Hilary and Theresa's Road to Nowhere: Lights, Camera, Alcatraz!

I. Alcatraz Eve

I'd experienced occasional jitters during the previous week, but the nerves kicked in big-time on the afternoon before the Alcatraz swim. I can actually see Alcatraz Island from Lafayette Park where I was walking my dog the afternoon before the swim. The wind had picked up quickly putting some serious chop on the bay. I hadn't really considered that I might have to swim in white caps. I tugged on Layla's leash and hustled her toward the leeward side of the park...

I began to think about all the things that could go wrong. Although sharks are the first thing I'm usually asked about when I tell someone I swim in the bay, they are really at the bottom of my list of imaginary catastrophes, probably because I've yet to hear a reliable story about a shark attacking a swimmer inside the bay. Hypothermia ranks higher, but dehydration is a precipitating factor and I'd been hydrating well since Wednesday, so I figured I'd be fine on that front. I'd trained for this, so I was only mildly concerned about running out of steam.

Sadly, my highest ranking fear was that I'd be the slowest swimmer in the group and that I'd be forced back onto the boat where I'd have to ride to the beach in shame. I pictured the crestfallen faces of my friends while they waited on shore for me and watched the successful swimmers high-fiving each other; I could actually feel my face getting flushed. The insanity of being more concerned about a boat carrying me to safety than being eaten by a shark was not lost on me, but still..

I tried to stay in the moment and focus on the things I could control. I figured out a timeline for the morning, got all my gear together, ate lots of carbs, and by the time the Giants game started, I was pretty relaxed. My fear was just a blip on the screen and absent additional ammunition, it died its usual death. When the whitecaps crossed my radar again, I reminded myself that afternoon winds would be unlikely at 7:30 a.m.

II. Showtime

Afternoon winds unlikely? Yes. Impossible? No, as it turned out. We immediately noticed the trees blowing on our fairly sheltered block as we left the house at 6:30 a.m. When we arrived at Fisherman's Wharf where Chucky's Pride was docked, it was clear that the wind was blowing hard to the east. Damn, we would be swimming against a strong wind, something I hadn't yet experienced.

The wind was all everyone was talking about. One of the coaches remembered how something called "wind waves" threw her backwards even though she was swimming with a strong current. One woman quietly chanted "no wind, no wind, no wind." I tried to get someone to tell me that it wouldn't be any worse than the choppy conditions the week before, but there were no takers. Ann, the coach I would be swimming with finally gave it to me straight: "The swells today are going to be bigger than anything you've experienced."

Believe it or not, I didn't panic. Ann told me that the most important adjustment would be turning farther on my side with each breath and I had practiced that. We got our instructions: we would swim 300 yards toward the Fontana Towers, then head toward Fort Mason, then the Palace of Fine Arts, and then our destination - St. Francis Yacht Club Beach - about a 2 mile swim. We boarded the boat and in the safety of the harbor it actually seemed like the wind had died down.

But it hadn't, and by the time we were approaching Alcatraz, I could see that the white caps we saw from the shore were actually big waves. The boat began to have some trouble positioning itself and every time the Captain killed the motor it seemed like the boat might tip over. I started to get antsy; I wanted to either jump in or just go back to shore. The previous buzz of 40 people chatting died down. And we waited.

A few minutes later, the Captain announced that the conditions were going to make it too dangerous to jump as close to Alcatraz as planned and that a "modified course" would be attempted. That sounded fine but I did flinch a little when Coach Pedro announced that in light of the conditions, we shouldn't swim if we didn't feel comfortable and that our our money would be refunded or put toward a future swim. There were a couple of similar announcements and additional modifications before the Captain decided it was safe to jump. There were still waves, but they no longer looked like something you could surf and I stopped feeling like I might be thrown overboard.

I'm still amazed I didn't panic. I think there must have just been too much going on to panic; there was neither time nor space for panic. Once the theme song from 'Rocky' began to blast over the loudspeakers, it was time to jump. I stepped to the rail, held on to my goggles, and let her rip.

It immediately felt so right, like there was nowhere else in the world that I was supposed to be. I hardly felt any movement during the first 100 yards and the 60 degree water actually felt warm. When Ann stopped to ask me how it felt, I remember saying "this is totally doable!!!" And it was.

There would definitely be moments when the swells surprised me. They were bigger than those I'd experienced. And there were times when I couldn't sight because of an oncoming wave. But then on the next breath, I would be able to. Somewhere around the 1/2 way point, Ann and I just stopped for a moment to take it all in. There was the Golden Gate Bridge, and the Palace of Fine Arts, and although I never saw them, she told me that two sea lions had been swimming with us for most of the route. It was perfect.

During the second half of the swim, the currents were super strong and we really picked up speed. The modifications had probably taken 10-15 minutes off our originally planned swim and in 33 minutes we were stepping onto the sands of St. Francis Yacht Club Beach. And there was my son and his wife who showed up to surprise me. And my Masters Girls who had been with me on that first swim in Aquatic Park. And Mike and Joanne and Laura... I got them all soaking wet with big sloppy hugs and then we heard the call over the loudspeaker that it was time to swim back to the boat. And just like that, one of the biggest adventures in my life was coming to an end.

But not before the party on the way back to the Wharf. It turns out we had a lot to celebrate. According to the Captain, the day's conditions were the worst he had ever seen. Coach Pedro and the other experienced swimmers confirmed this. The wind was 25 knots and the swells were 6-8 feet!! I was told things like "if you can swim in this stuff, you can swim anything" and "this swim gives you serious bragging rights." I felt a little more swagger in my step as I took a victory lap around the boat, taking photos and soaking it all in.

I know the excitement I still feel right now will pass. But I think the boost to my confidence as an open-water swimmer will linger. And I hope the lesson I learned about acceptance and adaptability will linger as well. The conditions were not the ones I wanted but they were the ones I got and I didn't fight them or panic over them or complain about them. I did the best I could with what I had, and it was enough.

So I guess that's enough about this Alcatraz swim but I have a feeling there will be more because ***WARNING*** THIS SPORT IS SERIOUSLY ADDICTIVE!!