2009 Done - Can't wait for 2010!!!!

First off, on behalf of Marjorie Lang, Mark Pasdon, Emma Cornfield, Paul Fixler and JP-Enders-Fein who swam as well as Ryan Prendergast, Lia Schlichthernlein, Donna Mann, and Mickey Mann who provided valuable kayak support, we want to graciously thank everyone for their generous donations!

That being said, this year's event was, without a doubt, the best of the four in which I have participated.  The water temperature was beautiful, the sun was amazing, the support was perfect, and the actual experience in the water was second to none.  I admit, the night before everyone becomes quite anxious.  Have I trained enough?  Have I consumed enough carbs to get me across?  Am I ready?

I'd love to say that this feeling goes away the morning of the swim, but it doesn't.  We all woke up.  We all drove to the starting point.  We got there quite early in order to have a couple of moments to relax, complain, and hydrate (once you get in the water - it is tough to hydrate so you have to be more than prepared).  In the blink of an eye we are wisked off into waiting school buses for the ride over the Tappan Zee Bridge to Nyack.   Upon arrival, you suck down an energy bar, put on your swim cap, and you're quickly set free to begin the swim.  You go from being surrounded by lots of people to being alone in the water. 

Swimming is an interesting activity.  I've climbed, run marathons, and skiied.  I've actually participated in just about every single "adventure" sport there is.  Swimming is different.  Despite all of the kayak support around to keep everyone safe, which provides wonderful peace of mind, swimming is a very solitary activity.  There is no chatting, no cheering, no iPod, no audience.  Everyone is totally alone to "sink or swim," pardon the pun, during this event.

Throughtout the duration of the 3.5 miles in the water your mind wanders.  You develop strategies to manage the relentless drone of each stroke.  You look for signs of progress.  You spot things on shore and make yourself believe you are getting closer.  A glance at your watch reveals you have only been swimming for 30 minutes.  You look back and realize you are closer to the start than the finish.  Time moves slowly.

At a certain point, the end is in sight and you summon the energy and strength to swim faster.  You gain a confidence that you ARE going to finish.  You get closer and closer and the silence of your journey is overcome by the sounds of the gallery cheering on shore.  You breath easier, you relax, you enjoy your success.   The first steps onto the beach are difficult but you manage.  You are sucked into the crowd and your isolation and individual struggle is no longer.  It is an amazing feeling.

The week prior to the swim, while traveling, my cell phone rang.  On the other end was my father who told me the story of a remarkable man who had just succumbed to Leukemia.  My father was a bit shaken due to the suddenness of the event.  A week or so after the event, an employee of Oxygen Electronics who is based in France, gave me a call to tell me about his girlfriend who currently undergoing Chemotherapy treatment in her battle against Leukemia.  I am always amazed how pervasive these diseases are and I'm alway appreciative that I have the physical wherewithall to continue to participate in this event.

I can only imagine that the struggle and the battle against these diseases parallels in some sense the Hudson River Swim.  Getting swept into a powerful river and taking stroke after stroke after stroke in an effort to get to the other side.  Fighting the current seemingly alone.  Discovering the massive network of silent support offered by the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. 

In these violent and turbulent times, it is reassuring to witness the humanity of mankind and the overwhelming support provided, even when you feel totally alone, by strangers!