Well, the time is just about here. As many of you know, tomorrow I will be competing in the last (and longest) race of my swimming career. I'm sure I'll swim in many more "races" in my life, but this one will be the last time I take it seriously as a professional competition.
Last year I missed out, just barely, on making the Olympic team going to Rio. Say what you will about the water quality or Zika virus or doped Russians, but making that team was important to me - it was supposed to be my opportunity to prove my full potential after a 2012 Olympics ruined by an injury, and a couple of ensuing slump years. Thus, it was a devastating disappointment for me when I didn't make it, the consequences of which have been unexpected and long-lasting.
Being an elite athlete requires a certain type of tunnel vision to protect your focus and your confidence. You have a plan for success and you don't, or simply cannot, contemplate a plan B until you're forced to. So last year as I considered retiring after World Championships marked the first time I was really faced with the impending reality of life after swimming. But had an unshakable feeling that before I could step away from the sport with peace and without regret, my story needed a closing chapter. It still had the feeling of an unfinished book, plus I knew I was at or very near the best physical shape I had been in my life.
There was a common thread in my conversations with a few close friends and mentors about their own retirement from the sport, as I asked their advice. And that was that if you choose to continue, do it for yourself - not for money, for your parents or your coach, or for medals or notoriety - and when it really is time to stop, every fiber of your being will tell you it is so.
It soon became obvious to me that the unwritten chapter was Lac St-Jean, and that the journey of preparing for and competing in this epic race would give my career the meaningful and fitting end that it deserves. The first time I touched this lake was in 2010 when Roberval hosted the Open Water World Championships and I won the 25km that year. I was in great company with Fran, Paul, Emily, Eva, and Jack and the rest of our team, it was a great start to my career after college and was undoubtedly one of the happiest times of my life as I was beginning a great adventure.
After a great swim in the 25k, the organizers of the 32km Traversee invited me to stay an extra week to compete in the event, which I declined. I had another important 10k race a month later, and at the time I was pretty unaware of the historical and local significance of this race, as well as how important it was to Paul, who won here three times in '80, '83, and '89. However, as I learned more about the race over the ensuing years, I became increasingly regretful that I gave up the opportunity to compete in it and it's since been a major bucket list item for me. This year's race is the 62nd edition of the event, and the people that live here are so proud of this race that they host and it's become a hugely important part of this small town's local identity and tradition. Last night the entire community came out for the "Souper dans les rues", the "dinner in the streets" - folding tables were placed end-to-end for about a kilometer on the main street downtown and the whole town ate dinner together. People here love open water swimming, despite the often frigid temperatures of the lake. Someone even told me that people around here have named their own children after winners of the Traversee! But as much as I can tell you about it, for anyone to really understand what a special event this is (including myself), you really have to experience it first-hand. I'm so glad to be here.
I've been known to collect things from my swimming travels (I have a mug problem), and for a while I picked up a postcard from every place I traveled. The one from Lac St-Jean has hung in my lockers (photo attached) in Cambridge and in Knoxville for six years.
I should also note that before I got to Roberval last week, I spent two weeks at Camp Chikopi in Magnetawan, Ontario a few hours north of Toronto. My high school coach Roy brought a few teammates and me to Chikopi in 2002 when I was 14. The camp was founded in 1920 by Matt Mann (legendary Michigan swim coach), Roy was a camper there as a kid and also came up for the first week to be my designated paddler. Most of my summer camp experience was at Chingachgook on Lake George, but I had fond memories of Chikopi as well and I decided to spend some time there because it was an ideal training environment and was also close to my heart and my story. The first real open water race I ever swam in was the 4km Ahmic Harbor Swim during my stay there in 2002, and that win definitely lit a fire for me. I got some great training in, and just as importantly had a lot of fun with the approximately 45 campers and counselors that were there. I helped coach the swim practices every day, was on the giving and receiving end of some epic pranks, fell out of a war canoe, broke the Chikopi Mile record, enjoyed a storytelling by the campfire almost every night, and made fun and meaningful connections with some young people that I will remember forever. Chikopi really is a special place, rich in tradition, and I'm glad I chose to spend some time there and am thankful to Bob and Colette Duenkel for allowing me to stay. I'm also attaching a photo of the "pool" at camp, though I did most of my training in the rest of the lake.
I wanted to share this quote with you all, and really did consider pretending that I was just casually reading a collection of James Baldwin's essays and just happened upon it. But, most of you that know me well would have called my bluff. So in reality, my friend Rob Sleamaker shared this with me a few months ago, and while Mr. Baldwin was actually talking about racial integration in schools, it feels appropriately aligned with the current/imminent paradigm shift in my own personal and professional life.
"Any real change implies the break-up of the world as one has always known it, the loss of all that gave one identity, the end of safety. And at such a moment, unable to see and not daring to imagine what the future will now bring forth, one clings to what one knew, or thought one knew. To what one possessed or dreamed that one possessed. Yet, it is only when a man is able, without bitterness or self-pity, to surrender a dream he has long cherished or a privilege he has long possessed, that he is set free - he has set himself free - for higher dreams, for greater privileges. All men have gone through this, go through it, each according to his degree, throughout their lives. It is one of the irreducible facts of life."
I'll take this opportunity to let you all know that I recently accepted a position with an obstacle course racing event company called Spartan Race based in Boston, MA. My position will be Race Project Manager starting 9/1 and I'll be part of a team doing the advanced planning for some of the races in the US. In total, Spartan has over 100 races around the world each year. I'm totally pumped about it and really look forward to what I expect to be a fun and valuable learning experience. Knoxville has been great to me for the past almost two years and I'll never forget my time with the Vols, but it will be good to move back to a place that has continued to feel like home to me despite my absence.
Last one, fast one! And as they say in Roberval... bonne chance!
Love,
Alex
Oh yeah...and the race starts at 8am EDT and should be done by 2:30ish. Minor detail.
Alex
