How hard can it be? It wouldn’t be a big deal, I told myself. A 10k ocean swim sounded like a lot of fun. Sure, it was more than twice as far as I had ever swum in an open water race, but I figured I could just swim slower when I got tired. Old-lady breastroke is very relaxing. Plus second son, Makai, speaks fluent Spanish and was a swimmer in high school. It would be even more fun to do this race with him. And to tourist my way around Cancun with my very own translator. He was really excited about the plan so I signed us both up and then the hubster, (Brandon) and Makai and I headed to Mexico. The race is held every year on Memorial Day weekend. I was so excited that the race included swimming over the underwater museum. The water was beautiful and the underwater museum was a big draw for me. I was captivated by the online photos I found of this sunken art museum.
We went to the Friday night check-in expo, got these nifty shirts, and tickets to the carbo loading dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe. Brandon signed up to be a kayak support for me so we were all pretty excited about our upcoming race party.
Saturday morning we were up and at the start super early. It was a bit of a pre-race party there, complete with traditional dancers on the beach. The men started first which means Makai left five minutes before me. I didn’t see him again for nearly four hours.
Here’s a race description from the Global Swim Series website: “To start the 10k race you wade into the warm, crystal clear waters of the Mexican Caribbean on the shore of Cancun and swim towards Isla Mujeres (Isle of Women). And just when you are finishing the race and are thoroughly exhausted, you will get a great pick-me-up! You will swim right over the unbelievable underwater museum! The museum was commissioned as an exceptionally creative and artistic way to build an artificial reef. You will swim right over 500+ stunning and detailed statues that were carefully placed at the bottom of the ocean for you to see and for coral to grow on, creating a whole new ecosystem. Given the clarity of the water and the shallow depth these works of art can actually be seen as you are swimming in the race.”
My real life race description had a few less exclamation points in it.
The kayak supporters were either volunteers that helped anyone in need, or they had paid a chunk of cash so that they could support one particular swimmer. Brandon paid so that he could stay with me during the entire race. Unfortunately, I didn’t see him until the very end of the race. The kayakers put in down the beach and then had to wait for their swimmers quite a ways from where we started. The women were sent off and I felt great for the first five minutes swimming out to the kayakers.
Then I spent the next fifteen or twenty minutes searching for Brandon. The swells were big so it was difficult to see anything other than walls of water. I bobbed around scanning the kayakers trying to find him, but never did. Many of the swimmers were calling out to their support so it was a little strange to be bobbing around in the midst of a large group of people trying to find each other. The waves tossed me around and I ended up swallowing sea water. After the last swimmer passed me and I was seemingly alone, I gave up on finding Brandon and just started swimming. He had figured I wouldn’t wait at the start and that I had somehow gotten past him so he started paddling toward Isla Mujeres. After about 30 minutes of swimming with big waves, my stomach rejected the salt water and I started throwing up. It was unpleasant. I was vomiting, treading water and trying to push the floating particles away from me. I had the ringing ears and dizziness that usually accompanies vomiting and I could, for a moment, imagine how easy it would be to just drown in the ocean.
I swam another half an hour and felt the nausea build as I plodded along. I desperately wished I could get out of the water. I looked longingly at the beach I had started from. It was far away. I looked longingly at the island I was heading for. It was even further away. It was discouraging to feel so sick while treading water in what felt like the middle of the ocean. I wondered how I ever could have considered this a fun undertaking. I put my head down and resumed swimming. When I passed a support boat I wanted to quit but I knew they wouldn’t take me to land during the race. I figured it would feel worse to be tossed around on the anchored boat than in the ocean so I just stopped and asked for water. They threw me a bottle which I caught. After taking a few sips I recapped the bottle and tucked it into the back of my swim suit. I didn’t come across another support boat for the remaining two hours of my ordeal. I sometimes worry about sharks while swimming in the ocean. Especially when I’m in “the deep end.” But there were a few times during this race that I actually prayed a shark would come by and put me out of my misery. Alas, there were none to be had.
After a solitary 30 minute swim, I started vomiting again. A female swimmer accompanied by her female kayaker came by and took pity on me. The kayaker told me to hang on to the cord on the back until I felt better. She then resumed paddling and dragged me for a minute or two until I could get my bearings. I was extremely grateful. I felt good and swam smoothly until the nausea returned. Then I did another vomit and get dragged during recover stint. Then I swam another 30 or 45 minutes until I was sick again. It was slow going. Toward the end of the race I swam over a few statues in the underwater museum. I didn’t even care, I just wanted out. I plan to return some day to really explore it.
The last mile was close to shore and had a lovely current pushing me toward the finish line. I happily body surfed toward the finish line. Ten minutes before I finished I found Brandon who had had his own adventures paddling his kayak. He finished along side me after having saved a few lives along the way. After a long 3 hours and 45 minutes, I was extremely happy to get back on dry land. Makai had finished about 30 minutes earlier and was waiting for me at the finish line. He also had gotten sea sick along the way but never saw a single support boat. He also swam an extra mile or so by getting off track at the end where the swimmers were to turn to the left and follow the coast line. We both agreed it was a pretty miserable morning. There was a big hot lunch buffet for the swimmers following the race but neither Makai or I wanted to eat. We were still waiting for our stomachs to settle. We just waited in line for the ferry to take us back to Cancun.
The next time I catch the flu or something, and find myself throwing up, I will just remind myself that it could be worse. I could be vomiting while treading water in the middle of the ocean! Silver linings.
After recovering from our race ordeal, we relaxed before going into full tourist mode. What a beautiful and fascinating place. And one day, after I have forgotten the amount of misery involved, I will swim that race again.
After exploring and following a trail through openings in the granite, we ended up at the Poor Man’s bar for ice-cream. (The grownups in the group enjoyed a beer on the beach.) We sat around the shaded pavilion, enjoying our snacks and watched the chickens pass by. I believe a few handstand were executed along the way.
