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Tag: Seattle

What pool?

US Masters Swimming @mastersswimming just tweeted:

Seattle Seahawks quarterback @DangeRussWilson includes swimming in his training regimen.  See you in the pool, Russel

What I find upsetting in that tweet is, after three years in Seattle, I’m still trying to figure out: What pool?

Another season is beginning and once again I’m looking for a pool. Two years ago, I looked around and came to the conclusion that no USMS team in Seattle was going to meet my training requirements. No two teams, for that matter. I tried BWAQ, the team in the really nice pool a half hour outside of town, but after two months of sitting in an added hour of rush hour traffic on my way from practice to work in Seattle, I gave up. I also tried HMST at the University of Washington, but I found there what I’d found at ORCA just a few months prior: a 90 minute swim in a crowded lane a few times a week doesn’t cut it. That isn’t serious training. There was no team for me.

And maybe that was the problem right there. In a city of 662,000, there is no Masters team. Let me clarify, there is one Masters “team,” Puget Sound Masters, but PSM is composed of 36 different workout groups, each with its own schedule, own pool, own payment system, and no connection to the other workout groups whatsoever. In 2015, the local LMSC had 1,686 registered swimmers, 1,348 (80%) of whom were part of PSM. With an enormous team like that, you’d think there’d be some leverage. But there is no PSM team.

Instead, what Seattle has is a disjointed hodge-podge of groups doing the best they can to each make it on their own. There are four viable workout groups at three locations (yes, two groups use the same pool) across the city each offering one workout per day with a total of 374 swimmers (the remainder of PSM swimmers are registered on teams outside of Seattle limits or unattached). Despite being on the same “team,” swimmers may not freely cross town to take advantage of a more convenient practice time with another workout group, and there are none of the benefits that come from having such a large membership. The workout groups don’t even share a website. In every way, they are individual teams.

To make it worse, the PSM landscape is set to change drastically in the next few years. The ageing UW pool (home of HMST, 85 swimmers) is rumored to be demolished in Spring or Summer of 2016 (though no official word is available), and the Juanita Aquatics Center (home of LWM, 83 swimmers) is slated for demolition in 2018 with no new pool in sight after 63% of voters rejected a ballot measure in 2015 that would have funded a replacement facility. The pools for 16% of the LMSC will disappear. Will the swimmers disappear with them?

Presently, Downtown Seattle has no pool that sustains a functional Masters program. Capitol Hill has two: one has two workout groups, the other has zero. Numerous athletic clubs and public pools in the area remain untapped by Masters, and unavailable to lap swimmers seeking some serious training. With no leverage, and no plan to band together, there will be no new training space.

Swimming in Seattle is in a crisis, or at best its in a stagnant state of neglect and disrepair with a further downturn coming soon.

So USMS,  it’s nice that Mr. Wilson has a place to swim in Seattle. I just wish I did, too.

Disclaimer: This past December, I applied for the open position as USMS CEO, but I don’t expect a call back.

Around Bainbridge – route

No surprises on this one. Just once around the island, taking the shortest route we can manage. Point to point to point to point.


This is a 25.5 mile circumnavigation. Thanks again to Google for helping out here.


Looking for more information? Then you may enjoy this .kmz file of the route, waypoints, and some current scouting I did last autumn.

Here it is:

Photos: Alki Light

Fighting burnout, stoking the fire

Traditionally, as the end of the summer comes, the leaves, the temperatures, and my training all begin to fall. But not this year.

By time late September 2013 rolled around, I still had weekly open water swims of over 7k. The Puget Sound is beautiful, and all I wanted to do was swim in it. Sounds harmless. Then I went and joined a swim team. Then I joined a second swim team. By late October, there were weekdays opened with a 5:30am swim practice and closed with an open water swim in the darkness newly brought about by Daylight Savings Time. As the months got colder, I added post-swim trail runs with some training buddies, and would continue to push the 6k mark as the Sound dropped into the 40s late in November. This level of training had continued since May, and my real training was to start in January.

Or so I told myself.

What I’d forgotten, or overlooked, or ignored in those playful autumn months is how important is my annual break-up with swimming. And now here I am at the end of March fighting total burnout. While my workouts are meant to be getting longer, simply getting in the water is regularly a struggle, and I’ve even begun asking myself why I’m doing it at all– the most dangerous of questions. In fewer than three months, I’m to be swimming 120 miles down the Hudson. By then, I suspect swimming and I will, in the best scenario, not be on speaking terms. The chances of us still being friends by June seem remote. And this is a terrifying prospect considering we’re only at the beginning of the season!

Now it is too late to take three months off, and there is no way to go back. So it becomes a mental game.

Last Saturday I stepped onto the Golden Gardens beach, warm hands in the pockets of the parka protecting me from the pelting rain. As I approached the newly-made campfire, a few confused faces noticed the lack of swim bag and towels. Midway through my workout the night before, as I thought about what would come with the following morning, the cold, damp, shivering sandy wetness that accompanies most Seattle swims, I decided I’d remain warm and dry on the beach. Only if the sun came out and a compelling reason presented itself would I swim. I needed a day off, a mental health day.

