In it for the long run

2020 Charles Bender Memorial Marathon Swim

With so many events canceled in 2020 because of the covid19 pandemic, the Charles Bender Memorial Marathon Swim and relay took place August 28, thanks to the hard work of Race Director John Kenny and an amazing team of volunteers, including my wonderful kayaker, Matt Bender, Charles’s son—and I think his dad would be proud of him. 

Despite getting a slow swimmer, he showed grace and patience, as he guided me through the course, including a tricky channel with some shallow spots, made sure I was adequately fed and hydrated, and saw me through the hours it took for me to finish.

 Yes, I was, happily able to finish this 8-mile swim! Katie Ledecky doesn't have to look nervously over her shoulder to see if I'm gaining on her.  But that said, I feel proud of and grateful for my finish.

I wasn't sure how I'd do with an upstream current on the second half, but conditions were ideal.

When I felt tired, I thought of Jaimie Monahan and her week of swims around Manhattan and of Sarah Thomas and her 4 way English Channel crossing. In fact, I wore the MSF t-shirt honoring her swim, showing the four-way track, as well as “I believed that I could.”

 Those words became a driving force for me, especially when my body began to rebel, my back to hurt, my arms to protest. Something—not sure how to describe it—kept me pressing on. In fact, sometimes I think in water, I become a different, stronger person than on land. It’s not that self-doubts disappear. They don’t. It’s not that I suddenly become superwoman. I don’t. I hurt and sometimes wonder if I can keep on stroking.

 I think it can be summed up in “I believed that I could.” The days preceding the swim, I did wonder how I’d do given having to push against an upstream current to finish and given the fact that covid meant more limited pool use than I had access to last year. Yet I had—what? An intuition? A stubborn hope? A drive to get in one marathon swim in 2020 despite the insanity of this year?

 The swim was studded with wonder.

 I saw a great blue heron lift off out of the water.

 I rode with the current and felt it splashing into my face (fortunately not nearly as fast as I feared).

 I prayed. Repeated mantras. Stronger with each stroke. Stay in the present. And in the last mile when hurting: #justkeepswimmingjustkeepswimming

 During second half, Charles’ brother Greg joined Matt and me. He had been kayaking for someone in the 5k, so having finished that responsibility, he kayaked along beside us to keep us company joining us near the 5k finish.

 “You’re kicking butt!” he announced. I was happy to hear that, yet overall just happy at that point that I was still feeling good—I’d gone by then about a mile upstream. I was pushing the pace a little harder than during the downstream leg, as I wanted to save something for the upstream stretch.

 I enjoyed half-hearing their chat as I swam and being included in it during feeds (which though they needed to be short so I could keep progressing, were welcome interludes).

 When my energy flagged, Greg called out, “Can you see the bridge?” (He was referring to the Rte 422 Bridge that crosses the river a little past the finish. I couldn’t yet, but I took his word for it. Then the two of them told me they could see the orange buoys marking the Catfish Dam (that place we had to negotiate carefully with its shallows). Yet I kept thinking “Why aren’t those buoys getting closer?”

 Well, they were, but slowly. And not swimming wouldn’t bring me any closer so just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming.

 About a half-mile from the finish, having passed Catfish Dam at last, I heard a woman’s voice shout, “Girl, you’ve got this!” Much needed shot of energy.

 Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming.

 I realized shortly afterward that the voice belonged to John Kenny’s girlfriend Christina Cunningham, kayaking with a sunflower in the bow, cheering, and shooting video. (I’d share, but I can’t seem to download from Facebook—so you’re welcome to visit the French Creek Racing page on Facebook, where you’ll find it.)

 Further along, with Matt on my right, I looked to the left, and there was John Kenny kayaking next to me. “You’re almost there,” he told me.

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming. 

I felt teary-eyed by this time, not from pain but from the sheer exhilaration mixed with pain, that yes, I was going to finish this one after a DNF in 2017 (finished it the previous year…. Had begun to wonder if that was a fluke, and while I wasn’t sure how this year would go, I wasn’t about to DNF). I reminded myself—don’t cry yet. You need to keep going.

Then the dock came into view, marking the finish.

Closing in on it, I did a few joyful butterfly strokes. I’m no butterfly star, but I switch to it when I feel the joy of the moment, a way of saying “this swim hasn’t finished me off!” I remember Charles Bender finishing off our 2015 Boston Light relay with some butterfly. I don’t have his technique, but it’s still a fun stroke for a quick burst.

I touched the dock.

My Bender Memorial Marathon Swim 2020 in the books. Other swims canceled/postponed/turned virtual. No Great South Bay Swim, no Swim to the Moon, no Swim the Suck (although GSB and Swim the Suck are free entries next year, and Swim to the Moon became virtual). But the Bender Swim was ON!!

So I wanted very, very much to take part, to have my over the top adventure (although I'm humbled and inspired and motivated by the over the top swims mentioned above).

I was the slowest swimmer to finish. Yet I wasn't concerned w time or place, just wanted to finish.

And thanks to so many, I did. Huge thanks to John Kenny for all that you did to coach, encourage, and keep swimming alive for us, for those practice runs against the current, for nagging me about sighting, breathing on both sides, working on hip rotation, and believing in me.

posted by DPMcManus @ 3:52 PM