Fearless Swimming

My friend “Keri” took up triathlons back in the 80’s. She was an extraordinary runner and a good swimmer so after several months of training on the bike, she was primed for a spectacular debut in one of Seattle's first multi-sport events. This seasoned competitor had everything it took to be a great triathlete; except for one very important skill.

The gun fired for the start of her race and Keri splashed out with the crowd. Her arm was banged by some psycho to her right and she got annoyed. Another swimmer swam over her legs which stopped her progress. Then a series of collisions with nameless, red capped swimmers made it hard for her to keep her head above water. Panic, (and a little stomach bile) filled her throat and she quickly grasped the obvious; this triathlon stuff was not for her.

Keri never finished that swim, and never entered another triathlon.

She had all the tools to be a good triathlete except one; how to stay calm in the middle of a hurricane.

I clearly remember my first mass start triathlon at about the same time. I had trained hard in the pool for years and felt I was in very good shape. Good enough shape that I decided to play water polo for the UW as a kind of diversion -- an excuse to not do yet another hard set of 200’s at the ridiculous IMA pool.
Ten seconds into that first race I quickly decided that this event did not involve swimming, rather it was a mile long polo match. I swam with my head up, my legs kicking like mad, and my elbows were spinning wide like those knives on the Ben Hur chariot. Woe be unto anyone who got within three feet of me. Those polo practices saved my triathlon carrier, and maybe my life.
Now I don’t expect everyone to join a water polo club to prepare for the triathlon season, but I do encourage everyone to realize that swimming in the open water, and especially in a mass start competition, is not just about pulling, kicking, and good body position. Preparing for the Hurricane is your best chance of surviving it.

In her book; Fearless Swimming for Triathletes, (2011, Meyer and Meyer Publishing, UK. Distributed by the World Triathlon Corporation), Ingrid Loos Miller does a fine job not just of describing the hurricane and tallying up the dead, but also providing some scientific background, case studies, and of course a host of tools a triathlete can use to make it through a “bit of bad weather”.

The unwritten sub-title of Miller’s book is “Knowledge is Power”. Roughly the first third of the book’s 155 pages are devoted to outlining all the dangers lurking past the shoreline. Cold water, poor fitting wetsuits, crashing waves, other swimmers, mega fauna, bacteria and viruses, are just a few of the dangers Miller pains to point out. Besides these obvious obstacles, there are ancillary dangers, like dizziness from the cold water in your ears, and rip tides from the surf. Miller argues that a swimmer has to know what dangers are out there so that they can systematically confront, deal with, and dispatch them, in due time.

Of course, as the title of the book implies, the main obstacle a swimmer faces is sloshing around between his or her ears. Learning about the dangers inherent in open water swimming is just the first step in dealing with the fear or anxiety that tends to color our whole swimming experience.

Miller devotes about a third of her book to dispelling myths, soothing nerves, and providing statistics showing skeptical readers that you are indeed more likely to look good in a full length tri-suit than die in a Triathlon.

At the start of chapter Five, Miller writes; “The last thing you need on race day is fear that you will drop dead”. Well, actually, the last thing you need is a heart attack or a broken leg. What she means to say is that fear of dying is not a helpful emotion on race day. For that matter, the fear of getting lost, losing your shoe, or puncturing a tire are not very productive either, unless of course it motivates you to practice and prepare for all knowable dangers. It seems obvious but after coaching many beginning triathletes I feel it necessary to state over and over; being prepared is the best way to alleviate the fear of the unknown. Have a thorough health check up, allow enough time to put on your wetsuit, and don’t start in front if you are a slow swimmer. These steps, and many more outlined in the book, will make you a well prepared and a fairly fearless swimmer.

In Millers world of fearless swimming, everyone knows that Sharks never attack large groups of swimmers, there are no monsters at the bottom of a lake, and that wetsuits don’t shrink when they get wet. Miller points out correctly that “When bad experiences or scary thoughts are added to [cold water and wetsuits], your brain puts the two together and the fear becomes connected to open water swimming.” Miller suggests that the best way to deal with this flood of stimulation is to divide and conquer. Try your wetsuit out in a pool before going to the lake. Get goggles with a wide, clear view, and try wearing ear plugs so that you can avoid the disorienting effect of cold water on your ear drum. The kicker is to try all this out before heading to the lake for that early season practice and definitely before your first race. It’s just too much to deal with all this stuff while your face freezes and you are trying to stay on course.

