, who couldn’t join us at Deer Creek, made plans to go to Bountiful Pond and have a go at pushing beyond what we had done.

We met at the pond at 4:30. Josh came with Sabrina and their boys, Gordon brang his wife and kids, and I came alone. We unloaded the ladder and headed toward the first pier where we planned on jumping in. The water was much deeper right off the pier than we thought it would be, the ladder we lowered down barely reached the platform when it hit the bottom. Josh put in the thermometer and after a few minutes got a reading of 41 degrees, 5 degrees warmer than our previous jump.

Four of us were going to be getting in, Josh and his wife Sabrina, Gordon, and myself. We laid out our towels and blankets in preparation. Josh was first and without hesitation jumped and started swimming after about 9 strokes he did a flip turn and headed back. Seconds after Josh had pulled him out and gotten his towel wrapped around him Gordon was diving in and swimming as if it was his daily routine putting his face down and everything! It was really amazing to see him go after it like that, especially for his first time. When he got out and was drying off he experienced what Josh and I did a few days earlier…that addiction to the cold that takes hold of you and he was already planning for the next swim.

It was than my turn. I was really excited to see how it would be to swim in water of that temperature and see what I could do. Going into the swim I only had a couple loose plans of what I would do. Learning from last time I knew that first of all I had to do a ‘water polo stroke,’ doing this would keep my titanium plates out of the water and not cause any trouble. As for the second I didn’t want to push myself too far so I just planned on doing maybe 10 yards. Not a lot but I would be happy to just do that much. I swam out at a decent pace and was cold but it was definitely bearable. I didn’t have any idea how far I had gone but decided to turn back before I got out too far. Upon turning back I instantly felt my pace significantly slow down and after looking at the video it is easily evident that this occurred. I’m not sure if my muscles were tightened from the cold or what the exact cause was but it was an interesting experience. When I got out Josh wrapped my towel around me and I started to get dry. My body wasn’t immediately warm as last time, this time it took me a minute or two to get comfortable. Standing on the platform watching Sabrina jump in I also noticed that this time my feet didn’t hurt like before in fact they weren’t even cold, but my hands for about 20 minutes were very cold and numb. When they unthawed the tips of my fingers were burning and a little painful. I got my gps that I had inside my cap while in the water and it read that I was in for 45 seconds and went 123 feet! I was pretty happy I had reached just over 41 yards but at the same time was a little upset that I didn’t push farther. We can’t wait til next time! This addiction may very well put me in the hospital before I’m through pushing my boundaries…

                                          The ladder is fully extended!

Gordon, Josh, Sabrina, Jake(Me)

...Gordon has a video he posted on his blog:

http://www.gordsswimlog.blogspot.com/

Polar Plunge                                                                  2-19-2011




Severe shaking, stiff muscles, cyanosis, slowed heart rate, decreased mobility, amnesia, weakness, drowsiness, confusion, hallucinations…Anyone with any sanity would not subject their bodies to this torment. My brother however is one that loves pushing himself to new boundaries usually with me not far behind eager to take the next step. Josh had signed up to participate in a Polar Plunge at Deercreek Reservoir, one of four sites that would benefit the Utah Special Olympics. Being out of a job I played the little brother card telling him how freezing he would be thinking I was safe unable to pay to sign up. The Sunday before the Plunge was to take place the conversation came up again while having our weekly family get together for dessert, and again being the supportive type I am for my brother I began the harassing again. A few minutes later I noticed Josh was on his phone and didn’t think much of it. Then he raised his head holding the screen towards me saying “Ok, you’re signed up!”

It’s true I was happy he volunteered my participation. Neither of us had been in water that cold before and thinking about one of my hero’s Lynne Cox swimming in frigid waters to Antarctica over a mile in 32 degrees quite frankly the idea was enticing.

We got up Saturday and headed up to Deercreek around 8 am. The sky was covered with clouds and soon the snow began falling. After arriving at Deercreek Island Resort we walked through the parking lot toward the boat ramp where the Plunge would take place. Looking at the Utah shaped hole in the reservoir I was surprised to see how thick the ice was that had been cut out with a chainsaw earlier that morning…Yes I know its winter but still, I didn’t think it would be a foot thick.

