Channeling his energy!

How can you not enjoy meeting someone like Davis Lee, an individual who is both inspirational and inspired? Articulate, humble, brilliant - he's the ideal interview. But what drives a man to want to tackle the English Channel? It's a simple question, but one that has no easy answer. Below is the unabridged version of my story that ran in the Boston Globe (click here to read the published article).

The Long Swim
Newburyport man attempts to cross the English Channnel

When Newburport's Kate Lee learned she was expecting her second child this spring, she sent her 2-year-old son Oliver to greet his father at the door with a bottle of tequila and a shot glass. Given Davis Lee's plans to swim the English Channel later this month, seven week's before Kate's due date, the couple's friends might wonder if he didn't finish off the entire bottle.

But such recklessness would be far too rash for this 35-year-old nuclear physicist. Lee, a native of Greenwich, Conn., has actually been entertaining thoughts of an English Channel swim for two decades, since he was 14, living in the Bahamas. In a way, much of what he's done since has pointed toward the day that he would tackle the feat.

"Most people think I'm nuts," said Lee recently, between training swims. "It's just something I got in my head. Not many people have done it. Maybe I have something to prove. I don't really know. It's just something that became a goal. Why do people climb Mount Everest? You set a goal, and you do it."

The idea never left him. After Lee secured his doctorate in nuclear science and engineering from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in 2003 and moved to California, his fascination with the Channel took flight. He started swimming off San Diego's La Hoya Cove several times weekly. A chance encounter with another swimmer training for the Channel cemented Lee's ambition.

"That's when it all came together," said Lee. "It just spiraled from there."

Lee immersed himself, literally, in his pastime. In 2005, he contacted the Channel Swimming Association one of two governing bodies overseeing crossing attempts, for details. Two years ago, he and Kate, even as they became parents, agreed to marshal their resources for a Channel swim this fall.

"Pushing myself is a big theme," said Lee. "Physically, you can train yourself to do anything. But there's this massive mental component. I like putting myself in situations where I have to tell myself, 'I'm going to power through this, somehow.'"

Those who know Lee well won't be surprised. This is a man who overcame the challenge of dyslexia to earn his degree in math and physics from the University of Mary Washington in 1998 and his Masters in applied physics from John Hopkins in 2002 before securing his PhD from MIT. He's approached this latest challenge in the same vein – decide on a goal, plot a course, and follow that plan religiously.

"It's one of my big problems," said Lee. "I don't know when to quit."

A strict adherence to training over the past 18 months has Lee in ideal shape for his Channel adventure. Stocky by nature, Lee now has 190 pounds hung on his muscular 5-foot-9 frame. In July, he tamed the Kingdom Swim, a 10-mile race across Lake Memphremagog in northern Vermont, in 4½ hours. Last month, Lee entered the Boston Light Swim, an eight-mile race from Little Brewster Lighthouse to South Boston, for the second year running, and shaved 44 minutes from his 2009 effort, finishing under three hours.

"Davis is definitely ready. If anything, I've had to hold him back," said his coach, Andrew Soracco. "He's pretty amazing."

He'll have to be. The English Channel crossing is no small task. The 21-mile gap between Dover, England, and Calais, France, has played its siren song to swimmers for more than 135 years, ever since Captain Matthew Webb first completed an official, observed crossing on Aug. 25, 1975, in 21 hours, 45 minutes. However, due to tides and currents, Channel swimmers are typically forced to take a more roundabout line. Lee can expect to swim at least 30 miles in a large "S" formation, said Soracco.

Still, there are very real dangers. Lee, claiming he's not averse to risks (although he has put his sky-diving hobby on hold for the past 18 months), nonetheless employs his analytical approach to minimize them. "I like to know as many variables as possible," he said, sounding every bit like the nuclear physicist who works for Axcelis in Beverly.

"Everything in my make-up says I'm in the low probability side of the equation. I'm relatively young. I'm fit. I've really put in my time training. I've conditioned myself to the cold water."

Lee's chief concerns are water temperatures, changing water conditions, the distance, and stress.

"Physically, probably the most important thing is being able to withstand the cold water," said Soracco. "The channel averages between 55-56 degrees. If you can't keep your core temperature up, you're going to go hypothermic. That's the number one safety concern."

Lee estimates his body fat percentage is "somewhere between 12 and 18 percent," but he's not worried. After his tune-up at the Boston Light race, and a required 6-hour practice swim in late August, Lee and Soracco both deemed the swimmer Channel worthy.

"If I could magically be in England and swim tomorrow, I'd happily take the day off and just go do it," he said. "I don't have any anxiety or fear about it. I'm just eager to go.

Soracco also knows that conditions can change dramatically during the brief window when swimmers leave Shakespeare Beach. "The day Sybil swam, the Channel was like a washing machine," he said. "The first four, five hours, she fought to get her rhythm. The waves would come up and roll her over when she tried to take a breath. It was really harsh. The day after, it was as smooth as glass. I couldn't believe it was the same body of water."

