Five Races, No Drowning

Time for the annual water slog-fest, aka Cascade Lakes Swim Series, up in the high lakes behind Mt Bachelor. Now I'll see if my long workouts have made a difference.

Friday afternoon: waiting for this meeting to end so I can start driving to the mountains.

It’s around 40 miles to Elk Lake, just below South Sister. Such a pretty drive.

Same foot that was in the meeting...

So here's the deal: enter one race, the Short or Long Series, or all five.

Short Series: 500m, 1000, 1500m
Long Series: 1500m. 3000m, 5000m

 Age group awards for each series as well. Do all five distances, and get a 'Survivor' mug. Most  people pick one or two races; I do all of them, because....me.

Nice crowd:

The right gear helps...

Here's Coach Bob, race organizer, giving pre-race instructions. 

The 3000m is Friday evening. The wind kicks up a bit, making for lots of chop. I swallow lots of water during the race, and take several waves to the face. Makes it hard to breathe!

Saturday morning:
500m...follow a buoy line for 250m, then back. Since I opted for the Long Series, this is a non-scoring event for me. So I go SLOW...I tell everyone behind me at the start that I'll be swimming way off the line so they can pass.

Easy peasy.

Next up, the 1500m. One triangular loop. I warm up well and punch it at the start. Decent time. 

What's the opposite of a traffic signal? What starts with red and stops with green?

                             

Later that day: 

Cracklin'

                          

Best bumper sticker ever: "Visualize Grilled Cheese"

                          

Sunday morning is a bit cooler....

Here's Coach Bob; teaching swimmers for 40+ years.

The steam finally clears...

And it's time for the big boy....5000m. By now, I'm out of the running for a placing in my age group (and the cool event coaster). But I'm swimming better than last year, so it's all good: my favorite coach, after calling me a knucklehead, has taught me to manage expectations.

This morning, I almost talk myself out of the last day's races; I'm tired and unmotivated. Once I move around the house a bit, I perk up and decide to go for it. At least the water is calm.

The 5k is just a long, long slog; my body and head never feel good, but I get it done. Somehow.

An hour of downtime, and it's the final race, the 1000m. Another throwaway race for me, and besides my body is shot. From experience, I know that the first half of the race will be a joke until my arms loosen up. My plan is to go slow until the 600m buoy, then bust it home for my victory lap.

And I do, walking down 5-6 swimmers in the final stretch, including a drag race in the final 100. No, you're NOT finishing ahead of me!

Dave D, you know that Laughing Dog speedo? The one with the dog on the butt? Well, some woman comes up to me after the race and says that drafting  was a lot easier while keeping the dog in her sights!

All done. And all worn out.

Next day, I get the results. 4th in my age group...but wait a second: same scoring total as the guy in third. I must have lost a tie-breaker....I ask the question.

Nope. The organizer overlooked the numbers. Now tied for 3rd. And hard-earned swag....

That's a win. And a wrap.

A Little Swim...

Following that December slice and dice in my lumbar region, I was anxious to do something...

ANYTHING.

The doctor took his dear sweet time releasing me for exercise. And knowing my obsessiveness, his conservative nature was probably a good idea.

I had around 5 months of solid swim workouts with my masters group, and then...

Elk Lake beckoned.

The Cascade Lakes Swim Series. Same nightmare I did in 2012. Any one of five swims, ranging from 500m to 5000m.

Or, if you're me, you do all of 'em. That elusive Survivor mug only goes to those who complete all 11,000 meters.

Friday night, it's the 3k. A little under an hour, and choppy water. Everyone came thru the chute burping the water they swallowed.

One down.

I didn't camp at the lake this year. Three back surgeries make for an awfully tough night's sleep in a tent. So I simply drove the 66 mile round trip for the three sessions.

Saturday morning. So pretty up there....that's 10,000' South Sister, a great climb and better view.

Saturday was the 500m and 1500m races. The shorter one was an out and back course along a line of buoys, see above.

My lunch, after I stopped eating to inhale.

All good so far. I'm even going faster than six years ago; those long slow workouts on the weekends have been helpful.

Sunday morning, and the big boy looms. Five thousand meters is a fairly short run, but it's a bastard long swim. I just want to get thru it.

HOWEVER....

I notice that I'm fourth in my age group standings in cumulative placings. Top three placings win a ceramic coaster with the race logo. And the third place swimmer is a whisker ahead of me.

Groan. That means I have to BUST the 5k, not just survive.

Ugh.

I suppose I could stay warm and dry in my nice pretty parka, but what fun would that be?

