Sunday, September 10, 7:10 a.m. RACE START!

I started the swim 20 seconds behind the guys in my age group.

(You’re old. What group was that? The Dad Bods?)

I’m in the 55-59 year olds. Originally, an Ironman swim required everyone to tread water at the start buoy. The advantage was that everyone started the race at 7 a.m., so you knew how you were doing in comparison to everyone else. The reason they stopped the “mass start” was for safety purposes.

Initially, I swam in the wake of the competitors in front of me. I had faith that they knew where we were heading & there was nothing to be gained by sprinting ahead this early in the race. Normally, the 2.4-mile Ironman swim is a loop. This swim looked like an “M.”

(“M” like the Ironman logo?)

Yeah, like that. Yay me, a swim course with three turns.

(A loop has 3 turns)

Not helping. On a looped course it is easy to see the turn markers due to their proximity to each other. Not here.

7:20 a.m. (+ 10 minutes)

1,000 meters into the race, I reached the first turn buoy, the yellow floating pyramid. Like traffic lights, they appear much smaller in the distance than in person.

(The average traffic light is 4 feet tall)

I was all excited to turn for shore…yet no one was turning.

(You were only 500 meters into a 4,000-meter swim)

Yay me. Another 500 to go before the turn. Like I said, time slows down when you are underwater. Time and motion are both distorted by water as it bends the light.

I finally reached the second buoy and followed the people in front of me around the giant yellow floating pyramid. Now I was swimming towards the shore.

(That’s a fast race)

The racecourse was shaped like an “M” so now I was swimming back towards the beach with the knowledge that the moment I rounded the double buoy I would be halfway there.

This was the first Ironman race I had swum without a wetsuit in 10 years. I had packed my wetsuit for this trip & I had even done a test swim in the wetsuit days before the race.

(Too warm for the wetsuit?)

Oh yeah. Had I worn my suit I would have been in trouble. I would be overheating.

There’s a scene near the end of the movie, Apollo 13, where Tom Hanks as Astronaut Jim Lovell starts to worry because the Earth is getting very large in his spacecraft window and he has not received any landing directions. I kept getting closer and closer to shore, but I could not see a turn buoy.

(How could you tell you were headed the right way?)

I was just following the athletes in front of me, hoping they knew where they were going.

(Just kept swimming)

I stayed on the feet of the athlete in front of me. I stopped worrying about the ever-closer shore and just focused my breathing. The next time I looked up I saw the double buoy. Any closer to shore and I would have been able to stand up.

(Ok, halfway there. How were you feeling?)

Nothing hurt & my breathing was relaxed, so fatigue had not set in yet, but as I rounded the second buoy a new problem arose.

7:50 a.m. (+ 40 minutes)

Ok, halfway there.

(Halfway where?)

Halfway through the 4,000 meter swim.

(How were you feeling?)

Nothing hurt & my breathing was relaxed.

(So?)

So, fatigue had not set in yet, but as I rounded the second buoy a new problem arose. The guy I had been following pulled away from me and now I had no idea if I was headed in the right direction.

(Swim towards to the next buoy)

There weren’t any.

(What do you mean by “There weren’t any.”?)

My sight was at the surface of the water and there was nothing in front of me but the aqua blue Mediterranean and the horizon. I had no way of knowing if I was swimming off course. I was lost in a very big blue sea.

David Roher is a USAT certified triathlon and marathon coach. He is a multi-Ironman finisher and veteran special education teacher. He is on Instagram @David Roher140.6. He can be reached at [email protected].