Memphre: If You Like (Warm) Piña Coladas

On a Friday evening in August, right before the Lake George 10k, my teammates and I went to get some homemade ice cream after splashing in the lake and stretching out. I vividly remember this moment as I was in line for my ice cream at the window: my teammate Marty asked me, “When do you swim Memphre? It’s soon, right?”

I had a deer in the headlights moment. I had to check what day it was before I replied, not all that confidently, “Yeah…. It’s in 2 weeks.” 2 weeks? Really? I hadn’t put very much thought into it other than it’s there, I’ll swim it, It’ll be good. Which was weird for me because as you know reading this stuff, I’m an overthinker. But as this crazy summer was coming to an end, I hadn’t really thought about it, preparing for this stuff was just second nature and the anticipation that got to me in the springtime was nowhere to be found.

At this point it really was routine. After 8 Bridges and before Memphre I had 3 great swims. I did the 25k Boarder buster also in Lake Memphremagog as a little bit of a warmup for this one. And the week before Lake George I swam Rose Pitonof, from 23rd Street to Coney Island. I felt great and flew down past the Verrazano Bridge with the currents to the pier, setting a new course record! And the day after I had my “oh shit Memphre’s coming up” moment, I swam a strong 10k that I negative split by 5 mins!

The squad at Lake George!

After Lake George, I began the taper process for the 3rd time this season, still not giving it much thought. Charlotte had walked me through a map of the course on Zoom, but it didn’t even feel real. Logistically, I had a lot to do. Our first stop on the way to Newport, VT was Newport, RI for our NYC friends Sidney and Andy's wedding. Packing cocktail attire next to tubs of maltodextrin made for quite the strange list.

We arrived in Newport VT on Sunday evening. This year I got to do a Vermont Trifecta in Lake Memphremagog – 3 x 25 ice swimming in February, the 25k Boarder Buster in July, and now the 25 Mile length of the lake. Newport Vermont is a small, charming town with an amazing community – my first time up there was only last year but it instantly felt like I belonged. The headquarters of a group of crazy swimmers like me, and a friendly monster – Memphre – watching us from the depths.

It finally started to feel real when we had our race planning meeting and dinner at the Eastside. Yan and I were joined by Charlotte, Phil, Michael from Ontario who would be sharing the lake with me that coming Wednesday, and his crew, Brian. A room full of swimmers telling stories about all the crazy stuff they’ve done and plan to do is my kind of party. On Monday, we did a shakeout swim at Charlotte’s lovely lake house with Margaret and Michael. At lunch afterwards, Margaret, a Memphre veteran, even told me “My biggest advice is don’t look at Magog.” I’m mentioning this now because guess what I didn’t do? More on that later…..You were right!!

Warming up with some cool weather and a foggy lake!

I was ready to go on noon Tuesday, not midnight Wednesday! Finally that familiar anticipation had me chomping at the bit, knowing I’d finally relax once I was in the water. And I got to do just that right at 12:01 AM, Wednesday. The setting at the beginning, the peaceful lake, the dead of night start, the all-encompassing darkness – it was easy to draw some comparisons to another swim last season which was made more challenging by a crew member I chose.

My entire support system this year through training and events has been nothing but positive and uplifting. Don’t get me wrong, if you’re reading this and you’ve ever crewed for me or swam with me, I really appreciate you and you’re likely part of that uplifting population, but I didn’t swim open water events with that perfect inner circle score until recently. I face this truth often, but it’s not about what was said or done by anybody before, it’s about why I chose to internalize these things and spit them right back out as negative self talk that sabotaged my mental game. It’s a pattern that I’m still working on unlearning. I’m unapologetically oversharing this with you because my big “why” in marathon swimming is self improvement. I’ve learned so much about myself and have found such a sense of purpose in tackling these big challenges, and always learning from them, especially when they’re not all rainbows and butterflies.

The first picture at first light, sporting my lone green glowstick.

I had this in the back of my mind swimming in the dark, pushing it down. I absolutely love night swimming, it’s so easy to just get lost and relax, and I wasn’t going to let anything get to me as I enjoyed the calm. Yan wore a headlamp and our system was that 5 minutes before a feed, he’d turn the light to red. In the dark, that little red beacon always appeared way quicker than I expected it to, time was flying by. My senses in the dark were somehow heightened, Phil was surprised when I told him between feeds that I could smell the coffee from his thermos. As the lights of Newport vanished behind me and the stars overhead became brighter, I also smelled remnants of a bonfire, which gave the whole experience a nice nostalgic summer camp feel. I had some issues with the light on my head, it kept pulling my goggles offsides and making them leak, so I opted to just keep the one light on my back and stayed very close to the boat, with a better view of that nice red feed beacon. Phil joked with me afterwards that it was like I was pacing off the boat instead of the other way around.

First light was also beautiful. I’d been sipping away on warm feeds the entire time because of the air being in the low 40’s/ high 30’s. It was around then I realized I made a big mistake. I planned my feeds very carefully, with the idea of keeping them warm/lukewarm the whole time. Since it was the first time Yan got to actually mix them, I tried to be very organized. I had my crystal light/Walmart great value energy with caffeine for the blue bottles, and liquid IV for the greens.

White powder everywhere... I'm sure the airbnb owners were confused. No illegal activity, just crazy stuff.

I mixed all the liquid IV with my malto for easy pouring, but I didn’t think about what the Piña Colada flavor would taste like warm. I choked it down the first couple times in the dark, alternating with my warm lemonade (which I surprisingly do like). But on one particularly warm mixture, I was gagging. Also in the light, I could see that it had some strange white film floating at the top, even after being shaken. That flavor is really the best flavor… when it’s cold! I actually thought it was sort of funny and I yelled to everyone “I’m never drinking Piña Coladas again!” And then of course, that triggered “if you like (warm) piña coladas…” on a loop in my head.

