Austin SwimRun 2020 race report.
We haven't done a co-written swimrun racereport since our first swimrun together, SwimRun Lake James 2018. Turns out all we need to inspire us to do another one is to have someone tell us how much they loved that race report. Sold! As a refresher, Amy wrote the initial race report and her text looks like this, and then Trista went through and added her comments, which look like this. All good photos were taken by the amazing Aaron at The Aperture Adventures, and will be marked accordingly. If there's no annotation, the photo was taken by us or someone we handed our phone to briefly. Since there's so much text in here, and so you have a better idea of what things looked like, I included a lot of great pictures of people who aren't us. Just assume we did those same things, but maybe looked considerably less amazing doing them.
Except this one did. Better already!
Whether it SHOULD have is a thing that can be debated. I personally think it should have been cancelled. But since it DID happen, decisions had to be made. And Trista decided that she felt good about Odyssey's covid plan. And then decisions had to be made by me specifically. Trista could do it solo if I wasn't comfortable. And if it had involved traveling more than an hour from Austin, I probably wouldn't have done it. But it was close, there were accommodations made to keep things as safe as feasible, and I laid out my terms for doing this race, which were deemed acceptable. And we all agreed that backing out at any time was a perfectly acceptable option. I was a little torn over the decision to go, but it was just so hard to pass up the first swimrun in Texas, in my hometown, in a year that had started out with so much promise. I was determined….even if it meant driving 25 hours one way.
Because while more and more races are being held now, with distancing and masks, swimrun is unique in that, unless you're running it solo, you CAN'T distance from everyone, because you're gonna be with your partner (who is amazing!). And because there's so much swimming, carrying and wearing a mask isn't very feasible.
So Trista and I agreed that we would both get covid tests in the days before the race, and if we were both negative, we'd feel comfortable hanging out all weekend together, and same was true of anyone else who got tested, and with anyone unknown, we'd go distance and mask. And that was mostly feasible. The best laid plans of RDs and racers is still subject to the whims of the general population, some of whom are considerably less concerned about this whole pandemic thing than I am. (I am admittedly pretty far into the Concerned category.) Amy’s endurance for pandemicing is far more impressive than most.
So Trista drove to Austin from Pennsylvania, because she is crazy (and also not ready to fly, because Pandemic), and we spent the night in her adorable little rented Airstream trailer, and it was weird to be hanging out, unmasked, with someone who is not Matt. I tried to spoon with her to make her more comfortable about it.
Race morning we tried to remember how things worked, after months of not racing (other than Trista randomly busting out a 75 mile trail race a month or so ago). The race provided disposable masks in our packets, and some people wore them race morning. Fewer people wore them at the actual start line, but we did. One accommodation was a time trial start instead of a mass start, and that felt fairly safe. Listen, my expectations were low. On the drive from PA, once I hit TN, nobody was wearing masks. NOBODY. As Amy mentioned I recently did a trail race in PA and there were far less covid precautions at that race than Odyssey took at Swimrun Austin. I felt Odyssey did a really good job at creating, and sticking to the protocols they communicated to all athletes. Maybe we’ll get more into this later, but most volunteers were masked, or distant, or both and felt it was definitely more “hands-off” than a usual race. So I give them a solid A+ there.
As we were almost to the front, the two teams ahead of us were talking, and we heard one of them mention how sexy they looked, and we discussed how swimrun is truly a sexy, sexy sport. Can I spoil it here? Too soon? One of these teams had fun socks on and they became known to us as Team Sexy. Team Sexy saved our ass later!
Once it was our turn, we walked up to the start line and stood just before the timing mat. As they counted us down, Trista crouched down into a sprinter start position, because we are hysterical, and then they said go! Important to note that as soon as we took off (from our track start. Hysterical!) we noticed a camera on us. And before I could even tell Amy not to, she smiled and waved at the camera, and I probably did too, reflexably. I had made a mental note to remind Amy not to “jazz-hand, thumbs up, screech” or otherwise recognize the photog at all so that maybe just MAYBE we’d actually make it into the race photos this race. We never make the montage. We are always too wavey and smiley.
Run 1
And we're off! The first run was mostly on a wide gravel road, so we just cruised along at a surprisingly-moderate-given-how-Trista-usually-starts pace. I think what you mean is “thank you Trista for being reasonable so I don’t have to drag your ass to the finish when you bonk because you went out too fast.” You’re welcome, partner. With the spacing at the start, we were never really around other teams, and when they passed us, the road was wide enough for there to be plenty of space. After a couple minutes, I took my mask off and stashed it in the collar of my wetsuit, and Trista took hers off one ear and left it dangling from the other ear. Speaking of sexy. We had hoped, since they gave everyone masks to start with, that there might be a box or a trashcan or something to dispose of them a short way in, but.. there was not. There probably was, but we were probably blinded by our own sexy. So we carted them along with us for the run.
The first run was purportedly 2.1 miles, but around 1.5 miles, we saw the lake through the trees and realized we were heading down to the water for our first swim!