I get after it. Normally I wouldn't bother with a warm-up for such a long race, but I had to floor it from the start. So I loosen up for 500m before the gun, and then I hit it.

Never felt great, that's because I was motoring. After one lap, I'm substantially faster than last time. Laps two and three were also good, tough yet smooth. Just punching the clock and grinding it out.

At the finish, I'm eight minutes faster than as a young (47 yr old) buck. Call it a win.

The final race, the 1000m, is a joke. Arms are shot, shoulders are gone. I laugh my way through the first half until I loosen up, then I get mad and walk down four or five swimmers on the homestretch.

Didn't quite squeeze my way into 3rd place. I needed ten minutes on the other guy in the 5k, and got seven. Still....

Once again, I'm a Survivor.

Schwimmflugel? Schadenfreude?

Big weekend.

Elk Lake Swim Series: five races from 500m to 5000m over three days. I did this beast a few years back and had a ball. Now that I'm training for a marathon, my sea legs aren't cooperating, so I'm a volunteer.

Two roles:
Camp Host: be the Shell Answer Man for the hordes in the reserved campground. Act lordly. Punish miscreants.

Safety Spotter: no better way to see the races than from a standup paddleboard.

Setting up camp. I didn't know that a full mattress would fit into a two person tent.

Large square peg in a small round hole, sort of

It actually fits! Barely...

Here's my estate...

 And my trusty steed...

My tent, my trees, my foot...

I left the rain fly off this time, wanting to see the stars. They didn't disappoint.

A record 240 swimmers registered, so the camp ground was very full.

The venue...so pretty and calm.

The 5k swim was the national championship. About half the states were represented.

Did I mention the scenery? That's South Sister, hellacious climb, and also a good view from up there.

I was camped next to some of the same Portland folks from last year. Lots of fun catching up.

Scot had a rather unique injury healing. He did a race a few weeks ago in which he wore a timing chip on his ankle...he has an unconventional kick in which his legs cross each other, and the chip on one leg wore a hole in his other shin!

Scot is around my age, a UOklahoma grad. I asked if he was in Stillwater during the Bozworth years. Oh yeah, he said: Boz would stop at Scot's frat when the beer was flowing.

and my apologies, Scot: I meant to say Norman, not OSU Stillwater. That's like mixing up Pitt and Penn State!

Judging by the buoy supplier, our race organizers are not following the 'Make America Great Again' doctrine.

Wearing the proper US Naval Academy colors, of course.

Back in school, our swimsuits were very unflattering speedo-types that we called 'grape smugglers.' I like my new gear better.

Also rocking my vintage Team RadioShack cycling hat...

Because you never know when you'll have to throw down with the peloton. 

Earlier this morning, I did a hardcore workout with the heavy jump rope. During the 3000m swim in choppy water, my legs reminded me that I'm not 25 anymore.

And after the last swimmer passed me in the 500m race, I quickly grabbed my goggles and did my own 500m before the buoys were pulled. Felt a lot better than I imagined, given that I haven't swam a stroke since January.

Years ago, I read a great book called "Gold in the Water", a chronicle of an elite swim team near Stanford as they trained for the 2000 Olympics. One of the top members was a guy named Kurt Grote, who won a gold medal at the 1996 Games.

He showed up this weekend...

I knew who he was as soon as I heard the name. Kurt was training for the Olympics while a full time med school student!! How is that possible? And he's the nicest guy in the world.

A couple of women in the campsite are serious, serious triathletes. In addition to swimming 11,000m over three days, they used the relative downtime of Saturday afternoon to ride their bikes four hours! (and you thought I was crazy). Afterward, one of them asked if I was a bike mechanic....no, but I play one on tv. Her shifting was all buggered up, so I showed her how to use the barrel adjusters to fix the problem on the fly. She was quite grateful...

Scot (with the leg wound) has unique ideas about camping....

cannolis? Not s'mores?

And he didn't sleep in a tent, preferring instead to commute the 40 miles each way to civilized accommodations in Bend.

The rest of us...

One of the swimmers was an Olympian water polo player, and she was an absolute beast. Consistently top 10 overall in each race, what a motor.

Some vintage shirts for sale at $5 apiece, so I bought a few...

Looks like a backwards Italy...campground was to the far right of the little toe, so I'd ride the paddleboard to the start below the '5000m' at the bottom. 

My absolute favorite...that's Coach Bob with the antlers. He has made lots of deadweight into real swimmers over the years, self included.

