No two races are ever the same, especially when it comes to guiding.
I use a simple mantra when it comes to guiding; if I’m not 100%
confident in my ability to get the person I’m guiding to the finish
line for any reason, I won’t guide them. I’ve stood by this as a means
to be prepared
for any race. I treat guiding race prep exactly the same as my
personal races; train, study the course to find any unique features for
me as an athlete or that could make guiding someone else difficult. I also consider the areas of strength and experience of the athlete I’m guiding has as well as the area they feel they may
lack experience. With David, this was an easy conversation, the swim.
Since the first conversation I had with David he made it clear that he
had never swam tethered in open water. Over the last year he has made
tremendous gains in the pool easily swimming 2 miles at a time. A week
before the half iron race David had the opportunity for his first open
water tethered swim at the Dare2Tri camp. This camp is a tremendous
opportunity for all triathletes with disabilities to receive guidance,
instruction, guides and assistance as it relates to racing in a
triathlon. David expressed to me his appreciation for the swim time he
had as he began to become familiar with the oddities that are open water
swimming.
David
arrived at my house Thursday which was nice to have some more time to
discuss the triathlon camp and for my son Mason to come up with a new
game with David called “do you know where I am now?” The game consisted
of Mason moving from place to place in a room then asking David to
identify where he was based off the sound of his voice. David was a
good sport as the game continued on to Friday morning as well. One of
the things I’ve enjoyed about guiding and having the opportunity to have
these athletes at my house and around my family is to give my children
the opportunity
to understand things like blind or visually impaired on their own
level. Emmie, my daughter who’s 5, would refer to David as “blind
folded”. Not exactly the scenario but a small step for her
understanding David’s world a little bit. Most of David’s and my talk were
about the upcoming swim for the race on Saturday morning. Our plan was
to head up to the race site early afternoon Friday and get in a
practice swim together. We had discussed strategy at length and how I
try to swim in a straight line and let the athlete make subtle
adjustments based on the tension of the tether tied between us. If he
gets to close I can either let him bump me or tap him to make him aware
of a slight adjustment away from me. This was the plan going in.
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| David and I entering Lake Winnebago for our practice swim |
Lake Winnebago is Wisconsin’s largest lake within its border at
215 square miles of surface. The race takes place in the upper eastern
corner of the lake and on Friday, our test swim day, the wind was
blowing directly out of the west. The water was choppy. Choppy, at
that point, became the word of the weekend.
We pulled our wetsuits on, adjusted the tether and walked to the
shore. Standing at the shore is a little intimidating without the
ability to see the other side of the lake, the wind blowing in our faces
didn’t help much either but on that hot afternoon at least the water
felt refreshing. The buoys for the race were already out and we were
using those for points to swim to in order to practice swimming
side-by-side and also to practice navigating turns. The idea was that
during the race there were two right-hand turns to make the triangle
swim. I was to swim on the left side of David which would allow me to
bump in to him or cut him off to make the correcting turn to the right
around the buoy. For that day in those conditions, the guiding and
tethering was a distant second in importance as David was having some
difficulties getting settled in to swim. We were averaging about 25
yards of swimming for each
time we’d stop, regroup, gather our bearing and start swimming again. I
learned a valuable lesson that swim; regardless of how much or how little sight a person may have, the effects of swimming in the open water are the same. Disorienting, misdirected, off-course
and frustrating are all accurate descriptions of what Friday’s swim was
for David. I had been there before on my own, now I was trying to imagine how that would feel being on the end of a tether with little opportunity to verify my location or direction on my own.
When we would stop swimming and tread water David would try to point in
the direction he thought we were trying to head, each time the course
he pointed was a good 45 degrees, or more,
off. It felt as if he was trying to apply a concept that I greatly
appreciate and marvel at with the visually impaired and blind athletes
I’ve been around – feel. He was working to feel his way through the
swim from the perspective of where he was starting to swim and
where he should be ending up. He mentioned how in the pool he can feel
himself moving along and feeling when he’d be getting near the wall in
preparation to turn around. He would feel as he neared the lane lines
and make the subtle adjustments to stay off them. All things that are doable in the pool but all things that disappear in the open water for most of us.