And we were READY. We don't care how fast we ran or swam or how we do compared to other people, but we enjoy trying to maximize our efficiency and minimize our time in transitions. Because dammit, I've ended up on the podium in triathlon before by swimming, biking, and running slower than my competitor, but out-transitioning them by a significant margin. If I can get bonus time WITHOUT having to run or swim faster or more, I am ALL IN. My partner is a (triathlon) transition ninja.
So as we approached the water, Trista unhooked and unwound the tether and gave me the other end. We put our paddles on our hands. I put my goggles over my eyes, and then realized that Hold up. Maybe now is a good time to remind our reader (thanks, mom!) that we don’t ever get to practice transitions together. The only time we get to, is during a race. So it’s not like we have a routine down. Okay….continue...(a) my goggles were completely grossly fogged up from having been on my sweaty head all morning, and (b) the journey from trail to lake was taking us over some big, chunky rocks that were hard to negotiate when effectively blind, and also attached to another person who is NOT presently blind, and therefore running faster than you. But there was too much going on to remove my goggles at that point, so I just stumbled along and hoped for the best. As ninjas do.
When we got to the water, we waded in past several other teams that were standing in the shallows negotiating their swim start, we hit split on our watches, we confirmed we were ready, and we headed out for our first swim! So fast, so efficient, so professional! Undoubtedly the best transition we’ve ever had. Big confidence boost heading into the race. Wheee!
Swim 1 Wait, what? No mention of the dead baby deer floating helplessly in the wake? Ok cool, if you forgot….I forgot. We won’t talk about that at all.
I fell in behind Trista, and immediately realized that my buoy was still on my back. Insert eye roll. So professional!
Team ShitShow, back in action! Oh but just wait...it gets better...
I pondered what the proper course of action was now. Do I tug on the tether and stop Trista long enough to get my buoy between my legs? I was just out of range to grab her foot, and not making any ground without my buoy there to keep my butt floatier. And the buoy is SO buoyant, it's very difficult to reposition it once you're already in the water, especially going from my back to between my legs. And really, if it's attached to my lower back, is it THAT much different from having it between my legs? It's probably making my lower back all buoyant and floaty, right? And even though I wasn't right on Trista's feet, I was able to hang just behind her, so I decided to just let it go. This swim was only supposed to be 660 yards, one of the shortest swims of the day, and surely I could gut it out slightly misconfigured for that long.
And I did! I remember nothing at all from that swim other than just trying to cling to Trista. Oh, and I tried to kick for a bit, because why not? Maybe it would help. It did not help. Kicking in shoes is just extremely weird.You’re weird. Meanwhile, I’m up front enjoying the beautiful sunrise. I’m breathing left to just take it all in, thinking how great it is to be back in Texas, in awe of the big Texas sky against the beautiful hill country, racing again, just loving life in general. The endorphins pumping so hard here that I didn’t even realize it was way after sunrise. And I didn’t even care that my mask was still hanging onto my left ear (so maybe our #sopro transition wasn’t so pro)….flapping around with each breath I took. I considered stopping to unhook it, in case it came loose I did not want it lost in the water, but decided it was solidly attached and would take care of it at the swim exit.
Good news is, the swims in this race were relatively painless, from a navigation perspective. The exits were blind, which is normally a little scary and frustrating, because that means when you start your swim, you can't see the point that you are swimming to. But usually that's because they're so far away, or around a bend, or some other thing you have to constantly sight and watch for. In this case, every swim followed the shoreline, basically from cove to cove. Super easy, mentally!
(Nerdery) SwimRun is a Swedish sport, and therefore has a Swedish name: ÖtillÖ, where en ö is an island, and you swim from one ö till the next ö. The course is very much driven by the terrain available at the race site. In the case of Pace Bend Park, the available non-private land was basically one giant ö, and the swims were all around the circumference of the ö (or ön) (look, I haven't spent 5.5 years studying Swedish via duolingo to let this opportunity to flex my kindergarten-level Swedish skills go by). (End Nerdery) Not true. Nerdery never ends with Amy. One of the reasons I love her.
All that to say, when you started a swim, all you needed to know was whether to go right or left, and then you just swam along the shoreline in that direction until you saw the exit flag. No real navigating. (Bold words from someone who drafted the whole time, and didn't have to navigate at all. I'm sure it was more complicated than that, but Trista made it look effortless.) Nah, you’re right….I wish I could take the credit for awesome navigation skills but you’re right. Hard to get wrong. Unless you were that one guy in the last swim who went left instead of right. Ooooof….that was tough to watch.
Okay, so, we got to the exit flag (jesus, are we still on swim 1?), we navigated through a bunch of deadly sticks emerging from the water, intent on impaling unsuspecting swimmers, and we emerged onto land again. It's always reassuring once you've gotten through a full run-swim cycle, and remember that this is both doable and fun! So fun!
Another team emerging from the first swim through the DeathSticks.
