Mighty Hamptons Race Report - the beginning

Not sure where to start with this one. Results were mixed, to say the least. But the experience was still pretty awesome.

Saturday
Did all my race check in. Bought a pair of those giant goggles. Saw my friends from the bike shop and the tri camp. Feeling ready.

Went to the beach. Beautiful day in Montauk. 3x the normal number of surfers were out, due to extra swell from Hurricane Ophelia. Husband was . . . stoked.

Early dinner (for us). Prepped bags of gear, bottles of Amino Vital. Fuel belt bottles have developed a mildew problem. Eww. Prepped coffee for the morning. In bed by 9:45. Thunder, lightning, and rain outside.

Sunday
4:00 am. Wake up call. Got right up. Forced down coffee and peanut butter toast. Husband secured bikes to car. (He planned to visit the bike shop during the race).

5:45. Arrival at the race site. Marked my territory. Weather is dark, cloudy and cool. Temperature is around 60 degrees. Rain has passed. The swim is along the beach. It looks far. The previous nights rain has churned up the water, and ther is a tiny amount of chop, but in fairness, the conditions are pretty close to ideal.

6:30. Husband bids adieu. I climb into my wetsuit. In the water by 6:40.

6:45. The horn goes, and the men are off. I move over to the start. I don't like bobbing around, treading water, but I feel ok. I try to position myself in the middle - out of the way of the fast people, but not way off to the side or the back. I explain to several women the start between the buoys, stay on the right side of the center line of buoys, etc. I am a voice of authority.

6:55. The women start. Here is where it all goes downhill. All those legs and arms kicking -- gah! I try and stay with the pack and just stroke, stroke, stroke. I get out of breath pretty quickly. I try swimming on my side to catch my breath. I try to stay close to the buoys to avoid adding distance by zig zagging all over the place (like in my Sprint Tri in July). I seem to be drifting out to sea. I correct diagonally. I am no longer surrounded by swimmers, but there are still some people behind me.

Freestyle. Move to backstroke for a little break. Wave pours over me and in my mouth. I swallow salt water, cough and sputter. Backstroke devolves into a doggie paddle. Back to freestyle. Gag reflex happening when I put my face in the water. I keep going.

The turnaround point looks far away. I make the mistake of looking back. No one there. :(

I keep going. The gut doesn't like it. A little bit of my breakfast comes back up. It's not easy to throw up and tread water. The lifeguard guy on a surfboard asks if I am OK. I nod, but go hold on to his board. "Did you cramp up?" he asks. "Yes" (lie).

I swim a little further. The people on the return approach. There are a lot more of them than there are people in front of me on the way out. I'm tired.

There is just no way. It is just too far. I cross the line of swimmers and walk up on to the beach. Husband is there waiting for me. "Are you okay?" I'm glad he is there because I was worried about how I would find him.

I'm feeling pretty dejected. And nauseated. If Husband weren't there, I would have cried. He gives me a hug, although I am soaking wet.

He says I swam really far and I should finish the race. "Isn't that cheating?" You just won't be in the official results, that's all. He sends me off into the transition area. I put on my bike stuff. I have a gel. I keep going.

Unfortunately, that's all I have time for . . . got to head for the airport.

More later -- it gets better!