Consequently, mental toughness is often the swimmer's greatest asset. And Lee has that trait in spades. "You have to have the mental capacity to keep everything together, and to keep moving," Soracco said. "The real draw is the risk, and overcoming the risk. It's so easy just to bag it. People quit, even though they certainly could have made it. Most people are their own worst enemy. They cave."

"Davis is almost supernatural. He never seems to falter. He never seems to have any doubt, at all," he said. "This guy is set. I'm just trying to keep him healthy. But mentally, he's unstoppable."

Unlike San Diego, where seal and shark sightings aren't uncommon, there are few "natural" dangers in the Channel, other than jellyfish. "The biggest hazard is the shipping traffic, which is ridiculous," said Lee.

"You're really trusting the Channel federation guys to know their route and know the boat traffic and let everyone know we're there," Soracco said. "Those tankers, they don't even see you. Those things are immense."

Kate, meanwhile, admits she knew exactly what she was getting into when she embarked on a life with Lee. "I actually asked him to marry me," she said. "When I met Davis, I knew this type of adventure, doing something that some people might consider out of the ordinary, that was him. To take away his ability to do any of that would be to take away Davis. It would have been signing up to be with someone else."

"People keep asking whether I am nervous, but I'm not. Both Davis and I grew up on the ocean. We both have a deep respect for the ocean, and having that understanding and respect for the ocean really makes me comfortable with him doing it."

She may not see her husband swim firsthand, though. She'll be seven months pregnant by late September, and she doesn't want to be a distraction on the pilot boat. If not, she and Oliver will be waiting in Calais. "I want all of Davis's concentration and energy to be focused on the swim," she said. "Even if I'm totally fine, I don't want people to be concerned about me on the boat. I want them all to be focused on Davis."

Concentration is key. While fewer than 1,200 swimmers have made crossing, thousands have failed.

"I want to finish, first and foremost," Lee said. "Assuming I do that, I would like to do it under 12 hours, and I would be ecstatic with a time under 10 hours."

Lee said he's not sure if he's prepared for the San Andreas-type shift that his life will take once he completes the crossing. There's the young family's new addition, a daughter, due to arrive on Nov. 14, to consider. Plus, the family bank account will need time to recover (Lee estimates the swim, from start to finish, will cost between $15,000 and $20,000).

"It'll be weird when it's all over, just because so much of our life has been focused on the swim for so long," said Kate Lee. "But so much of our life has been focused on this for so long that we're also excited for it to finally happen."

As for the immediate future, there's likely to be a glass of champagne, or maybe a shot of tequila, to be shared on the shores of northern France.

To follow Lee's Channel adventures, visit his web site at SharkyTreat.com, or his blog at sharkytreat.blogspot.com.

FINIS

Sidebar 1
In the boat

Davis Lee won't be adrift alone when he attempts to cross the English Channel.

For safety, and verification, every official Channel swimmer must hire a pilot boat. Lee rented a boat from the Channel Swimming & Piloting Federation, the second of two sanctioning groups, to escort him through the Strait of Dover. Typically, the boat is a 35- to 40-foot fishing vessel, and the pilot helps navigate the waters, communicates with other boats, and often provides "encouragement."

Lee's coach Andrew Soracco said he'll play second fiddle to pilot Lance Oram in the cheerleading department. In 2003, Soracco took another swimmer, Sybil Fisher, to the Channel. Oram's father, Michael, was the pilot, and he didn't mince words when Fisher faltered in the heavy chop.

"His basic concept is, 'If you've got enough energy to complain, you've got enough energy to keep swimming. So, shut up and swim!' That's his motto," said Soracco. "Now we've got his son, Lance, and they share the same philosophy."

Meanwhile, Soracco will concentrate on keeping Lee's engine running. To fuel his Channel effort, Lee will rely on training drinks and energy gels, plus the occasional banana. Soracco will prepare a regimen of drinks and gels (and bananas) that he'll relay to Lee by way of a Tupperware container duct-taped to a rope.

"It's really high tech," said Soracco, laughing. "We spared no expense."

Competitive swimmers, on average, burn between 800 and 900 calories an hour, said Soracco. Open-water swimmers, who must also generate heat to combat the cold, consume more than 1,100 calories an hour, meaning Lee can expect to expend more than 11,000 calories during his effort. That's especially important since English Channel crossing rules don't permit wetsuits.

Still, those limitations don't faze Lee. "I'm a purist," he said. "I'll wear a swimsuit, cap, and goggles. That's it. Those are the rules. A wetsuit doesn't count. I plan to abide by those rules."

