MIMS Part Deux

by Terry Laughlin

In June 2002, I swam the 28.5-mile Manhattan Island Marathon (MIMS), partially to celebrate completing entering my second half century (I was actually 51 at the time) with a physical challenge. I also swam it to demonstrate how it was possible to easily complete a swim requiring considerable endurance by training for economy instead of super fitness. My first MIMS was a complete success.  I enjoyed every mile, finished easily, took one-third fewer strokes than any other swimmer, and felt great the next day.

When my friend and training partner, Dave Barra, put MIMS on his list of goals for this year, I volunteered to accompany him during his qualifying swim Sept 30 in Lake Minnewaska. (To be accepted into MIMS, you must swim for four hours in water colder than 68F.) Minnewaska was a chilly 62 that day, and despite having been sidelined most of the previous seven weeks after separating my shoulder while mountain biking, I held a steady pace from beginning to end. This made me consider – at least for a moment -- doing MIMS again.

 On December 16, Dave called to alert me that entries would open – and possibly fill -- that day. I made a spur-of-the-moment decision to commit myself…and a $1200 entry fee. At that point I had not attended a Masters workout since August, as I was still rehabbing my shoulder with gentle hour-long sessions three times a week in the TI Swim Studio.  That night I also resumed attending Masters workouts.

 Over the next five months I enjoyed my best Masters campaign ever, culminating in a third place finish in the mile (1650 yards) at Masters Nationals in mid-May. Unlike 2002, I didn’t train specifically for MIMS this year, even though my training volume was higher. In 2002, I swam everything at minimal effort, focusing on making ease a habit. This time, having set Dream Goals of winning a national long distance championship and breaking a national age group record, I’ve trained to swim as fast as possible for two miles. My plan for completing 28 miles was simply to pace myself 

Two days before the race the weather report mentioned possible thunderstorms for Saturday afternoon. A day later the forecast had turned ominous -- heavy rains all weekend and flooding in the metro area. “Ugh,” I thought. Heavy rains cause the city’s sewage treatment system to pour raw sewage into the rivers -- and whatever dreck is in the streets also washes into the rivers. I considered the possibility of not swimming to avoid putting my health – and my Dream Goals – at risk.

I awoke at 2:45 AM to prepare my gear and the supplies my daughters, Fiona and Cari, would bring on the crew boat. Though it wasn’t raining then, it began to rain heavily as we drove to Manhattan. I dropped my crew at Pier 11, on the East River near South Street Seaport at 4:30 and drove across town to the starting area at South Cove. The weather was the main topic of conversation while we waited for the 6:30 start.

When the kayakers paddled into South Cove I met Travis Perry, who would guide me for the next 8+ hours, for the first time. Finally the race director, Morty Berger counted down and sent us off. Paddlers and swimmers were tightly packed as we swam around the southern tip of Manhattan. Dave and I had planned to swim in tandem, but lost each other in the crowd and I didn’t see him again until the finish.

The route would take us from South Cove (on the Hudson in Battery Park City, half a mile north of Manhattan’s southern tip) down to the Battery, up the East River past South Street Seaport, to Hell Gate, then into the Harlem River up to Spuyten Duyvil, out into the Hudson and back down to South Cove.

The water at the Battery was 62F, colder than the race web site had advertised. I felt the chill and wondered how I’d hold up if it stayed that way. Unlike the exuberance I felt during the early stages of the 2002 race I was distracted and ambivalent.  Besides swimming through water described as “compromised” just before the start, I was worrying about my left shoulder which had been "clicking," though not painful for several weeks. In response, I’d significantly reduced my training for the previous month, which put a crimp in my preparation. I also worried about whether my calves or feet would cramp, as often happens in training. Finally I was mentally commiserating with Travis who was in an open boat without rain gear.

It was raining heavily and the ceiling was so low that you couldn't see any of the sights of lower Manhattan that are a major reward of swimming this race. For a time I pondered various ways of rationalizing should I decide to pull out. The upshot of all that distraction was that I fell well back in the field in the first 30 minutes. I’d done the same in 2002, but that was because I swam as a tourist, stopping for a photo op at every significant landmark.

I met up with my boat and crew at the Brooklyn Bridge, took my first feeding and set off again. The BMW (Brooklyn, Manhattan and Williamsburg) bridges flew overhead with surprising speed. It felt good to be making clear progress and the water was warming somewhat as well. In 2002 I took in all the sights – South Street Seaport, UN, Empire State Building. This time with visibility “compromised,” I just swam. I took my second feeding just south of Roosevelt Island, around 40^th St, headed up the west channel (Manhattan side of the island) passed under the 59^th Street Bridge shortly after and continued to Hell Gate, where I took my third feeding. I had glimpsed other swimmers and their boats only at a distance for most of the East River, because the field spread out in the broad channel.