Photo by The Aperture Adventures
Run 2
Aside from underwater death-sticks, and a moderate amount of shoreline mud, this was one of the easiest swim exits. Nice and flat and easy. Which meant it was easy to discuss, as we untethered and ungoggled and whatnot, how I did not have to unbuoy because I HADN'T USED MY BUOY. I was prepared to give myself the MVP award for Most Shitshowiest, but then Trista turned her head to show me that she STILL HAD HER MASK HOOKED ON ONE EAR, and had done the entire swim like that. Gah, I wish that mask was visible in our photo. Which hey, by the way, we reminded each other not to look at the photog upon swim exit, and see? It worked! We got a race photo!
Go, Team ShitShow! Truly, we are a disgrace. But we are a disgrace having The Best Time. One day, when swimrun starts awarding a Miss Congeniality award, it’s totally ours!
Once we had gotten all of our gear re-situated, we headed out for the next run: 1.2 miles.
As we ran, Trista commented on the amazing sunrise. I said I hadn't even noticed, I was so busy frantically swimming. She seemed shocked I hadn't noticed, and turned toward where the sun was coming up to point out how beautiful it was. And.. it really wasn't. I mean, it was fine. But it wasn't the magnificently beautiful spectacle she had been waxing rhapsodic about. She looked confused, then put her goggles back over her eyes and said, "... Oh. It's my goggles." And then we spent the next few minutes making goggle/sunrise jokes, until we got to the first aid station. This will make it into my online Roka purchase review. These goggles also made the race-provided orange swim cap my instant favorite cap. The color popped in the water. Made sighting other swimmers super easy.
As we got water at the aid station, we finally threw away our not-intended-for-swimming masks. (Mine had still been tucked inside the neck of my wetsuit.) We had to turn around to toss it, Amy almost forgot again! Told you she pandemics hard.
After the aid station, we ran through the Highland Lakes camp area, which was mostly road running. With cheering spectators! I mean, like, 5 cheering spectators, but still! We gave them an appropriately enthusiastic greeting (jazz hands, woohoos, etc), then ran on. And then we both turned to each other and said, "Was one of those people SMOKING?!" Very strong odor of cigarette smoke in the air. It's not unheard of for spectators at a race to be smoking, but it's rare enough to be notable and somewhat eye-rollable. And unpleasant when you're breathing hard. I don’t mind it. I know, it’s weird...but I enjoy the smell of a single cigarette on a run.
But it turns out that we were wrong, because as we ran up to and passed two guys wearing Medic tshirts, we realized.. THEY were the ones smoking. Which elicited even MORE eyerolling and "forfuck'ssake"ing. And then, of course, a lot of thanking them for being out there and asking them if they wanted to join us, etc, as we passed them.
Only other thing I remember from run 2 was we ran by some water slides and a ropes course in the camp pavilion, and we decided if we were designing a swimrun course, it would absolutely have water slides and a ropes course (complete with zipline, maybe using the tether, until the tether burned through and sent both partner plummeting to the ground). So.. stay tuned for SwimRun TristAmy. Maybe get some supplemental life insurance while you wait. But the twisty slide will be epic.
Swim 2
I don't remember the swim entrance for swim 2. Or the swim. Or anything other than the fact that my arms were already pretty damn tired in swim 2, which didn't bode well for swims 3 through 6.
I DID, however, remember to use my buoy for swim 2! I'll take my victories where I can get them. And man, it was so much easier with the buoy in the appropriate crotchular location.
Oh, and this may be the swim where I tried to pee, and realized that, though you might not have suspected as much, the act of peeing involves your tailbone! And if you've bruised your tailbone idiotically jumping off a cliff into a lake and landing poorly the day before your race, it's a bit uncomfortable to try to pee while swimming! Was wondering if this would get a mention. Amy broke her butt. Team Shitshow!
I also don't remember this swim exit. Let's just enjoy this brief and basically useless section of my race report for its use of the word "crotchular". I’m taking this opportunity to allow you to omit endless detail. I’m certain it’s the first time it’s ever happened. Imma blame the pandemic.
Run 3
Run 3! I remember run 3, because it was supposed to be 2.1 miles and.. it wasn't.
Things started off well. We presumably exited the water (maybe this was the really deep mud exit? Or was that an entrance? Man, I don't even know anymore), and started to run. This was where you had to take the shoe off and clean the foot. Non important stuff, but now ya know. And this was our first real Texas trails sort of run. I've run out in Pace Bend several times, and it was all the things that PB offers. Rocks and ledges and dirt and cactuses (I stand by this) and more rocks. Not particularly technical, but not just a dirt road either. It was fun. We were having fun. Trista declared that this was her favorite trail so far. It totally was! It was never straight or flat, but not so hilly or technical that it wasn’t runnable. It had good flow and we were flowing. We even passed a few people during this run! Is this foreshadowing? I hope so.
At some point I think I fell a few steps behind Trista, and once she realized it, she swapped so that I could lead at my pace rather than trying to push to hers. After trying to miss a few turns, I started really extra watching for the blazes that marked the course, so as not to get lost. Which makes it extra ironic that this is where we stopped seeing blazes.
These markers are also called Confidence Markers, (didn’t we deem these “competence markers” instead? We are so incompetent) because they don't mean you're supposed to turn or anything, they just mean "Hey, you're going the right way! Good job!" Keep it up!" Except they don't say any of that when you don't see any.
