Trans Donner Lake Swim

This past weekend our monthly GNO (Girls Night Out) took a big step and became an official GW (Girls Weekend)! Naturally, being the "athletes" that we are we could not simply go somewhere and have a lovely weekend of relaxing, eating and drinking... we had to wrap the girls trip around a torturous event of some sort. This time it was a 2.7 mile swim across Donner Lake. The photo here is from the start line. The finish is somewhere at the base of those mountains across the lake. Just to the right of the dip I believe. To protect the innocent and the modest I will not mention the names and pertinent details of my good friends here. Being the recreational and occasional Masters swimmer that I am, I obviously did not pick the event. I have not yet perfected open water swimming and find it somewhat... uncomfortable for several reasons:

1. I apparently have a useless right arm when it comes to swimming. It is only noticeable in a situation where there are no lane lines and no stripe down the bottom of the pool. I look balanced, my strength in the weight room is equal, I swim straight. But in open water, I would swim in a circle if I were not careful (and do sometimes even when I am careful). Whether I lift my head every 14 strokes or every 4 I must always adjust back to the left.
2. I cannot spot very well apparently. With my circular swimming issue this becomes a huge problem. My last triathlon I actually swam into a submerged tree that was just off the shore. I saw the other swimmers at some distance away, and I saw the orange buoy. In my mind it seemed THEY were all slightly off course. I decided sometimes being a follower is not such a bad thing to be after I disengaged from the tree. Years ago I did one training swim in a lake to prepare for my first tri (which was the painful Wildflower Olympic Course) and ended up hitting a PARKED PONTOON boat. How does one do that? How did I not see the boat until my hand actually hit (and nearly dented) the big silver pontoon? Sheepishly I looked around to make sure no one was on the dock and promptly turned towards home hoping the cool water would take the red out of my cheeks before I got back.
3. There are scary things in the deep. I do not like not being able to see the bottom. I used to close my eyes when under water so I wouldn't have to see what I couldn't see. Things float around, shadows occur, and stuff wraps around your fingers. This does not help the regular breathing. I'm fine in a group, but training solo just doesn't happen that often.
4. I don't float very well. I have a muscular caboose and lower torso and cannot keep them near the surface of the water very easily. Having to lift my head every so many strokes means my back end sinks. I put my head down, swim over a hill of water and just as I plane out I have to lift it again to see where I'm going or rather adjust my course.

Needless to say I gamely went along with the plan. We went sans wetsuits because of course it would be ridiculous to be more buoyant and warmer! I suppose the real situation is that wearing a wetsuit takes you from being a competitor to being a participant which none of us wanted. My friends had lofty goals and I thought even if I come in last place at least I got a PLACE as opposed to the shameful green 'good job' ribbons no one wanted when we were kids.

I should mention that both my friends went to college on swimming scholarships. One has swam the English Channel and they train together and are the fastest girls on our team. Similarly, I swam my last two years in high school for a team that took people afraid to put their face in the water (backstrokers) and then took a 15 year hiatus only to return to the sport a few years ago. Clearly we are in the same league. Their goal was to win it. Mine was to stay afloat.

Some older women on our Masters team said it was a great swim and beautiful. Another swimmer said the lake is always like glass and not that cold. We were regaled with stories of how 'fun' it was, how 'picturesque', how 'smooth'.... This year, the wind picked up almost immediately after the start making 'picturesque' white caps and made the water so choppy I think I am personally responsible for lowering the level of the lake. I looked at my watch and at 8'27" wanted to quit yet there was literally no end in sight. There were times my body would rise up on a wave as I turned to breathe only to have the water disappear underneath leaving me airborne for a moment before slapping my cheek as I fell into the trough.

At one point I turned around treading water to make sure I wasn't the last person. Normally in any event I am very average. I pass a few folks a few more pass me. This time I just kept getting passed. Many other people had kayaks to help them find their way across this lake. After all it was a point to point swim and you couldn't see the finish line from the start. I tried to 'borrow' some kayak direction but couldn't or wouldn't keep up.

My friends did indeed win. One was the first woman out of the water and the other the 5th. They both won their age groups. I too succeeded in reaching my goals. I did beat most women 30 years older than me and I survived and I maintained my solid middle of the pack status.

Up on the shore I stood shivering pathetically and feeling sorry for myself for not being able to find my towel and fighting back ridiculous a lump in my throat that I couldn't for the life of me explain why it was there. A stranger had pity and gave me their towel. I guess being in 68 degree (or colder) water for 1 hour and 40 minutes does something to your dignity. I snapped at my friends when they found me probably for no other reason than they looked warm.

Nevertheless, 10 minutes later I was stripped of my swimsuit, bundled in sweats and we were all talking about "next year" and discussing the evenings plans. We got some beer in our system, they picked up their winner towels, and we headed back to town for some unsuccessful shopping, a dip in the hot tub, some hors d'ourves at the hotel, and a delicious dinner. From an difficult athletic event to a stereotypical girls weekend in a matter of a few hours. The main street in Truckee is perfect for a stroll and some window shopping. We discovered a fudge shop and had a little taste to cure the sweet tooth. We were looking for warmer clothes to wear out that night as coming from Sonora where it had been 100 degrees we just couldn't fathom when packing that a sweater would be necessary. And for the locals it wouldn't be. As we sat shivering outdoors in our long-sleeves beggging the wait staff to figure out how to turn on the heaters, the locals sat comfortably in spaghetti strap tanks, and t-shirts look warm as could be.

Our weekend was topped of by the fact that we stayed in the most beautiful hotel. The Cedar House Sport Hotel. The next morning we were up at 6:15am but lounged around and departed at 8:15am... back on the road.

Since then, I've done nothing! For someone who likes to work out for hours a day this is sort of killing me and yet I cannot seem to find the motivation to put a foot on the road, a push on the pedal, a toe in the pool, or lift a finger in the weight room. What is going on!