I swim in places that weren't designed for swimming.
The triathlon is three sports; swimming is the one that's mine. Third out of 1,600 athletes in the water, then a long day of biking and running to survive. I grew up in Northern Michigan — racing there felt less like traveling to a competition and more like returning to something I'd been training for my whole life without knowing it.
My first time in the Hudson. Salty, a little dirty, one of the most memorable things I've done in New York. I moved here without knowing how long I'd stay. Swimming to the Statue of Liberty felt like a way of saying I made it.
Six miles is where open water stops being a race and starts being a negotiation with yourself. The Schuylkill is flat and deceptively calm — the kind of water that lulls you into a rhythm and then punishes you for losing focus at mile four.
For anyone who grew up in Michigan, the bridge is the thing. You've driven over it your whole life. What stays with me is the scale — those massive concrete foundations disappear into the dark below you. You feel very small and very stubborn at the same time.