My favorite passage in the book is the suggestion that a beginning swimmers’ first exposure to cold, dark, open water should be made fun, different, weird, and silly. Learning to associate an activity with fun and goofy memories is perhaps the greatest gift a coach can give an athlete. I’m already thinking of the silly games we will play the next time I lead a batch of minnows into the sturgeon infested depths of Lake Washington.

The final third of Loos Millers book deals with all of the mechanics of open water swimming like learning to go in a straight line, maneuver through a shore break in the ocean, and positioning yourself in a mass start event.

If only Keri had had this book back in 1983. Then again, like most of us egotistical, over confident, and over trained triathletes, she would have probably left the book on the coffee table while she went for another 10 mile run. There are so many things to learn and new skills to practice in order to become a competent triathlete, it’s good to see authors like Ingrid Miller drawing attention to the sport’s finer points.

What IF...

IF you can hold your line when all about you
Swerve and crash when they ride,
If you can trust the guy ahead to swim true,
But make allowance for currents and tide.
If you can train and not make training too serious,
Or be hungry and not hunger for fries,
Or being ridiculed, not be too ridiculous
By wearing an aero’ helmet on a group ride.












If you can ride – and not make the bike your master,
If you can run – and not push until you’re lame,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to suffer through a crisis
Like when your ankle’s twisted and in ice.
If you can watch your training fall to pieces,
Then rest and build back up at any price.

If you can make one heap of all your savings
And blow it on a new Felt AR 4,
Then mash it into a million graphite shavings
‘Cause you crushed it with your damn garage door,
If you can push your heart and mind and muscles
After your food and water are all gone
And so hold on when it all appears useless
Yet keep running when they cheer, ‘Come on!’













If you can swim in crowds and keep your virtue,
And ride in packs and not lose your wheel.
If neither wind nor rain nor heat affect you
If you’re smart enough to trust in how you feel.
If you can fill the unforgiving hour
With sixty minutes worth of distance run,
You’ll get a T-shirt, and maybe a hot shower,
And – what’s more – you’ll win a Tri’ my son!

Kudos to Kipling, 100 years ago today.

July 11 was the day I figured I would die. I got up at 5:20 like normal, ate my cereal, packed the car, then headed to the lake where I would start an Ironman length “workout”.

No “Ready, Set, Go”. At 7:00am I just dove in and started swimming. I warmed up quickly in just a few strokes. The wind was at my back and I could feel the waves lift me gently, pushing me along. My death today would not be from drowning. I am a good swimmer and this part of dying was really quite pleasant. After crossing the bay I turned around and headed back to the start. Then my hand hit a slimy dead fish floating in the waves. I moved quickly passed and took some deep breaths to slow my heart. I wondered what killed the little trout. Disease? Injury? Dehydration? The fish and I shared a brief touch but little else. Except, of course, a common fate. I felt little joy on finishing the 2.4 mile swim. I didn’t feel the need to hurry. Death was out there waiting for me and it seemed foolish to rush to our meeting.

The 112 mile ride started in Kirkland and passed through Bothell, Redmond, Fall City, and Carnation before turning around in Monroe and retracing the route back to Kirkland. Traffic was light at 8:00 am on a Sunday and a marine layer of clouds were a gift from Poseidon.

Katherine planned to accompany me for as long as she could. She would be my Virgil on this journey into hell. Highway 202 from Redmond to Fall City was passing quickly under our wheels. Every half mile or so the neat white line we followed was smeared with the black, green, and red remains of what once was a garter snake. Their morning slumber on the warm pavement permanently interrupted by the merciless tires of a car.

The pit crew had cold bottles waiting for me and Katheryn in Carnation, 36 miles into the ride. I gave myself a foot massage while waiting for Virgil to use the bathroom. Then we were off again. No slacking of pace. No slowing to chat with other riders. One strategy I had to hold Death at bay was a simple and well tested feeding schedule. Two gels an hour slid down my throat, along with one or two salt pills and just over 24 oz. of fluids laced with 150 dissolved calories flavored with Nuun.

I knew Death was in the area because there were at least three raccoon carcasses that I had to swerve around on West Snoqualmie Valley road. One of the slow footed fellows looked especially peaceful lying on his side with his little hands crossed just under his chin. He looked like he was taking a nap there on the road.

Katheryn’s pulls had been getting gradually shorter as the miles passed. After the turn-around and on our way back to Carnation she pulled off to the shoulder and shouted “Flat!” I looked behind briefly and saw her hand wave me forward. Death is a tricky devil. I saw what he was doing so I stood on the pedals and accelerated down the road. Back in Carnation, my friends gave me new bottles and I gave them directions back to Katheryn, then we parted ways.

