The Back Story

So the story goes something like this: When I checked out of treatment, I decided to set some goals. I had this newfound drive to do something big and the requisite confidence to actually prepare for it. I went from feeling that I was never going to get anywhere to feeling like I could do anything within reason. I wanted to learn to rock climb.

Prior to "rehab," I had begun making some progress in my fitness. I had gotten off the prednisone and methotrexate for my  lung condition (was treated for pulmonary sarcoidosis for over 4 years) and had begun to lose some weight. I had always wanted to learn to rock climb. And almost just as suddenly, I remembered swimming. I was capable of swimming at a pretty high level - I had swam a couple of 5-milers in 2001 and 2003 and had always thought about trying to do that again or even do something longer. So that was it - I was going to become a marathon swimmer.

Luckily, I felt as though I wasn't starting from scratch. I had been training regularly for about a year and was making some progress. I had done my birthday swim (age x 100's) the previous year and would go on to do the same on 2019, and then swim my age x 200 in 2020. I decided I would swim some type of open water solo marathon. Where to go?

The English Channel had been done quite a bit. It's like the Mount Everest of swimming. Drawing this comparison, I had this image of it being over-traveled by the under-qualified (yes, that was a somewhat snobby and misguided attitude - I have come to admire Channel swimmers and it is now one of my primary goals). The English Channel was cold, dirty and full of ship traffic. I wanted something maybe just a little warmer, maybe not quite as long and a bit "cleaner." Upon Googling various marathon swims, I came across tales of the Cook Strait. A degree or 2 warmer and only 16 miles. That sounded like just the ticket for me. I set the goal.

Now, I had this instinct that I was experiencing a somewhat euphoric state that is sometimes referred to as a Pink Cloud. It frequently occurs in early recovery, and I wasn't totally oblivious to this. So in spite of, or may because of this realization, I wanted to start telling people that I was going to do this - swim the Cook Strait. I feared that otherwise, if I didn't announce my intention to others, I would think better of it in a few weeks or months and decide it wasn't such a good idea. So despite whatever the condition that may have been clouding my judgment, I'm glad I did it. I do indeed think that I would've thought better of such an ambitious goal after a few weeks or months if I had kept it a secret.

And so, 4 and a half years later, "The Cook" is still the ultimate goal (just ask anyone who knows me). It ends up that it can't really be categorized as "a little shorter and a little warmer" than the English Channel. Apparently, this is one of the most treacherous bodies of water that marathon swimmers encounter. Those who swim it efficiently usually do closer to 18 miles because of the zig-zagging currents, and it seems that it's a lot less predictable than "getting the tides" associated with the Channel. Also, the rules for marathon swims don't allow the participant to touch the boat or receive any other form of aid (speedo, cap and goggles are the only items allowed), but it seems the Cook is the one swim where you can seek refuge on the pilot boat for 10 minutes "if a shark is bothering you." So, I guess that publicly announcing this ambition may have been a bit naive, but I stated it out loud and it has become my obsession  - hence the New Zealand Greenstone, or "pounamu" I wear around my neck.

So the next step in the process, or so I thought, was registering for a slot to swim the Strait. I found the guide that seemed to have the most experience and reached out to him via the "contact" page on his website. No response. A month later, I reached out again. Still nothing. I went about my training and began to speak to others. I ended up connecting with Anthony McCarley - a local guy I had ran into at the Upper Main Line Y once some time ago who had mentioned swimming the Cook Strait recently. Anthony is very kind and generous with his knowledge, and it ends up, he has swam multiple major open water marathons. He noted that Phil Rush is the only guy to navigate the Strait for swimmers. He is the pilot boat, the observer and the ratifying committee rolled into one. Chances are, when he heard from me, he probably searched the Marathon Swims database and couldn't find my name. Turns out, I would need a swim resume.

I'll expand on different benchmarks I've achieved in other posts, but suffice it to say that in the span of over 4 years, I have continued to expand on my swimming achievements. In 2019, I swam a 12k (7.5 miler) race where I finished in 2nd place in Men over 50. In 2020, I completed a 12-mile solo marathon (18k) around Coronado Island. And finally, in 2022, after two attempts, I completed a crossing of the Catalina Channel - a 20.9-mile swim that is only a mile shorter than the English Channel.

I have swam in excess of 1 million meters per year for the past 4 years. I have begun a rewarded side career of coaching others towards achieving their swim goals. I have raised over $12,000 for The Herren Project through my various swims.

Most importantly, I have made connections with so many others as a result of my connection to the water. Many of them are simply other swimmers - some that I coach, and some with whom I share the pool or ocean. Many have become my friends and a few have become among my those I count as my best friends. I have evolved from being an inquisitive, novice outsider in the marathon swimming community to being a respected peer among accomplished swimmers and an advisor to people who are newer to the sport. I have sat down for conversation and coffee with Lynne Cox, one of the most admired and legendary heroes of our sport. I’ve become an instructional colleague and business partner with Dan Simonelli, who is recognized as being one of the most influential and trusted coaches and mentors in the open water community. And most importantly, with the help of my core team of aquatic teatolers, Bill and Rob, I’ve made my mission of the iSwim4 Foundation a reality.

And we intend to keep Paying it Forward.