Redefining cold

Well last night came the shock that Sister Madonna Buder (80) has doubts about finishing this IM due to the water temperature. It's as of this morning 60.5 degrees. Yes, all decimals at this distance, in this race (back to that word later), matter.
I mean, you have to figure she has some pretty powerful troops on her side, right? So my imagination ran wild all day and into the night with just what would that water feel like.

Last evening, a gentleman who said he swam regularly in the Baltic Sea? and it was 50- told me it wasn't that cold... I had hope. For temporary insanity, like the rest of the people around me.

Well, when 2500 of your new best friends are jumping in you don't decide suddenly that you can't because it's too cold. Now you do wonder when you see some of them with neoprene caps, and swim socks (who knew? and who wanted to know?)

So I bit the bullet and was definitely in a take-my-breath-away moment but I have a pretty good imagination and it wasn't as bad as that. I did privately thank my coach for assigning a 10 minute swim- get in and get out. No problem with compliance on that front today. Got in tread a little, reveled in the fact that I had forgotten how much the wet suit buoys you up, the fact that the inside of the loop is nearly lined with kayaks ready to help or offer assistance if you need it- today and tomorrow.

I swam not enough to get into a groove and relax but enough to know that I can do that tomorrow and know that I'll find open space.
I remembered to get my face wet right away so the shock of that was under my control before I set out to swim.
I remembered to practice a little 'catch up' drill to keep my hand out front of me in case it is really congested when I begin.
Getting in your own head is the only option during the swim which is a good thing.
I need to remember Tim Hansen's advice of get a song going in my head, though I haven't picked one- the one most frequently played on my ipod- with a sturdy solid finish this and appreciate it message is "Boys of Fall" by Kenny Chesney. Not very many of those Friday nights...or these Sunday mornings - stay in the moment.