light ex·er·cise ... can anyone tell me what this really means?
/līt/ˈ/eksərˌsīz/
My doctor cleared me for light exercise in late spring. I started doing 30 minutes on the elliptical machine once a week at the gym, occasionally followed by core strengthening exercises. I quickly grew tired of the elliptical machine, signed up for a two mile open water swim and returned to the pool this past May. After a three and a half year swimming hiatus I felt very rusty, but was thrilled to be wearing a flashy speedo and smelling of chlorine once again. Leading up to the event which took place on July 11th, I swam five times, the longest of which was just under a mile. Some things never change.The Annual Maryland Swim for Life is a fundraising event that takes place in the Chester River, a Chesapeake Bay tributary. Athletes can choose to swim distances ranging from one to five miles, and the money raised goes to DC-area HIV/AIDS non-profit organizations and local watershed organizations that advocate for clean water.
Race Morning
To say that my race day morning ritual has changed dramatically since I last competed almost four years ago would be an understatement. Gone are the days when I could wake up in the morning, travel to the race venue, eat a peanut butter sandwich and an energy bar, and call it a breakfast. The morning of the swim, I woke up and was literally on cloud nine. My on-going health issues had been relegated to the corners of my mind and I wasn't nervous at all despite my lack of training. My goal was to enjoy myself and complete the two miles. But first I had to cycle through my daily morning Lyme treatment protocol consisting of supplements, herbals, thyroid medication, antibiotics, and breakfast. Due to the specific timing of when I have to take everything in relation to food and each other, it takes about 2 hours from start to finish. I woke up early enough so by the time I met my crew to head down to Maryland for a 9 am swim start, my protocol was behind me.
The crew. I'll try to keep it short because I could go on for days about how awesome and supportive these ladies are.
- Rachael: Volunteered to wake up early on a Saturday morning to be my cheerleader/photographer for my first race back after a forced health-related hiatus. And also made awesome signs.
- Bronwen - We've participated in this event together at least once, maybe more. I've lost track since we use to train and race together quite frequently. I was thrilled to be swimming with her again.
- Meg - Seven years ago I did this event with Meg (according to the Timehop app) and I was thrilled to be swimming with her again, since we also used to train and race together frequently.
- Mack - Since I've known Mack, I've not been racing. Hopefully we'll be doing more races together in the future.
A. Great question. I am supposed to cycle through the protocol three times per day. Spacing it out around food and each other is a pain in the butt. It's easier to accomplish during the week. On the weekends I aim for twice a day because when I'm out and about, taking my traveling pharmacy with me is not always an option (good thing my doctor isn't reading this). I had no idea what condition I was going to be in after the swim so I figured I had to get everything in at least once that day.
Over the past six months I've been developing food allergies at a steady rate. They are not life threatening, but eating certain food now adds to my gastrointestinal/inflammation issues and causes a burning sensation in my hands, feet and scalp which is not a delightful experience. Between the dietary restrictions I have been following throughout my treatment and the growing list of food allergies, I felt that it was important for me to eat something that I knew wasn't going to effect me in a negative way before the race even started. Eating something on the road is not an option for me these days,
Q. I am no expert, but doesn't exercise contribute to inflammation as well?
A. I can answer this in regards to my current situation. Yes. It takes about three days for me to recover from the additional inflammation and discomfort that my light workouts cause. I have to plan my trips to the gym, pool and yoga studio accordingly.
Q. Hey Julie, since you ate breakfast so early, weren't you hungry by the time the race was about to start?
A. Yes. I was starving. Thanks for asking another great question that is totally helping with the flow of this narrative! About half an hour before the race I announced that I was hungry and in need of a little extra fuel before the swim. There was a lot of laughter when I tore into a package of Trader Joe's macadamia nuts. "Really Julie? Macadamia nuts?!" Meg questioned and exclaimed at the same time. I got a good laugh out of it too, since I know how ridiculous it looked. I shake my fist at the food allergies and the snack limitations they are causing me, as well as the price of macadamia nuts.
While I was snacking on my nuts Bronwen tore in to a sweet potato flavored Clif energy gel that she said was kind of warm and gross and not as awesome as she was hoping it would be. A toddler who was strapped to his parent took an interest in her sweet potato gel because it was packaged like a lot of the baby food they are selling these days. The kid made a grab for it but his arms were too short. Luckily nobody tried to grab my nuts.
The Swim
Bathing cap colors and wave starts were assigned according to mileage. The five mile race started at 9 am, and then in increments of 5 minutes the rest of the waves began. Bronwen was in the 3 mile wave, and Meg and Mack were in the 2.4 mile wave. As I stood on the beach burping up the taste of macadamia nuts and watching my friends start, I began to second guess my snack choice.
