Iron Mike's Marathon Swims Water, taken in moderation, cannot hurt anyone.

Things you can’t do in sub-zero weather…

January 31, 2015 | Humor, Swimming Anthropology | Permalink

…that you normally do in more agreeable weather.

Went to the pool last week when it was about 14* F outside. As usual, I’d left my swim stuff in the car. My suit was stiff with some white spots on it, and my sandals were frozen shut. I wear Adidas water sandals, the kind with a velcro fastener over the top of the foot.

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I have the familiar Speedo swim bag, and I put both of my sandals in the small “wet” pocket in the bottom front of the bag. That strap over the top of the sandal got squished on both, and when I pulled the sandals out of my bag so I could enter the locker room, I had to pry those straps open. I barely got my toes into the sandals and was walking like a geisha girl into the locker room. Recall, dear reader, that here in the former Soviet Union, one does not enter a locker room with one’s outside shoes on!

So I figured I’d solve this little problem of mine. I lined the back of my Rav4 with cardboard and after the next swim I laid my towel and suit out flat. I put the sandals on there too. At least the towel and suit will freeze-dry flat. Well, here is the result of my equipment sitting in the back of a car in 10* F.

frozen sandals

The towel was pretty stiff, too. Thankfully, by the time you go through the requisite steps of taking off your jacket and hanging it on the hook matching your locker number, taking off your outside shoes and putting them either under your jacket or in a cubby or in a plastic bag, and putting on your swim sandals, your towel and suit are defrosted.

In my occasional series of Swimming Anthropology…

January 29, 2015 | Swimming Anthropology | Permalink

So today I swam a nice comfortable 3000m at Kalipso after my 3800m killer workout a couple days ago. It felt great. I shared the lane with another chap during my warm-up, then he left and I had the lane to myself.

I like the pool. Small, dank, little-to-no supervision. Only two lanes, sure, but rarely full (I just jinxed myself). Sharing the same space/water is a wide “lane” attached to an area like a lagoon. Hard to describe. But it is a shallow area, with a bridge to a hot tub. Some of the noodlers/babushkas hang out over there trying their damnedest not to get their hair wet.

There is a spout underwater over in that shallow area that pushes a huge amount of water out. It points across the two lanes that I swim in. When I hit that current, I have to swim to 1 or 2 o’clock to keep straight. It is really good practice for open water currents.

Well, today I saw something odd. Thus the swimming anthropology designation of this post. A Kyrgyz dude, who was swimming next to me, a serious swimmer I think, judged solely on his using pull buoys and paddles and fins (first seen for me), was using the jet to massage his big old belly. For minutes. Each time I swam by, he’d be moving his belly through the jet, as if that would make it disappear. It reminded me of those scary slo-mo’s on television showing some fat guy running for a beer, waves upon waves rolling over his ample flesh. I finished a couple 300s and then he was gone.

Then, a Kyrgyz junior babushka-in-training stood in front of the spout/jet. She had her bathing suit pulled up her butt-crack and was putting her butt cheeks in front of the jet, as if to massage herself. She did this literally for 15 minutes. I know because of the sets I was doing. And it was hard to miss her as the only other person in the pool at the time and her massaging happening only five feet from me.

She massaged herself that entire time. Each time I passed, she was emphasizing a different buttock and thigh each time. I don’t know if she stopped because the lifeguard turned off the spout or if she has control over the spout. (I haven’t yet checked it out.)

I never saw this in Moscow. Granted, I swam at a serious pool (home of the 1980 Moscow Olympics) and always swam in a center lane. Perhaps I was missing something on the ends, near the powerful spouts? Should I try this aquamassage?

The Story of Toru-Aigyr/Тору-Айгыр

January 26, 2015 | Grand Plan | Permalink

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On the shore of lake Issyk Kul lived a small boy, an orphan, who at birth was named Bakyt, almost in mockery because Bakyt means happiness in Kyrgyz. This boy’s parents died while he was young. He himself expected a quick death from starvation, but a rich neighbor felt for the boy, and, more importantly, wanted the land of his dead parents, so he adopted the boy and sent him to work in the fields of his dead parents.

Bakyt slept with the cattle and ate whatever fell from his adopted father’s table. When Bakyt turned 17, his adopted father gave him a half-dead foal as a gift for all his hard work over the years. All the master horsemen in the village predicted the imminent death of the foal, but Bakyt took care of it and the foal turned out to be a beautiful chestnut pacer horse. Bakyt so impressed his adopted father that he entrusted Bakyt to caring for his large herd of horses.

Bakyt not only protected the herd from blood-thirsty wolves and horse-thieves, but he also trained them for jumping and other equestrian competitions. All of Bakyt’s horses were good horses, but the best of them all was the skally-wag foal he raised. In all competitions, that horse won first place. Bakyt named his horse Toru-Aigyr.

