An Hour of Peace

Random thoughts ran through my head all day. "Is my will in order?" "Was the last thing I said to Mo meaningful?"

I am so stupid. The moment I hit the water I had zero anxiety, zero thoughts of drowning. It was the first uninterupted hour of mental peace I had found since my anxiety attack last Sunday.

It was the first official over 100 degree day of the year. The water temp was high sixty, low seventy. Perfect weather, perfect day. There were a lot of AzTriClub members out today, more than ever. Out of respect for me, no one wore a wetsuit. To me it felt like a big birthday party. Much like a birthday party a milestone would be observed this day. The ultimate goal was to swim 1,500 meters open water without a wetsuit in preperation for the Tempe International Olympic next weekend.

Andy yells, "Come on Comm, lets get going already." I am not hesitating, there is just so much going on at the stash area. But almost everyone was already treading water 50 meters out so it was time to move.

The moment I took my first stroke I promised myself to do the full 1,500. As I swam to the group, I swam past them, not wanting to stop. "One, Mo, Two, Mo, Three, Mo..." This is my internal stroke count. Mo is the perfect word that Head Doc asks you to think about in his swim meditation. Mo is my power word.

Before I get 100 meters the real training begins. Andy swims by and grabs my goggles, dislodging them. The Machine, yes with boogie board attached by leash, is like a Mako shark, coming at me at from all angles and throwing hands, elbows and legs and then darting away with a swift kick.

Its several minutes before I realize that I have rounded the inlet buoys and closing in on the bridge. I have pretty much swam completely through the worst of my fears without a recognition of it. Except for a punch or kick or hard push from a teammate, I am firing off stroke after stroke after stroke. Slow but steady.

It seems to take forever before I get to the rock buoy, the official turnaround deep in the canyon. I will come by this one more time. There is an actual submerged rock that the buoy is placed next too, and some teammates are sitting on it cheering me on. The trip back out to the inlet buoy is uneventful except for The Machine, Andy and other occasional teammates doing their best to give me their worst. It is at this point that I finally throw my first counter elbow, hitting the Machine in the shoulder hard. The shark swims off to circle.

I make it to the inlet buoys for the second time and head back into the canyon. It feels like I have been out here forever, but I know its only about 30 minutes. I did not start my watch or wear the HRM, I had too many other things I thought I would think about.

On the last pass at the rock buoy, I know I have this nailed. I have had no panic, no fear. I have only free stroked and not once thought of rolling over or trying something different. I am getting a bit tired and my stroke is getting a bit sloppy but its still moving at the same tempo. I reach out and with a closed fist I punch the buoy as hard as I can, rocking it almost flat. I wasn't angry, it was more a declaration. Annoucing my pressence with authority. Hitting the rock buoy was my official movement past swimming 1500 meters in the water, my Olympic distance next week and I still have to get back to the gear.

On the way back out to the lake its the same hitting and kicking from the team. In a really nice move two of them come up and completely sandwich me as hard as they can. Later on, Andy swims right in front of me and then completely stops, forcing me to stop and move around him, trying to force me out of my zone.

It felt good going back out into the widest part of the swim for the third time, the area that held all my fears. That fear was replaced by the realization that training and base building are the preperation needed for when opportunity knocks.

I make it back to the starting rock and everyone is there to congratulate me. I am humbled. Many of these guys spent much more time in the water than normal to draft with me and though they put in their 'official' practice distance, it was at a much lower output. I thanked each of them and we laughed at the bumping and the hitting and my stupid fears.

I ask anyone if they had a calender to track my time. Andy says 1:03. I tell everyone I am happy because that is seven minutes before the cut off for a half ironman. Big John however has the dramatic moment and declares that my time is not accurate because I swam farther than a half ironman distance.

"What? I thought it was almost 1,900 meters to do all that, thats what I have always thought." "No," he say, " The total distance is almost 2,400 meters. You swam a mile and half in 1:03."

Sot that is the breakthrough. The key workout of the year for me, done today. 1.5 miles in an hour and three minutes. More than a half mile farther than my ultimate desire of a perfect day. A hour of peace today, a thousand minutes to worry about something else for Ironman the rest of the year.

Peace.