Finding Kristyn

Ah swimming. For many, swimming is an activity that brings back images of summertime. Lifeguards blowing their whistles at sopping wet children running around on slick cement. A small child wriggling to get free of the coconut smelling goop being forced upon him by his mother. The spray of water on your magazine from a perfectly executed cannonball. For others, swimming brings back memories of 6 AM swim practice. Uncomfortably tight suits that are a better motivator to stay fit than a Richard Simmons video. And passing out as you try to win the who-can-hold-their-breath-the-longest competition. For me, I had all but hung up my swim cap and goggles, that is, until I decided to move to a tiny island in the middle of the Atlantic. When the island is only so big, there is only one way to go. Grab that wetsuit...and take a deep breath...

I had no intention of becoming a "serious" swimmer again. Lounging on boats. Doing the occasional splash around in the surf. It was working just fine for me. Until...I heard about this little thing called...the island triathlon. Hmmm. A triathlon? Well I bike. I run. I...swim??? Where did I hang those goggles again? Well if I was going to get through the race, and swimming was the first event (probably because this is the one event you can die in if you get too tired!), I guess it was time to throw on the ole' swim cap and start kicking.

In his effort to help me look like an actual swimmer and less like a piece of seaweed being tossed by the surf, Mark (bless his heart) and I have been having nightly swimming lessons in the ocean. OK, usually the first things you focus on would be a solid stroke technique, a smooth rotation of the head in and out of the water to breath, and following the line at the bottom of the pool (in an effort to go straight!). Well, take the beginner swimmer out of the pool and plop them in the open water complete with waves, rip tides, turtles, jellyfish, and no handy painted lines at the bottom, and you have just created the world's most extreme swimming school. Talk about sink or swim. Learn. Learn fast. Or you are fish food. Literally.

My coach and I were off to a great start. I'm kicking maybe a quarter of the time. My arms are moving. I am not sinking. All good things. And then, he made a very important observation. My complete and utter lack of direction. I would like to blame my problem on the ebb and flow of the waves flipping and tossing me about. However, Mark and I know all too well that this is far from the truth. Mark's insistence that I "identify a spot along the shoreline and keep that in your sights" did little to help the weaving and bobbing of my swimming path. He said that regardless of my novice swim technique, I would have a faster time in the triathlon if I could just swim straight. I don't disagree. But agreeing with the idea and performing the task in my choppy practice area are two entirely different things...

Swimming direction aside, one of the key factors in swimming faster and winning those triathlons is perfecting my stroke. My problem seems to be in the fact that I am right handed, which apparently means a swimmer I am right elbowed, right shouldered, and just all over right armed! I seem to use my right arm in a somewhat effective manner, only to haphazardly throw my left arm around my body in what may appear to the innocent by-stander as a call for help, when in fact, I am just attempting the front crawl. With a strong right stroke and a windmill left stroke, it's no wonder I can't swim straight!

Strong strokes, straight lines and smooth breathing (aka not looking like I am gasping for my last breath whenever I lift my head out of the water), almost become secondary thoughts to the one that is lodged foremost at the front of my brain. Which is....what the heck is out here with me? Stingrays. Sharks. Portuguese man of War jelly fish. They are all here. But where? Or a better question...do I want to know? Just knowing they are out there is motivation enough to get my kick faster and my stroke stronger!

Due to a lack of sea lice (yes...you heard me...lice), Bermuda boasts some of the clearest algae-free waters in the world. It is so crystal clear, that you might forget you are in water. That is, until a spotted stingray swims under you or you happen to shake hands with a jellyfish. It is easy to tell when I have spotted something fishy as my somewhat smooth right-arm stroking comes to an abrupt halt followed by as much splashing and back pedaling as physically possible to change direction in the open ocean! Fish scared me. Floating seaweed scared me. Heck, the moving water scared me. It was obvious from the first time this mountain girl braved the waves to get into the deep water that this was going to be challenging. More often than not, an elevated heartrate and uneven breathing was not an indication of my prowess through the open waters, but was more a direct result of an unsolicited encounter with the local sea life.

I saw upside-down floating clear triangles (jellyfish). Brown twirling mushrooms (also jellyfish). Oval shapped blue bubbles shapedng tentacles (yes you guessed it...Portuguese Man of War jellyfish). Once I stopped screaming (hey...they startled me at first) at the poor cute turtles, they too started to swim alongside me...cheering me on and giving me tips for my lame left side. I heeded Mark's advice not to touch the Lion fish (yeah...cause that's my problem...touching the fish). And once I learned to concentrate more on my swimming and less on what was swimming with me (or under me, or beside me), my stroke became stronger, my kicking more consistent, and my direction....well...let's focus on the positive things shall we?

Nemo's dad was right. Go have an adventure. Even if you don't go straight, at least you are going somewhere...

Kristyn