Big money was offered for Toru-Aigyr, but Bakyt refused to sell him. The horse was his friend. Likewise, the horse lived for Bakyt. Toru-Aigyr could identify Bakyt from a great distance. And when his owner was sad, Toru-Aigyr would make him feel better.

One night, a black soul came and knocked Bakyt out with a large club, almost killing him. When he came to, he realized his trusty steed was missing. He searched everywhere for Toru-Aigyr, but could find him nowhere. Bakyt and the villagers realized Toru-Aigyr was gone for good.

Meanwhile, on the other side of lake Issyk Kul, a handsome horse fought for his freedom. The herdsmen on the southern shore of the lake could not keep the horse under control. They decided to hobble the horse, to keep him from escaping. One night, the guards fell asleep, and Toru-Aigyr decided to run north, where he knew his friend Bakyt was. It was hard for him to run because of his legs being hobbled. The guards woke and gave chase, catching up with the horse just as he arrived at the southern shore of the lake. The guards called him back, but Toru-Aigyr ignored them and jumped into the lake.

Toru-Aigyr swam to the northern shore. The swim was difficult for him. The salty water rubbed against his fetters, his muscles ached, waves rolled over him, filling his ears, yet he continued to swim. Finally, with his last effort, Toru-Aigyr reached the shore, giving out a loud neigh, to call out to his friend Bakyt.

Bakyt heard the call of his friend and rushed to the lake, where he found Toru-Aigyr. He wrapped his arms around the neck of the horse, shouting with joy. But the journey was too difficult for Toru-Aigyr, and with two tears running from his beautiful brown eyes, he fell down dead at Bakyt’s feet.

To this day there is a village on the place where the horse died named Toru-Aigyr.

Why do I tell you, dear reader(s), this fairy-tale? I think this might answer your question:

Toru-Aigyr swim route

Toru-Aigyr swim route

Akhmed Anarbayev/ Ахмед Анарбаев

January 21, 2015 | Grand Plan, Swimming Anthropology | Permalink

Ахмед Анарбаев

Ахмед Анарбаев

Learned of this gentleman from our local embassy doctor. He lives somewhere here in Kyrgyzstan (not in Bishkek, as Wikipedia says), and the doctor has promised she’ll introduce me to him the next time he’s in the city.

The exciting part of this is that Mr Anarbayev apparently crossed lake Issyk Kul some years ago in 1982. His route took him 35 kilometers in 11 hours, with a tailwind, in 16C water. I intend on interviewing him so I can get some details, in English, on his accomplishment.

Anarbayev on the left.

Anarbayev on the left.

In 1968, he represented the USSR at the Mexico City Olympics, but didn’t make the finals in the 400 free. In 1970, he improved on his performance with a silver in the European Championships. In 1991, he and some other Kyrgyz swimmers attempted to repeat Lynn Cox’s historic swim from the USSR to Alaska. The water was 6C, and the group were not allowed to swim. In 2001, he took part in a Bering Strait swim.

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He is also the organizer of an annual open water festival at lake Issyk Kul. The tournament consists of a few short events, 50 and 100-free, and a 100 medley. Also there is a 500 meter mass start swim. That should occur in August; if I get to attend, I’ll blog about it!

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500m mass-start from 2014 Issyk Kul swim festival.

 

Issyk Kul!

January 20, 2015 | Grand Plan | Permalink

Went to ski in Kara-Kol this weekend. The greatest part of the trip was our passing the lake. What a beautiful lake. OMG.

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Lake Issyk Kul from west of Cholpon Ata

The lake is just as beautiful as in the pictures. On Monday we stopped at a nice little beach so we could dip our toes in the water. Unbeknownst to me, the Soviet-Korean doctor that accompanied us stripped to a red bikini and jumped into the lake. It was Epiphany, after all.

I didn’t bring my suit, unfortunately. My wife recommended I take off my jeans and jump in. Just as I was taking my belt off, my kids begged me, “Please dad, no.” I guess they didn’t want the 20 others to see their dad in his skivvies.

Cold!

Cold!

Talked with the doctor and compared notes. The doctor agreed the water was above 10C, I’m thinking in the 12-13C range. Not bad for January at 42° north latitude. The lake is purportedly lightly salty, but I didn’t taste any. Water tasted very clean.

The wife and I and 3/4 of our kids at Issyk Kul.

The wife and I and 3/4 of our kids at Issyk Kul.

I learned something new today about lake Issyk Kul, about which I’ll blog tomorrow.

 

Wow! Look at the numbers!

January 14, 2015 | Humor | Permalink

Thanks to all my dear readers. (Notice the -s- is not in parentheses, for once.) The last three days my blog had huge numbers. Well, huge for me. I had 77 views on 11 January, the best in a long time. I haven’t had numbers like that since I live-blogged Diana Nyad on Dancing with the Stars.