There was a very large man competing; guy had to run 300 pounds. Yet he was out there grinding away....during the 5000m swim, he was dead last, but there's no hurry. As he came past me on the final lap, I realize he has clear goggles, and he stares at me as he trudges past. I expect to see the same eyes Captain Quint had when the Jaws shark bit down....I'll spare you the video....

Nope. This guy was just punching the clock. Nice work, my man. He completed all 5 swims and got his Survivor mug.

Ted wins the prize for best post-race hair.

Last year, local world class triathlete Jesse Thomas entered the 5k swim as a training day for the Hawaii Ironman. He had a hard bike/run day yesterday, and told himself he'll do the swim if he woke up on his own. He didn't....so he simply went to the pool and had the water pretty much to himself. Then he brought the fam up to the lake for some play time.

Jesse made aviator sunglasses popular again!

Tiring weekend....and I didn't race at all.

Smile. 

What I do in an 'easy' week...

Big running mileage last week, so I'm taking it easy.

On the legs.

Elk Lake Swim Series. Races at 500m, 1000m, 1500m, 3000m, and 5000m.  Compete in individual events, the 'Short Series' consisting of the short three races, or the 'Long Series' in the farthest three.

Added Bonus; do all five races and earn the coveted 'Survivor' Mug.

Enough incentive. I'm all in. Swim 11,000 meters, or about 7 miles, in three days.

Except I've completed exactly two 2k swims in my life. Now I'm going to do a 3 and a 5 plus three others? In three days?

Typical NBC. OCD on steroids.

On the way out of town in friend Mary's RV, I pop open a quart bottle of warm water while running my mouth and not paying attention. That's when I learn the difference between water and club soda. I was soaked in seconds.

Not much can shut me up that quickly.

Arrival at my accomodations, the Elk Lake Hilton:

First night, 3000m. Choppy surface, windy. Started too fast and never felt comfortable, but got 'er done in a little over an hour. Goal for all races was steady pace, not hard. I want that mug.

Here's the race venue, with South Sister in the background.

Nice, huh?

5am, and about 36 degrees

Next day; run into Don, a fellow track umpire. We're both wearing Olympic Trials (track) gear at a swim meet. Figures: guys can't keep their sports straight.

500m: no wetsuit, so that was one cold warmup. Then 10 minutes waiting in the chilly air for my start time, hence the running in place.

Didn't like this race; I tangled myself in the buoy cord a bunch of times and never got into a rhythm.

90 minutes later, the 1500. This went a little better. Started easy, then jumped a gear at 600m and began dropping people. And I sprinted through the finishing chute again; being a better runner than swimmer, it's a cheap way to pick up a few places here and there.

Trying to get the suit off...

Later that day, I was beat. At least Zoe had fun on the inner tube.

Then I was volunteered to help another friend put up two tents, and then to gather firewood. Really tired, so I ate a big dinner and went to bed before s'mores. Big sacrifice on my part.

Sunday morning and the big boy looms (the 5000m); feeling much better after 7 hrs sleep, though my shoulders are tired. At the race venue, wary of attempting a swim 2.5 times as far as I've ever gone before, I see an experienced swimmer squinting at the far buoy and saying, "Oh my God." Not exactly reassuring to me.

See the cluster of white boats in the distance? The 1000m buoy is the orange speck to the right of it. That's a long, long way.

3 laps; I start very slow, and the whole field goes ahead. I don't care: my goal is to finish in one piece. Just easy spinning in the small ring. I get to the far buoy at 1000m and sneak a peek behind, knowing I'll see no one. Instead, there's at least a dozen people. I'm not last! And I haven't even started.

So it's into the next gear, still not hard, and I keep it smooth. 1st lap done, 2nd lap done, I'm feeling fine. Runner's high? Now I've got the swimmer's high. And I'm starting to smell the finish.

This is where I thought I'd be getting emotional. You know, a big personal best in distance, swimming with the big boys and girls, all that.

Uh uh.

I was LAUGHING out there. Just a grinning, Tarzan-like fool. I even kicked hard for the last 300m, and did a celebratory backstroke across the finish line.

Is it possible that my favorite race would be the longest one?

Final event was the 1000m; this was my slow victory lap. Not that I had a choice; arms were gone. But that still didn't prevent me from walking down one last swimmer in the final 200m.

Game, set, match. 4 podiums in 5 events, including a bigtime 2nd place in the Long Series for my age group, earning the coveted ceramic coaster.

Except for the last race when I was shot, the other four were pretty much on the same pace. I don't have many gears, but I can hold the ones I have.

And that Survivor mug?

All mine, baby. All mine.