We kept running for a bit once we realized we hadn't seen one in a while, because they'd specifically said that if there was a section with no turns, they might not mark as often, because .. there was nowhere else to go, so why waste the markers?
After a longer bit, we started to get paranoid, so we ran back up the trail a bit to see if we could find a marker we'd missed. And pretty quickly, we saw another team behind us. And logically we thought, "Okay, there's another team! We're going the right way! Surely TWO TEAMS CAN'T HAVE GONE THE WRONG WAY!" So we turned back and kept going. I specifically said here, “That’s a different team than we just passed. Surely if that team we passed saw us going the wrong way they would’ve said something right?” Because y’all….that’s what swimrunners do. We help each other out. I’m certainly not BLAMING them for not catching our mistake but...ya know. Whatever. I quickly dismissed it and said to Amy “maybe they saw us go the wrong way, yelled at us but we couldn’t hear”.
And kept going. And going. And there were no confidence markers. And then there was a giant rocky hill. But we were so committed to this course of action at this point. We started up that hill, and about 3/4 of the way up, someone whistled at us. Like, one of those people who knows how to whistle really, really loudly. We turned around and there were two teams fairly far behind us, and they yelled that they were pretty sure this was very wrong, and they were turning around. I need to learn to whistle like that. So helpful.
Okay. But maybe if we run up the hill a LITTLE BIT MORE, we'll find a confidence marker!
We did not.
Finally we admitted defeat, turned around, and ran back to ultimately catch up to the two other teams who were terribly lost and off course.
If I had been by myself, I would have just kept running back the path we'd come in on until I found the turn I'd missed or, failing that, got even more lost and ultimately eaten by bears. (Unlikely, but you never know. Armadillos, maybe) Because I hadn't even NOTICED that we were running parallel to a road. A road built by humans (not bears) that might lead us somewhere where people could tell us where we were, and how to get somewhere we SHOULD be.
A part of me was yelling at myself that this was not the course, and maybe we were cutting off distance, and we'd have to explain to the race directors about how we'd cut the course when we accidentally finished in first place ahead of every other team. Except then my watch beeped at me that we'd hit mile 3. Of this 2.1 mile run segment. So yeah, we were fine. We were definitely not cutting any distance off the course.
I had NO idea where we were or where we should go (despite having looked at the map before the race repeatedly, having driven down this very road repeatedly, and having walked or driven various parts of the course repeatedly), but fortunately one of the teams we were lost with was Team Sexy (TS), the team who had been in front of us in the start chute, and one of them knew where we were and where we needed to be! So we kept running down the road, complaining about how much we hated running on the road, and heading for a left turn leading to a boat dock leading to the lake.
Just before we got to the road TS said we should turn on, a park ranger truck drove by us on the road. Everyone got all excited and started waving their arms and yelling and trying to flag him down. He stopped, and we all ran up to the rolled down window of his truck, and we yelled, "We don't know where we're going! Where do we go?! We're doing the race, and we got lost! Where is the boat dock?!"
And he looked very unimpressed at our whole existence/spectacle, pointed like 5 feet down the road at the turn TS had already said to take, and basically drove on.
Okay, then.
Once we got to that turn, there were VOLUNTEERS! For the race! Who were not bears and did not attempt to murder/eat us! They even told us where the aid station was, so that we could go get water, if we wanted, because the next swim was long, and we hadn't had water in quite some time. But they ALSO told us where the boat ramp was, to start the next swim, and the aid station was the opposite direction, and we just wanted to get back on course. So.. down the boat dock and into the water we went! I was resolved to not make one more step in the direction of NOT the course.
Steep boat ramp down to the water, a relatively efficient transition as far as I can remember (in that I can't remember anything appalling that happened, so.. must have been okay!), and then another swim!
Swim 3
I'm fairly sure I did 6 swims during this race, but here's yet another swim I remember NOTHING about. I hope Trista has some memories, or this race report threatens to be so short! (Just kidding. CLEARLY.) Gah, the pressure to REMEMBER! Pretty sure this swim was a bit choppy and maybe against the wind. I mean, not terribly but compared to how calm the first two swims had been. Aside from the final swim, it was my favorite swim. Felt a bit technical, which is always fun. And the cliffs were so close and nice to look at.
Run 4
Okay, I DO remember this part! (Technically I had to ask Marcus which swim exit this was, so I remember the exit, just not when it was.)
This was one of the two more technical swim exits. Instead of coming out onto a muddy beach or a boat ramp, we swam up to some rocks and had to scramble out. THIS is the stuff we love. The stuff that really drives home the "SwimRun isn't just triathlon without the bike" point. There are NO RED CARPET exits, people. And it’s magical.
We had actually parked on the side of the main park road the previous afternoon and walked down this rocky technical dirt path down to the water, just to scope it out. When we did that, Trista and I were both wearing Oofos (soft rubber shoes with zero traction and no real straps to hold them on your feet) and Lee was wearing flipflops. It was a bit challenging in improper footwear, but I figured "This will be much easier tomorrow while wearing trail shoes!"