I was on my own now till the end of the ride. I popped two salt pills out of my tic-tac dispenser and hoped the tight feeling in my quad was just a little fatigue and not the beginning of a ride-ending cramp. I had been going for over five hours now and was not near half way done. To distract me, I enjoyed the scenery. There were tree covered hills, cute little farms, a marsh, a cliff, a stream … then a young dead dear lying in the ditch. Its head rested on the shoulder of the road. This young fellow had probably just finished getting his evening drink the night before and was heading back up into the hills when he crossed paths with an unlucky commuter hurrying home. His eyes were still open and his back was arched noticeably from the violent impact. I could tell he was young because his coat was clean and smooth with few scars of age. Birds and coyote's would descend on the corps in the next few days if a DOT crew didn’t remove him first.

As the casualty list grew in both numbers and size, I half expected to see a dead Sasquatch somewhere up the road. Then I realized, maybe the next dead guy would be me. I neither dawdled, nor pushed the pace. I just rode. My back felt fine, (for once) but my feet started to burn. One more stop to massage the blood back to my toes and crack my locked-up foot bones before I rolled back into transition at exactly two o’clock.

Two friends escorted me for much of the marathon. (I’ll call it a “run” for brevity’s sake, while in fact it was always more of a “shuffle/walk”). Ro’ and Carrie chatted constantly about work, and college parties, and dating fails, and god knows what else. It occurred to me that maybe Death wasn’t going to kill me with a truck; rather he would split my head open with female banter.

Suddenly Ro’ jumped to her left almost knocking me over. A dried up frog carcass in her path had startled her. I wasn’t so fresh as to care weather I stepped on some desiccated fauna. Fatigue was stealing away my empathy. As I turned onto the Sammamish River Trail, I began to think that Death may have other plans for me besides a violent demise. After my empathy, Death might take my modesty as I peed in the bushes just off the trail. Then he would come after my self-respect as I spit on my shoulder. In later stages He would cop my mind as I drank the water and poured Coca-Cola over my head. In the end He would suck hope and love from my heart leaving me to die a thousand cowardly deaths.

The day was getting hotter by the minute. We had just left one of the water stops when I saw another dead bird on the trail ahead. Fitting; I was sinking fast. As I stepped around the bird I saw it move an inch. I stopped. It was a young sparrow or something, just a few inches long. A rider was coming so I stood over it so the cyclist had to slow down to get by. Reaching down the little guy flapped its wings vigorously to get away. It wasn’t dying. It had just got lost on its way to flight school. I cupped my hands over its wings and scooped it up removing it from the busy path. Up the trail was a clearing and I set it down on a log, and then continued on the run.

Everything changed after finding the little bird. This Ironman workout was no longer about death but just the opposite. I no longer thought of my creaky knees and sore back, but of the joy of movement and sunshine on my neck. I wasn’t looking for Death around the corner, rather I relished the sight of my crew with a cold bottle of water and orange slices.

I’d like to say that I ran with renewed vigor at a faster pace, but to be honest, it still hurt just as much. I stumbled along as lame as ever, but Death was no longer at my heels. I had dozens of friends helping me, encouraging me, keeping me company, and keeping me out of harm’s way. Like the little bird that was going to see another day, I was going to be OK.

I won my Ironman.

Open Water Swim Tips

Swimming in the lake is different from the pool in that you cannot just turn your brain off and follow the line on the bottom. You have to constantly be thinking about sighting, breathing deeply, following or avoiding other swimmers, all while remembering to keep good form. It's a lot to think about!For inexperienced lake swimmers, I strongly recommend getting in for only 5 minutes then getting out, catching your breath, thinking about what you need to do again, then maybe getting back in for another 5 minutes. for first timers, DO NOT TRY TO SWIM A LONG WAY OR GET A WORKOUT IN! Your goal for your first open water swim is to take at least 10 breaths in a row without stopping, practice sighting on something (on the horizon) with several peeks forward, and getting
used to swimming with a wetsuit on. Do those things and call it a very successful workout.
Other tips;
1. Bring two swim caps, or wear a light knit running cap under your rubber swim cap. You must wear something on your head or you will freeze instantly.
2. Many people wear silicone ear plugs in the cold water. They say it
helps avoid the dizzyness that comes from cold water in your ears.
3. Do not put your wet suit on in a hurry or you will tear it.
4. Use Body Glide on your neck to avoid the dreaded "wetsuit hickey".
5. Do not use any cooking spray or body glide on other parts of your wetsuit to make it easier to get off; it doesn't work.

