Crazy Conditions & Battle of Wills

 

Intrepid swimmers, about to brave the San Francisco Bay - the calm before the storm!

I've swum in colder water, I've swum in rougher water, and I've swum longer than today. I've even swum in colder, rougher water for longer on the same swim. Today, however, became my toughest swim in seven years of open water adventure swimming.

California has been pounded with powerful storms packing unprecedented rain and wind. The forecast predicted peak 20-25 mph wind at 7:00 a.m. When I arrived at the South End Rowing Club slightly before 7 a.m., the wind died and the rain stopped. The water appeared glassy with just a touch of swell. We could see rain clouds over the Golden Gate Bridge, 4 miles to our west. With the wind coming out of the south, it seemed like these clouds would push north and not factor into today's swim. When we entered the water thirty minutes later, conditions were pretty much the same - flat rolly swells with not much wind. 

Our planned route passed through Aquatic Park's (AP) opening, where the San Francisco Municipal Pier and Fisherman's Wharf seawall meet, providing access to the San Francisco Bay. I swam to the opening yesterday so I knew the cove would swirl with eddies and erratic currents.

Our group of 8 swimmers plunged into the 53ºF water and headed out to the opening.  We planned a mile out and back swim to the end of the Fisherman's Wharf seawall, better known as the Creakers. We swam into an ebb current and returned with the ebb's assist back into AP. When the current ebbs, it exits San Francisco Bay. Always best to swim first into the current to increase safety making the return easier.

I was the slowest in the group. Everyone waited for me when we regrouped at the opening before turning east into the ebb. The eastward swim into the ebb felt like we had some ebb, and other times had some flood - wonky best describes the whimsical waters. I reached the Creakers within a minute or two of the group. We noticed the clouds had descended, obscuring the Golden Gate bridge to the west. Alcatraz, a mile to our north, barely showed itself through the mist and fog. Consistent with the rest of the swim, conditions remained calm and reasonably flat. 

The return to the opening measures about a quarter mile. During this quarter mile, conditions literally turned the waters upside down. The skies opened dumping sheets of rain, and the northward wind kicked up creating whitecaps, and a powerful headwind that held back my forward progress. When we reached the opening the white caps turned into tight choppy waves. 

I made the left turn into the opening. Two swimmers stayed to my right and the rest of the group led fifty feet in front. I knew it would be a tough return. I checked my watch. We had been in 26 minutes - pretty typical for this swim. I wasn't cold and my head remained clear. As a precaution, I always bring a chocolate Clif Shot energy gel in case I'm not feeling great or need a boost. I didn't think I would need it today.

I put my head in the water and began swimming. With each breath, I swallowed water. My heart raced, and I focused on staying calm with regular breathing. It didn't matter which side I breathed, I kept gulping water. I had a quarter mile left to swim to the beach - typically 8-10 minutes in these conditions. I've swum in rough waters like these - I like them. It's a washing machine-like experience where swimmers get tossed around. For those of us who like adventure swimming, this is what it's all about. 

As much as I tried, I couldn't slow my heart rate. I didn't feel panicked but knew I could be heading into a disastrous situation. I flipped onto my back, ensuring I could get good air. Knowing how the currents flow at AP, I felt confident the water would assist me toward the beach. I just had to keep calm and move. If I stopped moving, I would become hypothermic.

Two of our group saw me struggle and stayed back with me. When Bob approached me, I told him I was having a tough time but could keep going. I asked him to stay with me. Andrew also came back to make sure assistance was at the ready. Slowly, I backstroked my way to the beach. I struggled with the backstroke and began to swim a two-armed backstroke. I realized I had bonked.  My energy gel had fallen out, but honestly, I don't think it would have mattered much. I was now fully engaged in a battle of wills to ensure I made it back to the beach safely. I alternated with backstroke and breaststroke - a far cry from my preferred freestyle. My propulsion efforts combined with the wonky currents moved me closer to the beach. We passed by the vessels Balclutha, Eppleton Hall, and Thayer. As we approached the Grace Quan, 50 yards from the beach, the current gave us an extra push toward shore. Normally, the currents would push us to the opening. With the beach insight, I flipped onto my stomach and swam freestyle, completing the swim in 42 minutes. 

When I got out, I showed no hypothermia signs. My body wasn't atypically cold and my cognitive functions seemed clear - setting aside the desire to swim in 50ºF+ waters during a winter storm. 

So what happened? All my prep for the swim has been consistent with other swims. 

• Slept better than usual - atypical and welcomed. 
• Recent swims gave me confidence in my cold water acclimation
• Didn't have much to eat before the swim - typical. But I think this was really my downfall. 

I'm rested and recovered. Tomorrow will be a new day and I plan to swim again.