As I was sliding backward down the trail, grabbing for the only thing I might arrest my fall with, which was a hank of grass, which did NOT arrest my fall, I was thinking, "Or maybe nooootttt!"
Fortunately I didn't fall far, and the second I started falling, I started yelling out, "I'm fine! I'm fine!" even though the jury was CLEARLY out on that matter until I actually STOPPED falling. It was a beautiful slow-mo graceful backwards fall. But once I got back on my feet and made sure all my limbs were still accounted for (check, just some red scrapes on my forearm, and a lot of promised future bruising, including on my butt, fortunately not the already-bruised tailbone), I started my scramble back up the hillside, this time much more successfully and without further incident. Other than my back now being covered in mud. I have a laughing-when-people-fall problem. It’s bad. It’s uncontrollable. I am so sorry Amy.
NOT triathlon without the bike.
We waved at our favorite creepy RV down the side trail, then started run 4 in earnest! Not my adorable Airstream. Some other RV. Just clearing that up.
This was supposed to be the longest run of the day at just over 3 miles, but that was a lot less intimidating now that we'd already accidentally done a 3 mile run. We were pretty thirsty (oops, shouldna skipped that aid station!) and there didn't seem to be water until the out and back, so when we had to cross the park road, and there was a medical volunteer making sure we were able to cross safely who had a giant jug of water on his car, Trista pointed and was like "Hey, could we please have some of that?" Trista was not yet ready to open the emergency-only soft flask of water in her kangaroo top. Apparently.
I'm in charge of writing race reports and falling over randomly. Trista is in charge of public relations, which includes obtaining water and sometimes swim caps from volunteers at road crossings who probably aren't supposed to give those things away. But who can resist Trista? She's adorkable. Or bitchy. You decide.
This section was more stereotypical Texas trail. It also featured a single track trail which was an out and back, which .. wasn't my favorite during a pandemic, but everyone tried to give as much distance as possible.
We got water at the turnaround of the out and back, which was uneventful other than I would be remiss if I did not mention that most swimruns are cupless. You have a collapsible cup which you carry with you somewhere through the race. Trista and I store ours tucked just up in the leg of our wetsuit. Which means each time you use the cup, it tastes more and more of sweat, neoprene, mud, and Lake Travis (body glide, and urine. Is that TMI? Oh wait….you’re the one who talked about my road side poop at Casco, so no….#1 is not TMI). None of these are delicious. But it is the Taste of SwimRun. Refreshing.
Oh, I would also be remiss if I did not mention that as we ran out on the out and back, a female team was running back. As they passed us, they yelled, "You missed a turn!" Ahem. It was AND I QUOTE: “You went the wrong way!” I remember this because I repeated it over and over to Amy because I couldn’t believe they actually said it to us.
....
REALLY?! If you were close enough to see us miss the turn, maybe the proper time to yell at us about it would have been BEFORE WE KEPT GOING?!
So that became a running joke and potential tshirt fodder for the Team ShitShow shirts we'll never make. Let’s be clear. I am not blaming them that we were not “heads up” racing. And I hold no ill will. At all. We went back after the race to scope the place we missed the turn and it was a bit tricky but had we been paying attention at all, we wouldn’t have missed the flags. It was probably when we were deep in conversation, catching up on things since the last time we raced together which was way back in February….we had a lot of catching up to do! Flags schmags.
Other than that, maybe this was the run where we both needed to tie our shoes, so we stepped off the trail and tied our shoes while 3 other teams passed us? I dunno. That happened during some run.
Trista also declared that this was her favorite trail so far. I had a lot of favorite trails
Presumably some other stuff happened, and somehow we got back to the lake, and then we started another swim!
Swim 4
Shortest swim in the race at around 500 yards! All I know is we turned left once we got in the water and followed the shore that way! And I only remember that because my Garmin shows me on the map from my workout!
Surely something happened during these swims, right? You’re being funny, right? I’ll wait this one out….
Actually I can tell you that each swim, my shoulders got more and more fatigued and it became harder to hang with Trista. Maybe next time I'll train my wetsuit so my shoulders get used to that, rather than just wearing it for the first time on race day. Maybe not. Stay tuned. Nah, we can’t be less shitshowier.
Run 5
I DO remember this swim exit! This was the other technical swim exit that we had visited the day before.
Photo by The Aperture Adventures
Even just getting out of the water was challenging, trying to find rocks to stand on in order to hoist the rest of your body out. As I was still in the water trying to unhook the tether so that Trista could climb out without dragging me with her, Trista was excitedly going on about something. I was pretty busy, so I was just barely paying attention, but she said something about how exciting this swim exit was, with people fishing and a tightrope walker and all of that. Sure, whatever, Trista. You didn’t notice the circus around us. This tells me that you trust my swim lead so much Love you, partner.
I eventually got myself onto the rocks and started making my way up the tall rock shelves that are designed for people with gazelle legs (Trista) and not people with corgi legs (Amy).
This guy has gazelle legs. These step-ups were muuuuch harder for us corgis.