At the time of the event the Chester River's water quality grade was a C-. Shortly before the countdown that signaled the start of the 2 mile swim, I turned around to wave at Rachael so she could capture my enthusiasm about being able to swim in dirty rivers again. A feeling of pure joy swept over me the minute I dove forward and was fully submerged in the water. I couldn't stop smiling. It was a mouth wide open, my cheeks hurt from smiling, kind of smile. I had a whole conversation with myself early on in the swim about the importance of closing my mouth because people with weakened immune systems shouldn't be taking in water that has a grade of a C-. I was convinced I was going to end up with some weird bacterial infection. Despite my concern, I couldn't stop smiling.
The buoys marking the course were half a mile apart. The second buoy was the turnaround for my wave. About a quarter of a mile in to the race the base of my neck hurt so bad that I was no longer capable of lifting my head up to sight the buoys. Instead of seriously thinking about whether or not I could possibly be doing damage to my neck by continuing on, I opted to take advantage of the low tide and occasionally would stop swimming, stand up, and adjust my direction accordingly. For those of you who are not open water swimmers, it is very important to be able to sight the markers (usually buoys) along the course so you can swim in the straightest line possible to your destination. You breath to the side while swimming, but every once in awhile it is necessary to lift your head just enough while looking forward, so your eyes can break the surface and catch a glimpse of what lies ahead of you. Just in case you were wondering, I was not doing a very efficient job of swimming in a straight line.
About a half a mile in, I developed a burning sensation in my right hip and lower back that would occasionally shoot into my leg. It was a horrible feeling, yet I was still smiling and loving the fact I was back in the water. A few minutes before arriving at the turn-around I saw Meg swimming past me in the other direction heading back to shore. I stopped to say hi to her. She looked startled to see me waving at her and yelling her name while I was floating in the water. The turn around buoy was a murky, muddy experience in low tide and I saw the sister of a girl I used to swim with in college, so I stopped to say hi to her too. I don't know what came over me. I guess I was feeling happy and social. In the past I have never found much time to stop and say hi to people while racing.
With one more mile to go, I suddenly got a burst of energy. Despite the neck, back and hip pain, I cranked up my pace. About a half a mile later a wave of exhaustion hit me as muscle soreness crept throughout every square inch of my body. I could barely lift my arms out of the water and my right leg was dragging behind me not really kicking. I felt like I was swimming backwards.
During the last quarter of a mile, I was starving and I lost feeling in my hands and feet. As it turns out, macadamia nuts don't cut it as a pre-race snack. The hollow grumbling noise of my stomach kept me company until I made it to shore and dragged myself out of the water. I felt very wobbly while running, or should I say shuffling, toward the finish line. Everything seemed to be in slow motion once I crossed it. I could see people's mouths moving but I couldn't really hear anything. Bronwen was still swimming but Meg, Mack and Rachael were talking to me and I had to really concentrate in order to make out half of what they were saying. Earlier that morning I couldn't find my watch, so I had not timed my swim. I estimated it took me about 1:25:00 to finish, but Meg and Mack insisted that I had swam faster because they hadn't seen many blue caps come out of the water before me. I laughed and dismissed their statements. I was pretty certain my estimate was solid.
After 13 hours of sleep, I woke up feeling exhausted and incredibly achy and sore. The exhaustion hung around for almost a week, but I was pretty surprised about how quickly the rest of my body recovered (neck and hip excluded from that statement). I was even more surprised when the results were published, a few days after the swim, that out of the 17 women in the 2 miler I came in second with a time of 1:11:58. The lady who beat me swam a 1:10:53.
Q: Hey Julie?
A: Shut Up.
Q: Do you think you could have won if you had done less standing up and talking and more swimming?
A: Perhaps.
For a full week after the swim I experienced a "swimmers high". My euphoria was through the roof. I seriously haven't felt that great in years, despite the neck pain and exhaustion. There was a noticeable shift in my energy too. A few people at work told me to cut back on the caffeine in the morning (been caffeine free for almost 4 years), strangers on the street were saying good morning to me, apparently my voice sounded very "alive" on the phone and my chiropractor told me I was like a totally different person after I talked non-stop about random things throughout the duration of a half an hour appointment. He also told me that I probably should have done a little more training before doing a 2 mile swim after he examined my neck and hip.
I have read a lot about Lyme disease and the diverse effects it can have on people's brains. Some people notice difficulty thinking and remembering and others experience extreme emotional waves. And for some it is a mix of both. In one book that I read, the author explained that the brain experiences malfunctions like other body organs when damaged, so while healing from Lyme disease it is important to remind your brain of what "normal" feels like. I love swimming. And it was one of my favorite things to do before I got sick. By going out there and doing that race, I believe I opened the door for past emotions to come back into my consciousness, touching off yet another step in the healing process.
Earlier I highlighted my race day crew, and now it's time to give a shout out to my other crew. Thanks to all of you near and far who flooded my phone with texts, phone calls and social media shout outs. Your excitement about my return to swimming was greatly appreciated. You all ROCK!