Panic is very common your first time in open water. Everyone gets through it though. After three or four swims you will be gliding along nicely through the waves.
have fun!

Open Water Swimming

Triathletes love to tell war stories. Every hill is Iwo Jima. Every run is a Death March. And every swim is a Normandy Landing. One war story is true however; triathlon swims involve hand to hand combat. Most race directors split the field into 75 or 100 person waves in an effort to spread people out, but that inevitably puts slower swimmers out in front of faster swimmers and delays by a few minutes the inevitable collision. When slow swimmer and fast swimmer meet, there are no bayonets or firearms, just an innocent grab of the swimsuit, a push on the shoulder, and the unavoidable kick in the head.

There are no atheists in foxholes. And there are no saints in triathlons. We're all guilty. She's trying to get to dry land and he is in her way. Stuff happens.

The one consolation is that at least everyone has the same objective and is trying to go in the same direction. Colliding with another swimmer isn't necessarily a bad thing. It just means at least one and possibly both of you were going the wrong way. So contact indicates it's time to look up and change direction or "encourage" the other swimmer to do so.

I know a swimmer who actually uses contact as her sole means of navigation. She starts right in the middle of her wave and blindly swims along like a drunken tank driver. Hit someone on her left - turn right. Hit someone else on her right - veer left. If she doesn't hit anyone for thirty seconds, she stops and looks up to see if she has been jettisoned from the pack, then makes her way back into the fray.

This method takes full advantage of the draft swimmers get following close behind someone else. It saves a significant amount of propulsive energy, but requires an equally significant amount of pugilistic effort and mental stress.

I prefer to attack the swim from the right flank. I am most comfortable breathing to my left so I can spot the pack easily on almost every stroke. Following a pack in this way makes it slightly more likely you are going in a straight line. A group of swimmers is statistically less likely to go AWOL than a lone wolf. Following a single swimmer might feel fast and efficient, but if you happen to be following Wrong Way Feldman, you're screwed.

So I steer for the calm water which makes it easier to see the buoy targets up ahead. It also allows me to focus on my stroke and power without having to worry if the crazy swimmer next to me is Taliban or al-Qaeda.

A couple more notes on navigation; some people breathe bi-laterally or every third stroke hoping this counteracts their strong right arm and keeps them going straight without having to look up. Sorry, bi-lateral breathing is no guarantee you won't end up in the weeds. If you don't have the luxury of a trusty escort next to you in the water, you have to poke your head up to see where you are going every 20 or 30 seconds. You can swim off target by 45 degrees in only a few strokes and in that event you might as well be treading water 'cause you ain't makin' progress. I have literally seen people swim in a complete circle only 40 feet in diameter, head down the whole time. What a colossal waste of energy.

Peeking forward from time to time is only one of the navigation skills you need to successfully swim in the open water. If you are swimming in the middle of a group all wearing colored swim caps you will quickly be frustrated trying to spot a course buoy amongst all the bobbing orange heads. The solution is to line up your objective with some large object on shore or on the horizon. It is easier to spot the giant radio tower on top of the hill than a buoy sticking three feet out of the water.

And this may seem obvious but when you do notice that you are off course, don't make radical corrections trying to get back on your original line. I see this all the time; swimmers zig-zagging down the course because they over-correct over and over again. You may be a great swimmer, but every stroke in the wrong direction is just another step further into no-man's-land.

Now that I have scared the bejeesuz out of you first timers, I will briefly discuss the triathletes best friend, his wetsuit.

Originally used for warmth, wetsuits in the late 80s allowed race directors to extend the season and make uncomfortable water almost swim-able. Like modern cushioned running shoes, the wetsuit brought triathlons within the orbit and ken of the general public.

After people swam in the first crude wetsuits, they noticed they were not only warmer, they were faster. Very quickly designs became sleeker and better fitting. And people got faster still. These days, warmth is almost an afterthought, people use wetsuits for speed and the fact that they make a very marginally skilled swimmer feel like Michael Phelps.

The trend in 2010 are hyper buoyant suits with 6, 7, even some 10mm panels of neoprene designed to make even the most inefficient swimmer float like a cork. If you have ever read this column before, you probably know what I think about this trend. It's legalized cheating.

