Mallorca 70.3: The Finish Line Still Counts – The Swim

The morning started off normally enough.

We got up, I had some food, gathered all my nutrition for the race, and made our way to transition to drop off last-minute things. After that, we hung out at a little café on the beach while we waited for things to get going.

The weather was overcast, with rain and possible storms expected. It had rained a lot during the week, and the forecast for race day was not exactly ideal.

I put my wetsuit on and went into the water. The water was cool, but not cold. It felt like it would be comfortable to swim in.

Then the first sign of things to come showed up.

Three times I tried to put on my swim cap.

Three times it popped off my head.

Something simple. Something I do all the time at the pool. But for whatever reason, it was not going smoothly that morning.

I lined up with my swim group and waited for our turn to start. Unlike most people, when it was my turn, I did not run or sprint into the water. I just walked out until it was deep enough to start swimming.

It did not take long before something felt very wrong.

I had not even reached the first buoy when panic started to hit hard. I was having a difficult time settling in and breathing. I felt heavy in the water, like I was going to sink. I saw buoy two just ahead and swam straight toward it.

When I got there, I grabbed onto it and tried to calm myself down.

That was the first time where not finishing seemed like a very real possibility. Not only might I not finish the race, I might not even get out of the water.

I started to undo the wetsuit from around my neck and immediately felt better. My next reaction was to just take the wetsuit off right there while holding onto the buoy. The water was chilly, but it actually felt really nice.

So I took it off, tied it to the buoy, and started swimming again.

At that point, I finally felt like I could settle down and just swim.

I made my way out past buoy eight and then to the last one where we made the turn before heading back. The water in Mallorca is known for being crystal clear and calm.

I could see the bottom, but with all the rain we had that week, the wind, and the waves, the water was pretty murky. There was also a sideways current running along the shoreline, so at no point did it feel like we had any current helping us. It just made things harder.

The waves were terrible. At one point, I thought I might get seasick. All I wanted to do was put on a scuba tank, dive under the waves, and get out of the swells.

Almost every time I looked up to sight and see where I was going, all I could see was water. I had almost no idea where I was or where anyone else was around me.

Then I saw buoy 11 and swam toward it.

The next thing I knew, a rescue boat came over and they started telling me my race was over and I had to get out.

I knew I was swimming slowly, but I did not think I was so slow that I had missed the swim cutoff. Then they started saying something about buoys seven and eight, as if I had done something wrong.

A person on a kayak came over and told me I needed to go past buoys seven and eight, make the turn, and then come back.

I had mixed emotions at that point. I saw another swimmer sitting in the boat, and honestly, that looked pretty good right about then. But I was also frustrated because I knew I had swum past buoys seven and eight. I had made the turn around the triangle buoy with the Ironman logo on it. I saw that buoy a lot because I was fighting the current, and every time I looked over, it felt like it was still right there.

I explained that I had gone past seven and eight, made the turn around buoy nine, turned past buoy ten, and then headed toward buoy 11. After that, the person on the kayak said something like, “Oh, you did all that? Okay, you can go.”

So I kept going.

There is no real way to know how much time I lost. I spent time holding onto the buoy trying to calm down. I spent time taking off my wetsuit. I spent more time hanging onto the boat, talking to race officials and explaining that I had swum the course correctly.

A swim that I expected to take around 40 to 45 minutes ended up taking nearly an hour.

I exited the water after roughly 57 minutes of swimming, floating, fighting the current, trying to figure out where I was, and trying to keep going.

Given how that swim went, just getting out of the water felt like a victory.

Kat, Jeremy, and Kristen were right there waiting for me at the swim exit. I talked with them a little as I walked toward T1. I apologized to Kat for losing the wetsuit she got me.

I still feel bad about that.

But I was out of the water.

At that moment, that was enough.