Escape from Alcatraz
|
|
|
|
Escape from Alcatraz
To all those of you who expressed an
interest in my Escape from Alcatraz on the 16th, here's the full story (ONLY
a week after I got home. . .), for those who have heard pieces already and
for those who have not.
About 6:15 AM I headed out from the
hotel, wearing every warm item I brought with me to California (plus stuff I
bought the day before, like angora mittens), to walk the five blocks to the
meeting area. While the streets were practically silent on the way there,
it was a whole different story outside the museum where check-in was
held--families, friends, pets, volunteers, banana peels, etc. After some
initial instructions in regards to the race finish, all 800 (rather,
the slightly under 750 who had the guts to show up on race day ready to
compete, haha) of us walked to the pier to get on the ferries, which would
take us out to the island. You could tell immediately which swimmers were
which. Those of us brave enough to do the swim in skin (the "24/7 Wetsuit
Wearers" as we were referred to by the race director) were wearing layers of
clothing, whereas those in wetsuits (the "Wetsuit Using Swimmers-- WUSes" as
referred to by the race director, LOL) stood around in. . . wetsuits.
The boats puttered to a stop next to
the rocks on one side of the island and we began to slowly file down the
stairs to jump in. I hung towards the back (I had been on the upper deck
anyways) in order to be one of the last ones in. All 800 or so swimmers had
to be in the water for the race to begin-- and without a wetsuit I was
determined NOT to sit around and freeze any more than necessary, fully aware
that I was going to freeze regardless of how little sitting around I did in
the water.
The boat was devoid of all people
except the volunteers, two brave and may-I-mention-hard-core guys about to
do the swim in just a brief, and myself. The three of us exchanged glances
and, giving the two of them a smile and a wave, I walked up to the platform
and jumped off without a second thought. If I had stopped to ready myself,
the entry into the water would have been much more difficult. Nevertheless,
I realized what I was doing midair and there were only two words going
through my head (we'll leave these unmentioned at this time. . .). It took
a split second for the shock of the 61.6 degree water (their measurement was
on the very surface, so really it was colder) to set in, and once I came up,
gasping from the sudden temperature drop, did I realize how cold the water
was. Someone floated over to me and asked, "Are you okay?" to which I
responded, between gasps, "Just f*****' great." Both of us laughing at this
point, we swam towards the line of kayaks to start the race, which was
underway at about the point I got in. Now I was doing glorified
breaststroke-doggy-paddle, instead of looking like an actively drowning
victim, as I had a minute before that. I forced myself to put my head under
despite the feeling that my brain would turn into a block of ice. The lead
swimmers were headed toward the beach at full speed, and I knew I would have
to sprint even harder to pass the swimmers clustered together more tightly
than first-year women at a UVA frat party.
I zigged, zagged, and squeezed through
these groups as quickly as possible to avoid collisions, pissed-off people,
and out-of-control-frog-kicks (a good idea when that many people are that
close together WHY??). It was already too late for them to be trying to see
the buoys and lead swimmers, and instantly I was glad to have the experience
under my belt (er, cap) to know to sight for these things ahead of time.
I passed too many people to count while
trying to remain in the center of the course. I was already going at full
speed and didn't want extra yardage on top of that. As the groups on
the path of the course thinned out I was able to settle into a bit more of
an even pace. The water no longer felt cold; in fact, it began to feel
quite refreshing. In between sighting the buoys, a three-masted boat, and a
hotel on top of a hill, I stared down into the abyss of the San Francisco
Bay, hoping to see a shark. Not a huge, vicious one, but even a foot-long
baby shark would have been just fine. However, all I could see was deep
green fading to dark brown with the occasional small fish. How boring.
The piers and entrance to Aquatic Park
were starting to become sharper, but were still awhile off. To keep myself
focused, I pretended I was in a video game and had to pass other swimmers in
order to rack up points. As I picked up the pace again, passing numerous
more swimmers-- many of whom in wetsuits-- I had a surge of euphoria and
self-confidence that I was able to swim past them without their added
advantages of extra buoyancy and warmth. Holding a sprinting pace in the
situation was much easier than at any other pool-- without the feeling of
being overheated draining me, the cool surroundings fought off the drain
that a heated pool would cause.
