Warning: I have no
idea where this post is going to end up.
I have had thoughts rolling around in my head all week about last
weekend. For those of you that haven’t
been paying attention—I was crew for a good friend of mine, David Livengood as
he attempted to complete his triple crown of marathon swimming by completing
MIMS (Manhattan Island Marathon Swim)—he as previously swam both the English
Channel and Catalina Channel – and on Saturday became the 89th
person ever to complete all three swims.
Marathon swimming is a little different than some of the
other ultra-type events – those you can do unsupported (though may choose not
to). But I don’t think that anybody ever
completes a marathon swim unsupported—you are much more dependent on your crew
than in most of the other endeavors.
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Your mission as the swimmer is to just keep swimming and follow the
kayak where ever it goes. Meanwhile the
crew (in this case we were 2 kayaks, motor boat with driver, chief crew,
communications person and official observer) spend the entire time making sure
the swimmer is safe, taking the best course (in the case of a swim with strong
currents this is super important), properly fed, reporting to the outside world
what is going on and occasionally doing a little sight-seeing. It is surprising how much time all of this
takes—there was actually not much time left for sight-seeing at all. I have now participated in a marathon swim
from the perspective of a kayaker. We
were on the water for a total of about 10.5 hours. David took 9:54 for the swim but we were on
the water before the start due to the logistics of swimmers, boats and kayaks
around Manhattan. 
What did I learn from being a kayaker? - The borrowed sit on top kayaks that the event organizer provides are definitely not comfortable—especially for over 10 hours straight.
- 10 hours passes surprisingly quickly when focusing on all of the jobs noted above.
- There is definitely a lot of teamwork involved in getting your swimmer safely around the island. David picked a great crew—and Darrell was a great leader.
- The world continues to rock up and down for quite a few hours after you get out of the kayak.
Thinking about the swim—I know the longest I have swam in
open water is about 3 miles—or about 1.5 hours—I have to give all marathon
swimmers a lot of credit for the mental aspects of swimming that long-I think that that part is actually harder than the physical act of swimming for that long. Unlike other ultra-sports the time is not
spend looking at incredible scenery (or even boring scenery)—you are heads down
,in likely brown water, that you can only see a couple feet in front of you. Your entire interaction with people during
the swim is for about 20-30 seconds every 30 minutes when you stop to
feed. And that interaction is usually
about how you are feeling, any adjustments to pacing, food etc.
My best memory of the swim is from somewhere in the 7-8
hr. mark. We were out on the Hudson River—it
was still fairly calm (it got really choppy as we went further south) and David
had a feeding. He pops his head up and
announces to us: “I’m having fun! Are you having fun?” downs his Perpetum and then right back at
it. Even though our butts were extremely
sore by that point, we answered the question correctly.
Where is this leading?
I’m not sure. I’m incredibly
proud of what David has accomplished.
Does it make me want to become a marathon swimmer? Not so sure.
Obviously I spend a lot of time pushing myself to limits—but somehow
changing sports part way through seems to do a reset on your body and it’s like
starting all over - - doing one sport for a really long time? Hmm. I
guess it’s not just swimming either as I really have never done a really long
bike or a really long run---looking at all those communities and many of my
friends that do ultra-distance racing makes what I do seem just a little less
crazy somehow.