Photo by The Aperture Adventures
As I was trying to choose the best line through the rocks to get up (while also trying to get my goggles off my eyes so I could SEE the rocks, which was difficult with paddles still on my hands (#teamshitshow)), I happened to glance behind me and.. there was indeed a woman on a tightrope. Or a slackline, maybe. I'm not sure what the difference is. But she was way up there, walking across a line stretched across the water. And as we watched, she slipped and did a flip in her safety harness as she fell toward the water, then bounced and stopped. I assume she got back up there, or to one of the sides, somehow. But if we'd kept watching, we never would have finished the race, so we dragged our eyes away and dragged ourselves up the rest of that hill. Thanks for the improbable entertainment, acrobat lady. This was happening the entire swim in. I’ve never sighted so much! Also, a guy fishing off to the left, hopefully far enough away not to hook me. Also other teams scrambling up the rocks, photographers going up and down. It was A LOT to take in. I love swimrun!
This was the shortest run at 0.5 miles, but this section will still be annoyingly long! Because as we were running on the trail next to the road, I realized that we had driven down that road the day before and looked at this very trail. It was rare that we knew where we were, but we briefly did here. Which meant this was the CLIFF JUMP run! You didn’t mention all the dogs we saw along this run? Wow, Amy...maybe you should get a covid test.
Trista has probably already noted 12 times in this race report things like "ARE YOU REALLY NOT GONNA MENTION THE CLIFF JUMP?!", and I HAVE mentioned it in passing.
But there was a cliff jump in this race. Sheesh, finally! I was wondering. Knew you’d get to it, but took you long enough.
When we first heard about the cliff jump, we were totally on board. Hell yes, cliff jump! Always cliff jump! Absolutely! No way we aren’t jumping.
A few days before the race, RD and pro photographer Aaron sent out a message asking if anyone wanted to do a mini photo session the day before the race. Trista signed us up (then told me about it). We were probably able to ask for photos of whatever we wanted, but the clear choice, given the venue, was photos of cliff jumping. Which is what we decided to do. I was really hoping those amazing photos would arrive in time to include them here. We’ll just have to overshare them when they eventually make it.
So, as one does, we spent an hour the day before our race jumping off a 20 foot cliff into the water. Flailing limbs out for dramatic effort. Losing our goggles when we hit the water (or not, and just thinking we had because we're kinda dim, but hey, there they were, still on our face!). Accidentally landing in a buttflop and being unable to sit comfortably for the next 96 hours because we presumably bruised our tailbone, which, who even knew that was a thing? But google reassures me I'm definitely not the only one.
It was so fun. It was terrifying. It was amazing. And it was EXHAUSTING.
The good news is, we completely got our fill of cliff jumping that morning, and felt no real urge to do it during the race. Especially since your other choice, if you did not jump off the cliff, was to run along the rocks. Which was MUCH faster, as proven by how many swimmers we passed as we ran down the rocks.
Because we're totally gonna win, so this was very important. Obvs
It was also a pretty big group of people standing on the cliff edge, I assume volunteers, medics, and people waiting to jump. I believe Trista referred to it as a "covid cluster". Just as happy to avoid that whole mess.
So we ran down the rocks as the cliff got shorter and shorter, and finally it was just a short hop into the water, which we did untethered since it was unknown depth and footing. Once we'd both hopped in, we linked back up and started swim 5.
Swim 5
Look, I finally remembered a thing that happened in ONE of the swims. Was it swim 5? I haven't a clue. But since I have to fill this section somehow, we'll just say it happened here. I’ll go along with that.
We were swimming along, as one does, and I glanced up just to see what things were like. Mostly I don't sight while drafting off Trista, but sometimes I like to get an idea of where we are, if we can see any flags, who's around us, etc.
This time I looked up and there was a kayak in front of us and a jetski zooming toward the kayak from the right. That's.. Unusual. He was zooming FAST, which is always unnerving to see during a swim, for a number of reasons.
I couldn't tell what was going on, but there was also at least one swimmer there. Trista was still swimming, so I put my head back down, and the next time I looked up, the jetski was zooming back off into the middle of the lake, and the kayak seemed to be making a concerted effort to get in our way. I mean, I know he wasn't really, but Trista was trying to go to his left to go around him, and he was continually drifting ever lefter, making it impossible for her to get around. Finally she cut hard left and got around the kayak. And if I'm recalling correctly (unlikely), there was then another swimmer who we immediately got tangled with (not literally, just he kept swimming into us). You are 100
At that point Trista hooked an even harder left and just swam into the shore. She was clearly DONE with this WHOLE SWIM and ALL THIS NONSENSE, and the swim exit flag was just ahead, so she decided to declare this swim done and run the rest of the day to the swim exit. That’s what you get to do when you lead the swim. I’m a decision making machine.
And there's my only real swim memory for the whole race! Swimmemory. Swimory.
Run 6
Next to last run! Almost done! Purported by the map to be 2.4 miles, but somehow was our third 3+ mile run for the day! #teamshitshow
I was pretty done, y'all. Not gonna lie. It's not that I didn't train. I had the running miles under my belt, but they were all road running miles. I'd done one 5 mile trail run since March, basically. The trails in Austin are just so overcrowded right now, and it's so much easier to feel safer and distanced on the roads at 5am. And Trista wasn't pacing us super aggressively, but she was running a lot more comfortably, because she HAS been running trails. And it was hot. It was in the 70s at this point, and full sun. At some point the weather had been overcast and not terrible, and Trista was like, "I probably shouldn't say this, but the weather isn't too terrible." She definitely shouldn't have said that. Yeah, my bad.
