Reflections on 5K: The 2014 Bali Ocean Swim

I am definitely one of those people who works out because I enjoy it. It's all about the endorphins- no need for Prozac when I keep up my workout schedule. Participating in events in exotic locales definitely ups the enjoyment and motivation factors for me. Since we moved to Thailand I had been thinking that I wanted to participate in an ocean swim. I did some research and found a lot of opportunities, most not surprisingly in Australia. We've already been to Oz a few times and while it has beautiful beaches and I would certainly love a good excuse to return, it's a particularly expensive vacation destination. Then I came across the website for the Bali Ocean Swim. Bali was on our list of desired vacation destinations: no turning back, I knew I had to do it!

Heinz and I started discussing the swim last summer, fitting it into our family travel plans and I was getting more and more excited about it as the trip started to become a reality. From a training standpoint I have been feeling stronger these last 12 months than at any point in my past. I never knew I could lift such heavy things! Having participated in a 5k swim 6 years ago, I knew I could handle the distance. But that was my 30's. What will my mid 40's bring, I wondered? The good news is that with the HomeSwimmer "Swimmer's Treadmill" that I purchased while in the States last summer, I was better equipped to train for open water swimming than the last time I swam this distance, no longer constrained by the need to stop and turn every 25 meters. Maybe I could beat my old time? The bad news was that weeks of back problems starting about 3 months before the event kept me out of the gym and left me feeling like I was losing strength daily. (Sad the mental pain we inflict on ourselves, isn't it?) And, I must admit, I had not been as diligent about sticking to the in-the-pool training schedule I had devised for myself. I arrived in Bali feeling very undertrained and ill-prepared. I decided to approach it this way: as a test to determine the strength of my base fitness level. Can I swim a 5k without actually training for it? Sunday was coming, ready or not.

While the family was ensconced in the beauty of Canggu, Mommy escaped to noisy, bustling, touristy Kuta for 2 nights to check out the race site in advance and get my game face on without distractions. Saturday I had an opportunity to "walk the course". The day was grey and windy and the sea looked angry and ominous, making me feel even less up-to-the-task.

Seriously, who's dumb idea was this anyway? So I distracted myself with some sightseeing and found some interesting things like this gorgeous entry gate in the sea wall around Kuta Beach.

Mostly I hung out in the hotel room, reading and trying not to dwell on the feelings of inadequacy that were starting to creep in!

But the day arrives, regardless, doesn't it? "Sunday July 6, 2014 saw the running of the 5th Bali Ocean Swim at the Bali Garden Hotel on Kuta Beach. The Bali Ocean Swim is a major fundraising event run by Bali Sports Foundation with monies raised from entries being used to run Swim and Water Safety Programs around Bali." (www.balioceanswim.com) The field was pretty small, 39 swimmers for the 1.2km, 22 to swim the 5km and 20 for the 10km (the true crazies!).
The crazies get ready to hit the water-waiting for the 9:00 start for the 10km event.

With a 9:30 start projected for the 5km group, we all gathered on the sand, waiting for the organizers to count us down. Taken from Balioceanswim.com: "Balawista Surf Lifesaving set the course after consideration of the currents that can be so treacherous along this part of the coastline (very glad I didn't read that before taking the dive!) Race organizers left the final course preparations up to the professionals who patrol the beach as they know this particular stretch of ocean better than anyone and were responsible for the safety of the swimmers throughout the morning....To maintain the genuine Bali feel for the event traditional fishing boats, called Jukungs, were used as the markers along the course and as drink and food stations for the swimmers in the longer events...Only 2 swimmers failed to finish their event which was remarkable considering the currents and winds were quite strong on the day."
Three Jukungs were used to mark the start, middle and turning point of the course. Here is a stock photo of one as I did not get my own close-up:

Now generally I like to think that I like open water swimming. Moving forward without having to stop and flip every 18 strokes or so is so liberating. And training with my awesome HomeSwimmer I can now do 1000 or so strokes at a time (maybe 1200m?) without needing to stop. So this could have been a piece of cake. Right? Just get in and swim. The gun goes off and we hit the surf running until it's deep enough to swim and we take that first dive: dark, murky water and no black line below me and about 24 inches of visibility! The rough surf keeps the sand constantly churned up in the water, making it sand soup. And this is where I discover the sad truth, again, that I'm really a primadonna pool swimmer at heart who can't decide which freaks me out more in the open water: seeing what is swimming with me or not seeing what is swimming with me. My friend Angela said "I'd be afraid of sharks!" I'm lying if I try to say I wasn't thinking of it! It is pretty typical for me to spend the first 10 minutes or so of an open water swim just getting my heartbeat back in check, trying not to hyperventilate, unfortunately due to fear adrenaline, not race-day excitement! Trying not to doubt myself from the very start, I focused on channeling my inner Dory: just keep swimming, just keep swimming! Just put your silly face in that deep, dark water and just keep swimming!