Fortunately, the caretakers of the sport are intervening and setting some limits on the floatyness of wetsuits. The ITU and Ironman franchises are limiting suits to a maximum of 5mm. An arbitrary number no doubt, but a reasonable compromise between necessary warmth and unseemly flouting the spirit of triathlon.

If the 5mm of neoprene in your suit still leaves you cold, there are other ways to take the chill off your next swim. Your mother told you to wear a hat on cold days, and the same is true for cold swims. A neoprene cap under your latex cap makes a huge difference. If that seams extravagant, then just use two latex caps or put your knit polyester running beanie under your latex cap. You can also buy swim gloves and footies, and they help a little, but covering your hands and feet make "feeling the water" much more difficult. Swimming will feel like you have wooden blocks on the ends of your arms and legs, so I suggest you just suck it up.

Finally, a tried and true way to deal with cold water is to get used to it. A periodic dip in the lake is great training for body, mind, and anal sphincter. It is mostly a mental challenge but is a challenge none the less. Unfortunately it takes five to ten swims in cold water for you to notice any difference, and by then the water will have warmed up considerably!

So ditch the pool with its lane lines, warm water, and dressing rooms. Real swimming happens in the open water. Keep your head up!


Open water swims this year in Seattle;
Fat Salmon, July 17.
Swim for Life, August 18.
Emerald City Open Water Swim, August 21.
Park to Park Cross Lake Swim, August 29.