Choking down the dreaded green bottle!

Shortly after that, some less funny thoughts came back into my head. I had some goosebumps. I asked what the water temp was and when they said 71 degrees, I was upset. The cold never got to me in a way I thought I’d have to get out, but the sheer fact that I cruised through Tahoe never cold once in water colder than this really frustrated me. I kicked and warmed up but that period of time really shook me. Charlotte told me that the big round island I saw to the Northwest was Ile Lord. It didn’t look like it was that far, but after not looking for it for 30 mins between feeds, it didn’t seem to get any bigger or closer. I was also beginning to have trouble breathing, I could see the pollen floating in the water and remembered similar problems I had at the Boarder Buster 2 months before.

Although I started feeling goosebumps and that freaking island just didn’t get any closer for quite a while, everyone remained so positive. And now that it was lighter outside and the faces of my crew became visible, I couldn’t help but compare the energy. Yan, the love of my life, who thinks all of this swimming is insane but nonetheless avidly supports me and helps me through every step. Charlotte, one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met and an amazing coach with nothing but positivity and smiles. Phil, the king of Memphre, a wealth of stories and knowledge about the incomparable Northeast Kingdom, guiding us along with constant encouragement. Emotion flooded over me, I had tears in my goggles and a ridiculous amount of gratitude for those I saw through the lens fog, as well as an overwhelming sense of relief that I am safe with them. Physically, of course, but also emotionally. And that was the big difference.

Despite these uplifting thoughts, or maybe in spite of all the emotion, I knew my pace was falling. I was upset because I felt like I was falling short of my ability, but I just didn’t have that gear. I was critical of myself even with contrasting energy on in the boat and it was overwhelming. That even after accomplishing so much this season I can say these things in my head and hear a voice so clearly saying “you should be faster” or “you’re not good at the cold” because I’m having one moment of weakness in a compromised state. How could I still be doing this to myself?

So incredibly lucky.

I was trying to hide how I felt from the boat. I did what I thought was a good job up past Ile Lord. But then when I could see Magog so far away, the internal became external. Like I said before, shoulda listened to Margaret! But instead of any critique, which I half expected because it was not smart how often I looked at the city, I was met by silly penguin hats, some warm water to dump on myself, and “when we arch both hands overhead, it’s a heart, and it means we love you.” I’m even getting a little emotional writing this, Charlotte was simply amazing, I hope I’m like her when I grow up.

I’d finally started to settle into the fact that I was gonna get there when I got there. Not groundbreaking, but comforting. Even with the city and docks still so far away, my mood was majorly boosted by my feeds. After shifting away from that disgusting excuse for a tropical drink in my green bottles, we got creative. Charlotte gave me some of her warm tea. I had peaches, chocolate pudding, chicken broth, chia gels, but the most mood boosting of all was the Sour Scandinavian Swimmers from Trader Joes. I was craving them every feed for the last 3-4 hours. My piña colada feed fail turned into something constructive – I was very fatigued, but at least I was well fueled.

I even have friends on the Upper East Side who buy them for me when they sell out at my local TJ's on the West Side (shoutout to Ethan!). Just plain obsessed.

I could see the bottom of the lake from what felt like a mile away. There were so many plants and reeds everywhere - there had been multiple occasions even in the depths of the lake where I felt like Miss America or something, the reeds kept clinging to me like a beauty pageant sash. As it got too shallow for the pontoon to continue, the goggle fog came back as I saw the crew do one more overhead arm arch heart. I got to the shore and I was beyond words other than “Thank you!”

Shoreline ahead, plant debris below

On the entire boat ride back, I was fighting back tears. This kind of emotional cry felt so intense compared to a sad cry or an upset cry. But at the same time I had a strange sense of lightness and relief making it through that swim and letting go of some of that emotional baggage I’ve held onto for so long. It was all too complicated to explain to anyone on the boat at the time, so I tried to push it down. There was an option to ride back in a car from Magog instead of taking the 2 hour boat ride back, but I opted for the longer ride. I just wanted to be with these people who got me through the past 14 hours, even if I was an emotional wreck.

And a physical wreck too. Yan and I got off the boat, and into the Eastside Restaurant for some poutine before heading back to our Airbnb, a small studio loft. I laid on the floor and started to ice my shoulders, and then I heard a loud snore. Yan passed out on the sofa with the lights on! It was 7PM. I made it up to the bed by 7:30 and also forgot to turn out the lights. I woke up around 2 AM very sore and hungry, so I went downstairs, chugged some water, turned out the lights, brought up a spoon and a jar of peanut butter with me, and ate half of it. It was all I could manage!

The next day before Michael and I got to hang our signs up at the clubhouse, we had brunch and a debrief. We both agreed that the biggest struggle was that long stretch where Magog was, and we talked about past events and plans for the future. What really stuck with me was when Michael spoke about why he loves marathon swimming – for the fact that you can take your time and your career can span many, many years. It’s a great point, and one I’m taking to heart.

We did it!!!

Yan and I were still so wrecked, we planned to drive back that day but instead we extended our airbnb stay another day and took advantage of the lake access there. I floated in the shallows on an inner tube for 3 hours as the sun went down. I got to debrief with the lake after it had brought me a dark yet successful experience the day before, and it was much needed. As the sun set on Lake Memphremagog, so was the sun setting on this season – just 2 short swims left. As I left the lake, I was at peace, knowing that this swim was well earned while also teaching me there’s a lot to improve on, far beyond just swimming.

Completely at peace.