Anyway, I was struggling. Trista was very kindly slowing down to accommodate my needs, and I was trying not to apologize every 4 seconds for making us run so slowly. Let me just say...Amy struggles way better than I do. When I’m not feeling well shit goes sideways QUICK. This is the beauty of having a partner whose strengths differ from yours. We typically hit highs and low at different times, but it’s pretty rare that Amy has low lows. She allows me to suffer. She knows when I get quiet that I’m starting to fade. And she normally lets me have my moment, and then slaps me out of it and we carry on with the race like nothing happened. We aren’t that team fighting for a podium spot that yells at each other to get going. We just allow each other to “be”. So yeah, I noticed that she wasn’t doing all that great but I didn’t care. I slowed a little so that we could both enjoy the race. Red-lining has its place, and this wasn’t it. Well, that’s never really it for us. That only happens in training ;)
Fortunately Trista had stories, and she very kindly kept up a constant stream of entertainment so I could just trudge along behind her and sweat and pant and curse my thick wetsuit. (And no, I didn't pull it down to my waist, because this run was only supposed to be 2.4 miles!) In fact, neither of us cabbed down at all this race. I unzipped at times but it was mainly to get nutrition. The Ark Utö was not a bad choice, even given the heat. I didn’t feel awful at any time.
Also this was Trista's favorite trail. Thanks for putting up with me.
Near the end of this run, the course goes basically right through the finish line area. Which is very cruel. Especially knowing we still had a mile swim ahead of us, the longest swim of the day. But we put on smiles and jazzhands for the people cheering (and the people who had raced and been done for hours already), and headed toward the water. These people were already showered, fed, and probably some already on flights home.
As we ran through the park, it looked like we were supposed to run to a sort of floating boat dock. There was a woman standing near it yelling something. She yelled. Trista said "We don't know what you're saying!" She yelled again. Trista yelled "We can't understand you!" I mean, we were far away, and I think she was initially wearing a mask. And pretty sure my partner was talking to me, so that I couldn’t hear anything else around me :)
As we got up right next to her, we realized she had a heavy Australian accent, and THAT'S why we were having trouble! Huh. That’s funny. I heard a British accent. Interesting. And now I”m wondering why we kept saying to each other “mind the gap” Plus the mask and being far away. And what she was saying was to go down the stairs, and then be careful when we got to the metal stairs because they were kind of dodgy. I told her she could yell stuff at us in her amazing accent all day. Especially if they involved the word "dodgy".
We carefully made our way down steps, stone and metal, and then a little leap onto the floating dock. We looked out into the water to see which way we were going, and there were a couple people swimming close to the shore at the cove outlet, and then one guy waaaaay out past the cove near the middle of the lake. We turned to each other and said, "Where is HE going?!"
There were two awesome kids volunteering on the dock, and as we got there, they said, "You can jump off anywhere you like! Swim to the right! Hug the shore! Don't be that guy!" Those kids were awesome. Pretty sure I signed them up to do the race next year.
It wasn't any sort of 20 foot cliff jump, but it was a hop into the water, so we chose our entry point and stood at the edge. I wasn't planning on tethering, just as we hadn't for our last hop in entry, but Trista was like "Oh, c'moooooooooooon!" So we tethered up and amused ourselves with a "Okay, on 3, ready, set, go!" and jumped in together. We managed to keep all our shit together, no yard sales, and we swam off for our last swim, not being that guy!
Swim 6
Last swim! The cold water felt AMAZING after being so hot on the run. Was it colder or did it just feel that way? Regardless, it was appreciated. I was a little intimidated by this swim being so long at the end, and me being so tired, but I figured worst case scenario, I'd just lay on my back and Trista could drag me. Never got that bad, though. The tether was pulled taut a couple times, but mostly I managed to stick with her.
I felt pretty bad for some of the people we passed, though. A mile in cold water is a big ask in general, but at the end of a race, and especially for people who don't love swimming in the first place, it's gotta be pretty exhausting. And I felt even worse for those who weren't super strong swimmers, AND were racing solo. Having a partner out there with you during the swim is so much easier mentally. And physically!
The swim seemed to go by much faster than I would have figured, which turns out to be because the swim was shortened (1000 yards instead of ~1500 yards).
And with a pretty easy swim exit, we were off for our last run to the finish line! Which was sad, because that meant the race was almost over, but also happy, because that meant the race was almost over. Always bitter sweet.
Run 7
This was another section we had driven part of the day before, so we knew it went through a defunct-looking GirlScout camp. Actually the very camp where I camped with my Brownie troupe when we went out there for the Dad'n'Me Camporee.. long, long ago. The same canvas-sided tents that did nothing to stop everyone from hearing how loud my dad and Mr. Crowley snored. The same terrible, terrible cots. I mean, I think literally the same ones. Focus, Amy!