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| Waiting for our wave to begin |
Saturday
morning David was already filling me in on the wind direction and speed
as he spent most of the night with Siri, asking her “what is the wind
speed”. It was ideal for a 7:15 am swim; a couple miles an hour out of
the south east, which meant much of the swim would be protected from the
wind as it was coming
off the shore. We got to transition and hung the bike and began to
unpack our swimming gear. I set out my towel and set my cycling shoes,
running shoes, socks and visor out like I normally do. David chose to
keep all his items in his bag where he knew where they’d be. We put our
wetsuits on more to keep us warm than to prepare to swim, it was in the
low 50’s and enough wind to cause a slight chill. We were in the final
swim wave, 5, of the half iron distance and stayed back from the water
as athletes began to push closer to the water as the time approached 7
am. David, Meghann (my person), and I were standing in the sun on the
cold wet grass simply waiting for the waves to begin. David was quiet
and Meghann picked up on his nerves. I really hadn’t noticed or just
didn’t care about his nerves because in 15 minutes our wave was starting
and I was ready to guide. We left our sweatshirts with Meghann and
stood at the back of the half iron swimmers as waves began to move in to
the water and begin their race. While standing there I turned to David and asked
something about being ready and he replied with a hesitant maybe or I
think so… to which I said “You’re kidding right?!” He didn’t say
anything else and I kept walking him forward closer to the water as our
wave was up next. I wasn’t going to buy in to any hesitation on his
part, I was his guide for the race and I wasn’t there to enable or build
upon hesitation by asking or feeding it. I kept moving towards the water and he kept right along with me. Our wave went off and we were the last two to enter the water.
.JPG "Swim view from the beach") |
| Last ones out in the water |
Prior
to our start I was telling David that it was a shallow swim start that
went out parallel with the shore and that many people were walking the
first 75 yards before getting up to their shoulders deep and starting to
swim. We did the same. I don’t know if this is unique to guides or
just me but right before we started the swim I turned off the fact that
this was a race. For me guiding isn’t racing, it’s more of a job, it’s
thinking and evaluating in each moment to make a decision to make the
athlete’s race easier, harder, smoother or more difficult. When David
was ready to swim, he put his face down in the water and jumped ahead; I
jumped with him and from that moment on, it was all about David.
The
water was as smooth as a large lake could be, we were at the back of
the pack with no threat of anyone coming up from behind us, it
was by all means a perfect guiding situation for a swim. Then David
stopped swimming to find his direction; much like our practice swim we
had made it a short distance before he started treading water and
searching for the right direction to swim. A few minutes would pass and
he again began pointing at our swim target, and like the previous day’s
swim he’d point off target. We’d swim again and again we’d tread
water. His frustration built quickly especially as he’d tread water
he’d slightly turn away from our target and in the few moments between
him pointing on target and then pointing again, he’d already
turn off target once more. This continued for the better part of the
first couple hundred yards of swimming. When we would swim and his
direction would drift I was continuing to try and get him to feel the
tether, feel the tension of him pulling away from me in order to make
that slight shift back towards me to stay on course. Instead of
changing his direction it would lead us to stop and tread water once
again. David’s patience had just about run out and as life guards were
passing in kayaks or hanging out floating on noodles, he verbalized a
thought I’ve had at one point during long open water swims, I don’t
remember exactly what he said but it sounded like doubt that he could
complete the swim. I’m not one for motivational speeches or remember
what my words were but what I began doing was asking him to trust me. I
never said trust and I never asked him anything, but what I was trying
to impress upon him was to just swim. I wanted him to get his face in
the water and just swim, don’t worry about where, or how far or in which
direction. Trust me and swim was my message, however I expressed it as we treaded water tied together in the middle of a big ass lake.
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| Swim complete! |
We both knew the day wasn’t over but now that the swim had ended what was left was there for us to enjoy as he’s an experienced and accomplished cyclist and runner.
