Clown pants or the boob-smasher?

I own two wetsuits.

Actually, three. One for SCUBA diving, but you can't swim in those, so I'm not counting it.

The first one is the wetsuit that Team In Training issued me last year when I signed up to do Malibu.

The second one is TYR Hurricane Cat 1 that I bought with a team discount (courtesy of the Pasadena Triathlon), because I'd gotten a decent tax refund and it seemed like a good idea.

I spent most of last year using the TNT wetsuit for the main reason that I have boobs, and the TYR wetsuits aren't really cut for women who have much over an A-cup (and even that's probably pushing it). Imagine trying to swim with two softballs strapped to your chest, so tightly that you can't breathe, and that was my TYR experience.

So, instead of having the chest-mash going on, I used the TNT wetsuit, which, since I was between sizes and ordered one up, was always nice and comfy, if a bit loose.

Which was great, and worked for me quite well.

Until this last week, when the ocean here in Los Angeles just warmed up enough to finally start some of the organized ocean swims.

I pulled out my trusty comfy TNT wetsuit, took it to the shore, and pulled it on,  only to have it be too big - and not a little bit too big, either.

It was like wearing neoprene clown pants. I jumped into the water and felt like I was wearing hip waders. When I exited the surf, the suit was hanging off my shoulders, with the torso and legs loose and full of water, which was sloshing around since the ankles were tight enough to keep it all in.

Passersby were pointing and laughing, as were my swim buddies.

So, yesterday morning I dragged out the boob-masher.

It fits much better, almost everywhere. Legs? Good. Arms? Good. Abdomen? Good? Boobs? Bad. So, so bad. Neck? Gaping open, probably because the suit was straining to contain the girls.

So I dove into the surf, and about 10,000 gallons of water rushed into the loose neck of the suit, thus increasing the 'pressing on the chest' feeling, just when the waves started coming so fast that I couldn't get a breath in between them.

So I started to hyperventilate, and then I started to panic.

Panic + Ocean = super bad.

I got enough of my wits about me to turn around and stagger back to shore. Once I got there, I waved the swim group on, since they were waiting for me.

After some fiddling with the neck, I managed to get to where I could dive under the waves without so much water entering - thus alleviating the 'boulder on the chest' feeling. I never got past the surf because I was too busy trying to get the suit adjusted, but I think I finally got it dialed in.

Friday is the next organized ocean swim, so we'll see how it does. I currently can't afford to buy another wetsuit, so I'm going to have to make this one work.

My Achilles Heel

So the soreness in my left Achilles tendon escalated during Sunday's race, and when I went to the doctor Monday, he gave me the bad news that it's now full-blown tendinitis, and told me very firmly that there is to be no running of any sort in my life for at least the next four weeks. 

Which is fine, there's still biking and swimming - except that Tuesday, when I got in the pool and tried to do a flutter kick, the tendon hurt when it contracted, so now - no kicking, either.

Except that I won't give up swimming. I just won't.  You can't make me.

I figured I'd just use the pull buoy and still manage to get some swim work in - which was fine on Tuesday. Tuesday's workout is very drill-heavy and focused on form, so I really got a chance to pay attention to my catch and pull.

Today, however, was the masters workout with the Sadist (and yet he looks so normal), and true to his reputation, it was 2200 meters of speed work.

All of which I did with the pull buoy.

I can still feel my arms, but I kind of wish I couldn't.

The upside is that after a month of this, I'm going to be super ripped! Yay!