Okay, last run! It’s time to DROP THE HAMMER. Right? Finish the race strong? The last run was just over a mile, and I guess if you're the kind of person who's going to win a race, you sprint the last mile?
As we started running, ever-so-slowly, we were like, "Is this it? Is this us dropping the hammer? Yep. This is it." Our hammer-dropping is not very impressive. I mean, why drop it before you get within visual range of the finish line?! And there were ponytails to be fixed.
This was NOT Trista's favorite trail. It was kinda terrible gravel, so it was neither easy nor technical, just annoying.
As we trudged along, Trista said, "That was the last swim, right? Well, then, all of THIS is coming off," and she took off her swimcap and goggles. I did the same, and as I did, I looked at her and said, "Oh, I didn't realize your hair was down under there. I thought you had it tied back." And Trista said, "Oh, should I tie it back for the finish?!" and immediately started walking in order to pull her hair back. Because we are VERY SERIOUS ATHLETES, whose priorities are TOTALLY IN ORDER. It's all about looking good at the finish line.
Maybe we have a different definition of dropping the hammer. Our definition is way more fun.
We were only about half a mile into our just-over-a-mile last run when we somehow ended up at the finish line. Turns out this run had been shortened, too. I didn't know that at the time, but I was NOT going to argue if they told me I was done!
Trista and I joined hands and crossed the finish line of our 6th swimrun as Team Adorkable. (You're gonna say it's 7th, Trista, but I just counted, it was 6.) Oh damn, you’re right. 6th as Team Adorkable.
4:29:33 chiptime, 6th place long course female team, 21st of 64 total long course teams, 3 GUs eaten for a total of 300 calories consumed for the ~1500-2500 (our Garmins had very different estimates) burned.
After
The most important thing you need to know about the aftermath of the race is that we have FANS! Haha. I am surprised this wasn’t the opener. Michelle and Sonja of team Chitterybugs evidently read our Lake James race report from 2018 and were so inspired by our words and athletic prowess (only part of that is true) that they signed up for their first swimrun! I mean, maybe that wasn’t exactly what they said, but they had read our race report and liked it, which is super exciting for us! I often feel like I’m blogging for myself and my parents (who are legally required to read my race reports, and be proud of me), and so to know that people are reading and enjoying my words is truly special for me. (Shout out to Amber, the first person and only other stranger who told me they blogstalked me (as she passed me during a race)!) It was so great to meet you guys, M&S, and we love that you loved it, and hope to see you out at many more races! So nice meeting you girls. Can’t wait to see you at Lake James. Where it all began
So many thanks to Odyssey for putting on a safe race. To all the volunteers for being out there to help us out. To Aaron and Lars and Lars’ whole family. Don’t forget John who we cursed and praised for helping make such an awesome course. To all the other racers and spectators who offered us encouragement and advice and congratulations (especially Team Sexy!). To the Low Tide Boyz for their sense of humor and their super comfy shirts (like fine Egyptian cotton or something, my new favorite shirt, for sure!). To Marcus and Lee for slumming with us back-of-the-packers after winning their race. To dogs, who are just the best, unrelated to this race in any way, really. And to my husband Matt, speaking of dogs, for taking care of ours while I was off bruising my tailbone and falling down ravines.
I'm glad we did it. It felt good to feel a little bit normal for 24 hours. I won't say I necessarily felt Safe. It was outside my comfort zone. I feel okay about the trail races that I have coming up, because I won't have a partner I'm required to be near(ouch), social distancing will be easier, I'll have far fewer social obligations, and masks will be much easier to deal with. I won't have to make another decision about my swimrun comfort until Lake James 2021, which isn't until April. Who knows what the state of the world will be by then.
In the meantime, I got tested again, negative again, and now I will crawl back into my safe and comfortable pandemic-hole with Matt and the dogs and a lot of curbside pickup. I’m proud of you for going so far outside your comfort zone. I know it was hard. I’m happy we did this.
But I loved getting to see Trista again. It was a great weekend. And my butt is feeling much better now, thank you for asking.
It's true, I discovered SwimRun and read the Adorkable Blog about SwimRun Lake James. I was immediately sold! The fun, adventure, team work, and humor they shared was contagious. Thanks ladies, you're ambassadors for this sport, these sports, this event?? I'm so glad we finally met.
ReplyDelete-You guys were training for Rockman...wow!!! I hope 2021 sees you in Norway.
-That is the cutest little airstream I've ever seen. Seems appropriate for Adorkable lodging.
-I've always wondered how to use crotchular in a sentence, thanks Amy!
-We are inspired by BOTH your words and athletic prowess!!
-Your cowritten blog is SO funny, yet oddly informative!!
Thanks again ladies, you really are adorkable. We hope to see you at Lake James, and let's hope we're not still pandemic-ing!
Michelle from Team Chitterybugs
I second Michelle's comments!! So great to meet both of you, as fun and inspiring in person as you both are in writing... hope to see you again in 2021!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteSonja (FAN#2)
Wahoo! Awesome!! Congratulations!!! Hahaha, "Dodgy" :)
ReplyDelete