I’ve had over 200 views since the 11th. That’s awesome. I know many of my FB friends who read these posts on FB hear from me too many times, begging them to comment or read on the actual blog. Perhaps my delicate proddings (“Comment on my blog, dork!”) were finally heard?!

Found another lake

January 10, 2015 | Uncategorized | Permalink

Had lunch with a buddy of mine on Friday. He’s stationed in Batken, in southern Kyrgyzstan. Batken is nice, beautiful down there. While we were eating, I looked on my phone and found a spot of blue down by my buddy’s house.

There’s a small reservoir to the southwest of Batken, about 4.7km long. I drove by it last October. It was beautiful, very blue. I wanted to stop, but we were late to our appointment, so we decided to wait until the drive back to Batken. When, of course, it was dark and raining. So no picture. Unfortunately.

My buddy said he’d help me arrange it. Perhaps I can get him to kayak for me. What do you say, Bill?

Je suis Charlie

January 8, 2015 | Uncategorized | Permalink

Was too busy at work today to go swim. Sadly.

But today my thoughts are not on swimming. My thoughts are on my French friends and their families after the horrible tragedy at Charlie Hebdo.

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The murders yesterday by those “men” in Paris was cowardly and deplorable. The cartoonists and editors of the satirical magazine had been fire-bombed before, and they bravely said Je ne vais pas prendre votre merde, and continued on. The Chief Editor famously said “I’d rather die standing than live on my knees.” He died yesterday…standing, I imagine.

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It is the test of a good religion whether you can joke about it.*

Bravest man in France, Charlie Hebdo editor/cartoonist Stephane Charbonnier

Bravest man in France, Charlie Hebdo editor/cartoonist Stephane Charbonnier

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С рождеством!

January 7, 2015 | Humor, Swimming Anthropology | Permalink

I know if you've been good or bad. And everything else you've been doing.

I know if you’ve been good or bad. And everything else you’ve been doing.

Today is Christmas for the Orthodox Christians of the world. Thus the Russian greeting in my blog post title. The embassy is closed today, but I can’t not wake up early so I took advantage and went swimming this morning.

Kalipso doesn’t open until 8am, so my waking at 8:15 didn’t bother me any. I figured it would be empty in the pool. Upon arrival at 8:30, I realized how wrong I was. About 4 kids in one lane, and occasionally in the other lane. In that other lane, the one I had my eyes on, was one adult swimmer who looked like he knew about swimming in circles. There was another adult standing at the end of the kid lane, so I thought maybe he was waiting for the kids to leave. After a minute I realized he was coaching some of these kids.

My usual preps done, I walked out and put my equipment at the end of the lane with the other adult. I went over to my lane, and started my swim. For the most part, it went well. I had, at various times, 3-4 (one kid might have actually been two kids) other swimmers in my lane. If the swimmer was an adult, then the lane etiquette went well. If the other swimmer was a kid, anything goes/went.

The kid (or kids?) that spent the most time in the lane did all the things that annoy regular lap swimmers. Stop in the middle of the lane. Hang on the lane line with legs floating up into the travel-path of the lane. Push off from the wall just as you’re flipping and about to start your next lap.

But the 3000m for the most part went well. In the locker room, two kids (probably two of the two or three that swam with me) were mucking about, using their best Russian swear words in front of me, probably thinking I didn’t understand (my knowledge of Russian мат is way better than my knowledge of normal “literate” Russian). I ignored them. Let them have their fun. Then one of them asked me for the time, and even said thanks when I told him. THAT RARELY EVER HAPPENS. I was surprised. Pleasantly. Those kids are alright.

Another good swim

January 6, 2015 | Humor, Swimming Anthropology | Permalink

Got another good swim in today at Kalipso. The water still looks dirty. My white swim caps are becoming less and less white. Unsure what’s in the water, but I’m choosing to ignore it. And just washing my ears out really well and then drinking something that’ll kill the bugs in my stomach. “Who wants to get daddy his Vodka?”

Had a kid join me today who learned swim etiquette the hard way when I swam over him. He deserved it, dear reader(s), fear not, as he pushed off the wall just as I was flipping, and he had fins on as well. He left shortly after. I spent a few laps trying to remember how to say  in Russian “Hey, jackass, don’t push off the wall just as I’m swimming in!” (Эй! Осел! Не прыгай от стены в тот же момент когда я доплаваю до стены! or something like that.) Like I said, he’s lucky he got out of the pool before I could compose that delightful phrase in my head.

Then there was one of the babushkas who decided to cross from her lane over to the steps just as I was kicking off the wall. Swam over her, too. But she survived the Soviet Union and possibly WWII (sorry, I mean, “the Great Patriotic War“), so it probably didn’t even phase her.

I had one other lane-mate swimming with me today and he followed Ye Universal Pool Essential Etiquette and Deportment (YUPEED), and to him I send my thanks.

All in all, a great 3000m day. Got in and out and back to work in less than an hour and a half. Very nice.