In the Harlem River, as happened last time, I began passing other solo swimmers and relays in bunches. The narrow channel in the Harlem keeps the field closer together, making it feel more like a race. My stroke felt great and the stimulus of catching and passing other swimmers and their crews – I would see the kayaker before the swimmer – brightened my mood considerably though the day remained gloomy.

What’s I like about the Harlem River is that you pass under eight of the 13 bridges that connect  to Manhattan. These, along with the History Channel billboard, Yankee Stadium and other sights familiar from countless trips on the Major Deegan Expressway make for convenient landmarks and provide a sense of progress. I had planned to feed every 30 minutes but neglected to ask my crew to alert me. I also wanted to feed when I felt ready, rather than being stopped in the midst of a good flow. After each feeding, it seemed to take me a good five minutes to get back into a strong, relaxed rhythm. So I chose my pit stops by setting my sights on a particular landmark, and swimming until I reached it – but just as often changed my mind and kept swimming once I did.

While I had encountered only a single UFO (Unknown Floating Object) in 2002, this year I was stung by a jellyfish just past the Brooklyn Bridge and ran into many patches of debris in the Harlem River, probably from storm drains.  Travis expertly plotted our course, signaling me to follow by raising his hand or paddle. I kept my head low, sneaking a peek at him while breathing. (I did however divert myself by trying to read billboards and legends painted on the sides of various buildings – deathless prose like “Borax Building Supply” through one goggle while rolling to breathe.

We reached Spuyten Duyvil (“Spitting Devil" in Dutch) at the northern tip of Manhattan with surprising speed. I was racing a swimmer from one of the relays at that point, but just before we swam under the Metro North railroad bridge to enter the Hudson, the course manager radioed all boats to pull the swimmers from the water, to let a storm pass.  It was fairly cold sitting on an open boat in a squall. I would have much preferred to continue swimming than to take this bit of rest. I asked the elapsed time and learned we had been swimming five hours. That was good as it meant I could possibly finish near eight hours, almost an hour faster than 2002.

After about 30 minutes we got the okay to restart. The Hudson was choppy at times, the field spread out again and I felt a bit fatigued and sore from racing for much of the previous 3+ hours up the Harlem. I turned my focus inward, paying attention to the details of each stroke – clean entry, long extension forward, take time to firmly grip, then spear the other arm to its clean entry – and saying relaxed. And I aimed for landmarks, the GW Bridge, which I reached faster than I expected, the huge West Side sewage treatment plant (giving it a wide berth by staying 500 yards offshore), the 79^th St Boat Basin, the cruise ship berths, Chelsea Piers and so on. After passing each, I’d focus on executing my strokes as well as possible until I reached the next.

There wasn’t much else to focus on because, for possibly eight miles, I only glimpsed other swimmers distantly. Finally, below Chelsea Piers, two other solo swimmers and a relay appeared in my vicinity, so I summoned up a furious finish and managed to put a decent gap between me and them by the end. I finished in 8:28 which, even with the 30-min hold, is 25 min faster than last time. I placed 9th of the 22 solo swimmers and ahead of 11 of the 17 relays.

Dave, after we separated at the start, swam strongly through the early stages. Cari and Fiona told me he was near the leaders and about five minutes ahead of me when I met them near the Brooklyn Bridge. But his hamstrings tightened, then completely seized up when he stopped to feed just short of Spuyten Duyvil, forcing him to quit the race. He has already promised to try again next year.

I’m deeply grateful to my stalwart guide Travis, who proved himself quite an endurance athlete. Travis had paddled in from Queens between midnight and 2AM, slept two hours, then reported at 0430 to the kayak staging area. After guiding me well for 8.5 hours, he paddled another two hours back to Queens. Thanks also, to Cari and Fiona for support and sustenance as my crew, to Chuck my crew boat captain and to Jen who was my "official observer" on the crew boat.

While I was thinking "I'll never do this again" during the first hour, after I finished I thought "I'll definitely do this again." Maybe some of you would like to swim with me. TI MIMS Relay 2007 anyone? Besides being one of the top endurance swims in the world, the proceeds from MIMS help provide free swim instruction for thousands of underprivileged kids in the city. TI will become a strong supporter their efforts next year.

PS: Two days after the race, I began suffering from diahrrea and other digestive “issues.” It seems I’d picked up an unwelcome passenger during my trip through “compromised waters.” I’m on strong antibiotics and beginning to feel better a week after my first symptoms appeared. I still intend to do the swim again.

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