The Emperor Has No Shoes

Because I'm a running shoe guy; and have been for over 25 years, friends and strangers often ask me what I think about this whole barefoot running thing. Is it really going to take off?
"I dunno" I say. "But you should go for it, and let me know how it works out for you".
Of course, I already know how it will work out for Fred and Wilma, but I think it is important for everyone to try something new from time to time and experience things for themselves.
I have found from my years at Everyday Athlete, no one style of shoe, and no one running technique is right for everyone. We sell roughly 35 models of training shoes and we like to think they are the best of the best. At my last count there were well over 300 different styles on the market. Most of them however are not functional running shoes. For instance the Nike Air Shox Turbo +9 is listed as a running shoe but no specialty retailers in the country sell it. The only people running in that shoe are folks who stumbled into a mall-store and thought $115 would get them a decent shoe. Oh well, live and learn. If everyone bought their shoes from me, Lance, Len, Greg, Shelby Steve, Scott, Chet, Ben, Cindy, or Miguell, then injury rates would be much much lower.
Anyway, back to barefoot running.
Barefooting may be great for some people, but it will certainly be disaster for others. Have you had bunion surgery? Steel plates in your ankles? Are you overweight? If so then you probably don't need me to tell you that exercising barefoot could be a bad idea. I also know that there are literally millions of runners who get their favorite Asics or Brooks every year and happily put hundreds of miles on them before shelling out another $100 for the latest update. I doubt even the most ardent barefoot running (BR) supporter could convince them to try something new. And why should they?
All the books, articles, and web sites regarding BR leave me nodding and scratching my head at the same time. The basic tenants of taking shorter strides and not landing on your heels have been standard coaching mantras for decades. Why all the fuss now?
Christopher McDougall, in his book Born to Run, touts the strength and health of the Tarahumara Indians of Mexico and attributes it in part to the fact that they don't wear expensive running shoes, rather, thin home-made sandals. The book goes on to explain how running "barefoot" teaches you to run correctly. But do the Tarahumara run barefoot?
As stated by the barefoot purists, "instead of each foot clomping down as it would in a shoe, [a bare foot] behaves like an animal with a mind of its own - stretching, grasping, seeking the ground with splayed toes, gliding in for a landing like a lake-bound swan". The barefooters say the sensitivity of your feet allow you to adapt to the grounds contours, firmness, and texture. But your swans -- I mean feet -- can't possibly splay and feel and grasp when they are inside a racing flat, or even a Huarache sandal. I am left to wonder, is it the thin sole that helps us run correctly, or is it the skin's contact with the ground that helps us, or is it the lack of an elevated heel? Which is it? It can't be all of them because you can't have a thin sole and skin contact with the ground at the same time.
Minimal shoes are referred to in the webliture as "transitional" shoes. But one danger of using these pseudo-barefoot shoes (like the Nike Free or the Newtons or most racing flats) is that they have just enough cushion to allow you to over-stride and yet they don't have the support necessary to compensate for the resulting heel strike. You just end up with two sore Achilles tendons and some fallen arches.
I would think that if you want to train your feet and legs to land lightly, you either go barefoot or wear a super thin (and fairly wide) shoe that allows your feet to feel the texture of the earth.
Needless to say, it's a tough sell for the BR's. Considering our society's passion for shoes -- all kinds of shoes -- one would think these crusaders might start with something simpler like peace in the Middle East or ending poverty. I admire their perseverance in the face of social, cultural, meteorological, and medical obstacles. Maybe if they can get rid of shoes, world peace won't seem so hard.
As a retailer I am of course interested in how this could change my industry and business model. I have a hard time imagining all my customers running without shoes. If a revolution does occur, what we will likely see, for good or for bad, is a proliferation of low profile racing type shoes, sandal shoes, or good old fashioned Keds (!?). But none of this is new. Nike made a cool shoe called the Huarache years ago. Spike-less spikes and racing flats have been around for a hundred years. And the Shoe Pavilion has a great selection of Keds right now -- and they come in lots of colors! All this is right at our fingertips but consumers sem to want more.
Maybe people LIKE to pay more for shoes. They have already shown a willingness to pay $100 for minimal shoes like the Five Fingers and Frees, (or $180 for Newtons) so the running specialty stores might not change much after all. Is BR just another side of our materialism? Instead of teaching yourself to run properly, BR's suggest you just take off your shoes then everything will naturally fall into place! It is as fast and easy as buying an orthotic. I think people just want a simple solution. Can't Merck invent a barefoot pill?
Finally, there are a couple interesting sociological aspects to this BR-polooza. First, with as much press as the barefooters get, you would think there would be more of them out there. Their websites are full of testimonials, and the apostles say it is spreading around the world (like a virus?) but alas, I have seen exactly one in the last five years. It all smacks of AstroTurf buzz generated from Knopf the publisher of Christopher McDougall's book. I think there might be something more significant going on here though which leads to my second concern.
What does it say about all of us who nod our heads in agreement with the less is more argument? Are we all so dissatisfied with our current shoe selection that we are ready to dump the whole lot and go sans shoes? Where does this restlessness come from? I think we feel disaffected because running is supposed to be an escape from a life filled with technology, and shoes have become too tech-y. The library is full of books about Americans' love/hate relationship with technology. I think Born to Run is another such book.
This schizophrenia can be seen in other sports as well, such as the proliferation of fixed gear bicycles downtown, in FINA's ban on full-body swimsuits, and the popularity of wool and silk as "high-tech" fabrics for the discerning outdoors-man.
In a different vein, I find that as we cling to our active lifestyles of 15 and 20 years ago, the cry of the snake-oil salesmen promising a fountain of youth sounds mighty enticing. Who wouldn't listen to someone who promises injury free running -- even if it means tip-toeing down the street with big callouses on our soles.
Finally, some BR's hint at a shoe industry cabal designing shoes that injure us so we buy ever more supportive and more expensive shoes. We all love a good conspiracy. Especially if it involves an industrial giant like Nike. I know lots of shoe designers and developers and I can guarantee that they earnestly are trying to make the best shoes for runners feet. But they know that if they stopped making cushioned supportive shoes, participation in running would plummet as fast as it exploded in the Seventies (when heel wedges were first introduced).
So the question remains; will large numbers of people try barefoot running or running in flats? I have no idea. If they do, I assure you retailers like me and the big shoe companies will modify our lines accordingly. Change is in the air in this era of Obama. I am just not sure if runners are poised on the edge of a cliff, or merely stepping between to boats? (Equally dangerous I would suggest). Are shoes going to the dogs, or are we slipping free of our shackles?
Stay tuned.

First Annual Kirkland Long Course Triathlon

It's three months and counting till the first annual Kirkland Long Course Triathlon.

On July 11, 2010, one or more crazy souls will swim from Juanita Beach to Waverly Beach and back, then ride to Monroe via Redmond, Fall City, and Carnation, then return the same way, and finally run to the Sammamish River trail then to Kenmore, and back the same way .

The event is free, there is no on-course support provided, it's draft-legal, and no times will be taken. It's all just for fun.

People can come and do one, two, or all three events. They can do part of the swim, then all of the bike, or visa-versa, or any combination they wish.

My hope is people will start the swim so they will be done just before 8am, so everyone can start together on the bike and do most of the 112 miles in a peloton going around 19 mph. The course travels through Carnation at 35 and 75 miles where the group will stop to refill bottles.

So mark your calendars and don't miss a one-of-a-kind event, if you think you're up to it!