So I waved my friends off as they left on their swim in the cold, rough water. Then followed them with cameras. Then discovered that when they reached their turn-around point they’d see a wall-full of anemone. A few minutes later, Lisa shouted up from the water below, the wall was covered in starfish. Melissa, Guila, and Maria all said the same.

Then the sun came out. I’m glad I keep my swim bag in the car. The starfish were gorgeous, as always.

Photos: Alki Beach

Photos: Sea creatures of Alki

Alki Beach swim map


Strait of Juan de Fuca, an announcement

[Originally published in Please Tap on the Glass at USMS Blogs on 16 May 2013.]

The Strait of Juan de Fuca separates Vancouver Island, BC from Washington and connects the Puget Sound and Salish Sea to the Pacific Ocean. At its narrowest point, the Strait is 11.6 miles wide. Like the Strait of Gibraltar, it is oriented east-west and hosts challenging winds, currents, and sea life with mountain ranges rising from both coasts. My swim is set for late July and, if successful, will be the seventh swim crossing of this waterway1. Planning a transnational swim has been an amazing adventure; it’s a feat that’s made me realize merely jumping in to start the swim will be a huge victory.

But this isn’t just a swim report. This is also a love story. However, the fair maiden is not played by ‘swimming’ as you’d expect. That’s old hat; you don’t need to hear that story again. No, this time the object of my affection is…Seattle.

The idea for this swim popped into my head sometime in mid-December, just after I’d arrived in Seattle from New York with all my belongings packed into a half-filled station wagon. At that point, Juan de Fuca was just a twinkle in my eye. What gave the idea some body was a visit with a Seattle native turned New Yorker, marathon swimmer Caitlin R. Growing up in the Pacific North West, Caitlin had already given thought to the seemingly endless possibilities for open water swims the Puget Sound offers, and it was inspirational to find someone to share ideas with, especially someone so encouraging. A sense of adventure: something I love about Seattle.

Seattle in the winter is dark and dreary, the omnipresent cloud blanket blocks out what little daylight there is at this latitude. Wet and cold, it’s downright British, yet somehow an outdoor attitude persists in a way I never found on the East Coast. On 5 January, I headed to a vacant swimming beach in Seward Park, Lake Washington for my first day of training. The beach was empty, but the paths were full of joggers, dog walkers, and parents putting Christmas present tricycles together. Despite the 40F temps, people wanted to be outside. Outdoorsy-ness: something I love about Seattle.

There are two reasons I began outdoor training in January. First, when it comes to training, $3 per swim is the most I’ll happily pay (my entire training costs in NYC for MIMS last year didn’t break $210 dollars), and there is so much free open water here to be had in Seattle. Second, the water temperatures, while cold, are consistent. The Puget Sound was 46F in January and will be 55F in August. What better cold water environment could you ask for than one that has such a stable temperature range? Beautiful beaches, you say? Check. Consistency: something I love about Seattle.

As planning the swim got into full swim in March, a new side of Seattle showed itself. I’d made a few friends at the beach and as swimmers they were naturally supportive of my plan. What I did not expect was how supportive non-swimmers would be. Surprisingly few Pacific North Westerners have ever asked me: “Are you crazy?” A typical post-swim conversation with passersby goes something like: [stop walking] “How long? … Nice job.” [keep walking]. Compared to reactions I get from people elsewhere, regardless of water temperature (“You mean you actually *want* to swim in that ocean/lake/river?”), well, Seattle just seems to get it. Encouragement: something I love about Seattle.

Seattle, with its outdoorsy, encouraging ways has kept me believing this swim is possible. And planning this swim is what has kept me sane. What really kicked the planning into high gear was a grad school rejection letter2. For nine months, I’d been dreaming of Scripp’s physical oceanography program as a means of redirecting my career away from heavy civil engineering. Also as a means of moving to San Diego. On that Saturday morning, while plying the waters of Alki Beach, I realized the oceanography I want to do is swim planning, and a grad school rejection wasn’t a huge loss. Since then, most of my free time has been spent on a phone or computer or airplane tray table working on this swim. Ubiquitous, cozy cafés: something I love about Seattle.

Seattle was meant to be a stepping stone; it isn’t where I planned on ending up. I’m still transient, I still live in hotels, and I still travel out of town for work every few days, but I’ve surrendered my New York license and I’m slowly accepting the feeling of home I get every time I return here. All of this swimmable water (Puget Sound, Lake Washington, Salish Sea) is so surprisingly underutilized by swimmers, but perhaps it’s this off the-map feel that makes swimming here so exciting. Seattle, I think I love you.

The rest of the story is about the swim itself.

1 Please feel free to verify this. A summary of my research is available on and will be covered in future posts.
2 Who sends rejection letters on a Saturday morning???