As the docks, whip, and buoys along the
park entrance came into focus, my final concern of the race surfaced. We
had been told to aim toward the left of the park, as there was a fairly
strong current carrying us to the right. If we aimed directly for the
entrance, the current would carry us to the right andwe would comopletely
miss the entrance and become disqualified. I was terrified of this and swam
expecting a current as strong as the one we faced this year in the
Chesapeake Bay Swim-- so bad that I had to swim at a 45 degree angle to stay
between the spans with a reasonable amount of room for error. Considering
how extremem the current was for the Bay this year, I WAAAYY overestimated
where I would end up. I could have aimed halfway as far and been fine, but
having to swim a little extra along the dock was a much better alternative
to getting pulled out, so I wasn't one to complain.
Just as I was about 50 yards from the
park entrance, a surge of extremely cold water-- between 50 and 55 degrees--
hit me. I screamed several unmentionable phrases, and sprinted, yet again,
to get back to the "average" temperature water. I eased up on my speed as I
entered the park and as I suddenly entered water 15 degrees warmer than the
worst of the cold. But at 300 yards from the finish, this did not seem like
a good place to slow down much, as I had an opportunity to pass more people,
as they faded and my endurance training paid off. Once I hit sand I stood
up (after one failed attempt) and ran up the beach, tearing off my cap and
goggles. It was only then that I realized how damn cold I was. The line of
people in front of me could not seem to move any slower and I was shaking
horrifically from the cold. The process of exiting the swimmers from the
beach area was planned quite poorly for those of us who weren't all
toasty-warm in our wetsuits. As those finishers crowded around the beach
area with family, friends, children, pets, and mascots I became extremely
concerned about getting to my warm clothes so the prolonged exposure to
freezing water wouldn't be an issue.
I had thought ahead to put all of my
clothes in a bright pink mesh bag, which could be picked out easily from a
sea of white plastic bags. This ended up being one of the best moves of the
whole race. I dashed and weaved by all the people doing a lot of nothing to
graby my bag, throw on my parka, and zip it up-- the next best move. I also
put on my new pink angora mittens (well worth the $20-ugh from Benetton) I
bought the day before. The mittens themselves were a great concept, but as
I tried to use them to wipe the mud off of my face, I ended up having to
spit out pieces of angora, that somehow made it into my mouth, for the next
20 minutes.
I had felt before the race that it was
bad luck to pre-purchase any of the fun, quirky Alcatraz merchandise that
all the stores along the water sold. But now it was time. Dressed as if I
was going to an Arctic picnic, I ran over to the nearest store, not caring
at ALL that I was still dripping wet and had mud, sand, and sea sludge all
over my face.
Within minutes my arms were full of
mugs, shot glasses, magnets, an Alcatraz Swim Team shirt, and other fun
trinkets. I was proud to have "earned" all my fun stuff. But I was even
happier when the results were posted-- not only had I successfully completed
the race (goal #1), but I won my age group!! I tried not to get my hoped up
too much, as these were the preliminary, unofficial results, but I couldn't
help but be excited. Now my vacation could officially begin, with all the
hard work out of the way. After getting my fill of the post-race food, I
headed back to the my hotel, where I promptly passed out for about four
hours before I got up to shower and revisit Alcatraz-- but this time on the
actual island for their After Dark tour. What a day.
And what a day it was-- after the
official results had been posted, they confirmed that I had won my age group
and placed 12th out of 27 of the female non-wetsuit wearers. After some
calculations based on my time and the other groups of results, I am pretty
sure I came in 264th out of the 736 that had completed the race that
morning-- meaning that when I thought I had passed hundreds of people, I
did: over 500 of them!!!!! And for the icing on the cake, my race finish
photo turned out great--smiling as I came out of the water in my BEAUTIFUL
custom Splish suit, as can be viewed here (hard copies already on the way--
yes Dawn & Ira of COURSE one is for you!!):
Sound like fun? It's not too early to
register for next year!!
http://www.envirosports.com/events/displayevent.php?eventid=1791
Thanks to everyone for all their
support!!
Love, Susan
Susan Kasimer, retail manager
Sport Fair, Inc. "The Swimmer's Outfitter!" Specializing in Speedo, Splish, & TYR
5121 Lee Highway
(in between N. George Mason Dr. and Glebe Rd.) Arlington, VA 22207
Phone: 703 524 9500
Toll-Free: 800 524 9501 Fax: 703 524 9501
Monday - Friday 9-7
Saturday 9 - 5 Closed Sundays . |
|