Days leading up to the event I thought about the previously mentioned symptoms of hypothermia and instantly threw them out knowing my bodies core wouldn’t drop the almost 4 degrees necessary to usher in the life threatening condition just jumping in and immediately getting out. There were however a couple things that I was concerned about; 1. Hyperventilation, would I be able to control my breathing just jumping in and not easing my way into the freezing water? And 2. The titanium plates that line the front of my skull, is just a few seconds submerged in cold enough water enough to cool down the metal under the skin bringing painful headaches? I wasn’t sure.

Soon it was time to get started; two divers suited up and entered the water as a safety to help anyone that may require. They told us the water was just a couple of feet deep where we were going to be entering and with this I was able to relax about hyperventilating, even if the shock was great enough to cause irregular breathing I was confident knowing I could touch the bottom and walk out. It was going to be an ‘every man for himself’ to enter the water, cannonball after cannonball and pig after chicken splashed into the water trying to spray the spectators standing close by. We made our way over and stripped down, Josh in his famous poke a dot speedo and I in my awesome jammers.

Continuing the tradition of previous participants Josh ran and cannonballed into the frigid waters. After he was clear I made my way to the mat and dully jumped in. My head broke the surface and to my amazement the 36 degree water although a shock to the body it wasn’t as cold as I thought it would be and hadn’t caused any shortness of breath, not using the ladder I put my two palms on the edge of the ice and hoisted myself out of the water as I had done many times lifting myself out of the pool. Running, or at least quickly walking up to my family I grabbed my towel and wrapped it around me. Standing there in my towel and suit I was right about one concern, in the literal seconds I was in the water it had cooled down the metal in my head bringing a painful headache concentrated in my forehead. Luckily this only lasted maybe a half minute. While standing on the ramp talking to family and watching the others jump in I noticed my body wasn’t shaking as it does in order to create heat to warm itself up. I was warm. In fact in my towel I was warmer than I had been all dressed up in my sweater and beanie before getting in. I don’t say this to sound cocky but rather to give credit to the amazing ability that our bodies have. Had just that short amount of time instantly triggered the body into its survival mode restricting blood circulation to less mortal parts? I can only speculate having no medical training but I believe that that is what had happened. The only thing that was cold was my feet.

Enthusiastically Josh soon said “I’m going again!” So following suit I threw my towel off and headed after him. The announcer was excited to see that the two of us were coming back for more. My second jump was more energetic running up and doing a cannonball. Getting out one spectator asked me “Was it warmer the second time?” I chuckled, “Ya it is!” This time standing off to the side my feet were not only cold but now were very painful. We were in merely a few seconds but even that little taste walking on numb feet felt like walking on raw exposed nerves.

Josh and I putting in the thermometer, making sure not to feel the water and pysch ourselves out

Josh and I drying off after the first jump...

                                
                  
                                          My cannonball on the second jump

No Josh is not naked

To view a video check out Josh's site:

http://www.utahopenwater.com/

Gulf Of Mexico

Just returned home from being with my parents in Florida last night.  Although I didn't participate in any races I was able to make it to Clearwater Beach on the west coast of Florida and swim in the Gulf Of Mexico.  It was early afternoon when we arrived at the beach and although it was partially cloudy the suns rays managed to penetrate through making it a comfortable mid 70's day.  People were scattered all along the vast stretches of soft powdery white sand; some were laying out while others ran along the shoreline and a select few tip-toed around in the water, but no one was going for it and getting in--and upon walking in I realized why all the hesitation.  With my body as the only thermometer I had I put the water at a chilly 50-55, significantly cooler than the Pacific wrapping your skin in a paralyzed tingly wet blanket.  Pushing hesitation aside I continued walking deeper and deeper into the ocean.  Standing neck deep in the water like a buoy my head bobbed and swayed as I contemplated submersion.  It took quite a few minutes to get used to the water but once I was in I enjoyed the experience and not to mention the fact that I was the only one in sight brave enough to muster the courage to face the cold.