I was absolutely not going to let myself wimp out over that so instead I tried to focus on what I quickly discovered to be my next set of problems: sighting. A good rule of thumb in any sport is "don't make major changes to equipment right before an event". Following this rule I stuck with my good old race goggles for a few reasons, not least of which being I could not find anything better to buy here in Thailand. In their defense, I knew I could wear them comfortably for the 2 hours and I could rely on them to be like sunglasses because doesn't one always expect the sun to shine in Bali? Finally getting past panic mode and starting to swim for real it became clear to me that there was no sun and everything was the same dull grey color: the water, the shoreline, the sky, the clouds; my dark blue "sunglasses" goggles were washing everything out that much more. There was nothing on the shoreline beyond the Jukung marking the turn-around that was big enough to focus on and the Jukung itself was so small (over a mile away!) as to be nearly invisible. The mid-way Jukung was not much better and the inflatable yellow float in between might well have not even been there, it was so hard to see. It was very disorienting. Panic started to creep back in. What if I swam horribly off course because I couldn't tell left from right? Would they notice if I swam straight out to sea? It seemed that I was stopping every 50 or so strokes, not just to lift my head and check my course, but coming to a complete stop, treading water to get my bearings, lifting my goggles to see it all in true monochrome. I felt like I was swimming in place. It was so disheartening. Dory, come back to me! I need you! 

I dug deep and "just kept swimming" and eventually I realized that within each of those seemingly pathetic stretches of 50 or so strokes, I was seeing at least one other swimmer, or one of the Balawista Lifeguards on a kayak. I had felt completely alone but truly I was not. I started to calm down and started to swim longer and longer stretches before needing to stop and get my bearings again. I was probably about a kilometer and a half in and the salt water was killing my sinuses and throat already, but for the first time that day I put aside my panic and my doubts and felt confident that yes, I COULD do this. And I realized that when I put the panic away and focused on the swimming, I wasn't feeling tired. The sun broke through the clouds and eventually I reached the turn-around point. 

On July 19, 2008, I swam a 5km loop on the Morse Reservoir in Noblesville, Indiana in 1:42.16. This was my only yardstick. But the latte-colored water of the reservoir 6 years ago was calm, with no swell, no current. In preparing for this swim, part of my mental exercise focused on accepting the fact that with the swells and the currents, this swim would not be like the first and I was probably setting myself up for disappointment to try and match or beat my time. So I reached the halfway point Jukung, had a bottle of water and took a look down to the finish line. Beautiful: just beyond the finish flags was a big white building, shining in the sun. No way to miss it. Sighting on the way back would be child's play. Then I checked my watch and was surprised to see that I had made it, even with all the feelings that I was swimming in place, in just under 52 minutes. Could I still be in reach of that 1:42?

This was the homestretch. This was the easy part and I was ready for it. I rinsed my mouth one last time, put on my "sunglasses" goggles and seriously got down to the business of swimming. I swam hundreds of strokes at a stretch, (counting strokes is one of the ways that I relieve the crushing boredom of distance swims), sighting the finish line comfortably mid-stroke as I went to keep myself on course. About 2/3 of the way back I realized I had a shadow, my own Balawista on a kayak sticking with me, about 20 feet of to starboard, giving me a thumbs-up and offering me another bottle of water. I gratefully accepted and powered on. I felt really good. I rounded the seaward side of the last Jukung and headed into the shore, to be passed in the last 100 meters by one of the 10km swimmers! Oh well, they are definitely an elite bunch! It was just good to be done and out of the salt water! And my beautiful family met me at the finish line!

In the end the current and the swell were most difficult on the return leg. My 52:00 outbound trip turned into an almost hour-long return, with a final time of 1:49.40, securing second place in the women's over-35 category. Originally it had been announced that I took first place and I was awarded the first place medal but apparently there was a misunderstanding and somehow the true first place winner (she won the 10km in 2012!) had mistakenly been awarded the under-35 medal. I don't know how they've followed it up, how they straightened it out with the true first place under-35 winner. No one has asked to switch medals with me but they do have it all in order in the results on the website. 

In the end the medals are secondary. I was pleased to discover that my base level of fitness IS enough. I felt good at the finish: tired but not wrecked, yet confident that I had swum the best race I could. The things that slowed me down were things that are difficult to train against: the difficult sighting conditions and the irritation from the salt water. I think I will always suffer from a form of claustrophobia when it comes to open water, having to get past that panic of the first few moments in the murky water, missing my thin black line below. I can now say I've done an ocean swim; not sure if I will do another. It would definitely depend on the location. Fiji and Vanuatu have crossed my radar. What do you think, Honey? All you swimmers out there, who wants to join me?