Sidebar 2
Big Red Numbers

2 – Number of sanctioning bodies that govern "official" Channel crossings, the Channel Swimming & Piloting Federation and the Channel Swimming Association.
43 – Number of crossings by the Queen of the Channel, Alison Streeter (United Kingdom)
34 – Number of crossings by the King of the Channel, Kevin Murphy (United Kingdom)
6:57:50 – Time (in hours, minutes, and seconds) of the fastest recorded solo crossing, by Petar Stoychev (Bulgaria) in 2007
7:25 – Time (in hours and minutes) of the fastest recorded solo female crossing, by Yvetta Hlavacova (Czech Republic) in 2006
26:50 – Time (in hours and minutes) of the longest solo crossing, by Henry Sullivan (United States) in 1923
70 years, 4 days – Age of the oldest man to cross, George Brunstad (United States, in a time of 15:59)
60 years, 10 months, 4 days – Age of the oldest woman to cross, Linda Ashmore (United Kingdom, in a time of 15:11)
11 years, 11 months – Age of the youngest person to cross, Thomas Gregory (United Kingdom, in a time of 11:54)
12 years, 118 days – Age of the youngest girl to cross, Samatha Druce (United Kingdom, in a time of 15:27)
Source: The Channel Swimming & Piloting Federation (channelswimming.net)

Everyday epics!

Today's "revelations" about disgraced pro cyclist Floyd Landis and his overdue doping admissions got me thinking about a popular topic of mine, which is: We spend far too much time and energy (and ink) on "celebrity" athletes, and not nearly enough on everyday athletes. People like you and me! About a dozen years ago, when I first jumped into the freelance biz full-time, I did some work for a magazine called Outdoor Explorer. It was a first-rate publication, with a great tag line: "Real Adventure for Real People." Unfortunately, Outdoor Explorer didn't realize enough of a profit, and was sadly relegated to the scrap heap. But I've always loved the idea that people, while enjoying the vicarious thrill of reading about Mount Everest and other far-flung adventures, also really appreciate stories about events they can actually do themselves. Luckily, my good friend and editor Brian Cook at Pace Communications allowed me to do this piece for Toyota Connections magazine.

"Me Against Me"
For weekend athletes yearning to put body and spirit to the test like never before, it may be time to consider an “everyday epic”

I hear the finish line before I see it. A thick fog shrouds the rocky summit of New Hampshire’s 6,288-foot Mount Washington, the Northeast’s highest peak. I’ve been pedaling my bike, uphill, nonstop, through horizontal rain and nasty winds, for two hours, and my oxygen-depleted brain is wandering into dangerous places. Most of the 600 competitors in the annual Auto Road Hillclimb have finished, and many were on the roadside, cheering on the stragglers—like me.

With a final, excruciating sprint up a 22 percent incline over the last 100 yards, I teeter across the line. My wife, Lauri, and my two girls run to greet me. Eight-year-old Maddi flings her arms around my neck with unmitigated joy, while 6-year-old Brynne, worried that I'd been blown off the mountain, bursts into tears.

Those starkly incongruous reactions are a microcosm of my day, the perfect mix of pain and pleasure.

I’ve knocked off another task on my “Life’s ‘To Do’ List” and, now that it’s done, the accomplishment trumps all the suffering. I pull Brynne close, and tell her, “Don’t worry, honey. Daddy will ride much faster when we come back…next year.”

Lauri looks stunned. She shouldn’t be. This isn’t the first time she’s witnessed my suspect behavior. There was the Flint Hills Death Ride in eastern Kansas: five-plus hours pedaling more than 60 miles under a scorching sun. Or the eight hours of misery slogging through torrential rains and more than 8,000 feet of climbing during the Vermont 50 mountain bike race. Or the shoulder-searing task of The Blackburn Challenge, rowing 20 miles of open ocean around Massachusetts’ Cape Ann.

Each time, I swore I’d never do that to myself again. Inevitably, I do. Probably because I always end the day with a twisted, satisfied smile, and an unmatched sense of exhilaration. That’s what these “everyday epics” can do to people. Which is why you should try one.

Every weekend warrior dreams of a moment in the sun, of overcoming overwhelming obstacles. Whether your personal affliction is paddling, pedaling or running, there are events that will lay bare your fitness, your resolve, even your joie de vivre.

Laura Lavoie of Boulder, Colorado, was a competitive trail runner and mountain bike racer and a veteran of seven off-road marathons when two ruptured discs forced her to undergo spinal fusion surgery. Undaunted, Lavoie’s rehab pointed her to the infamous Leadville 100, a punishing off-road mountain bike race that starts at 10,000 feet, and climbs above 13,000. In the thin air of Colorado’s Rocky Mountains, Lavoie found a renewed focus.

“A few people really wanted to win it, but for the most part, everyone was out there saying ‘We’re going to do this for ourselves,’” says Lavoie, now 38. “For me, it was very much a proving point to say, ‘I can come back and I can do this.’ I don’t have to do it in a way that measures me against anybody else. It just measures me against me, and where I want to be.”

Though often disparaged, the “no pain, no gain” adage has merit. There’s something compelling about putting your body and spirit to the test, to see what their limits might be, and that typically invites suffering. But there’s also the undeniable endorphin rush of taxing your limbs—and surviving intact. The subsequent sense of achievement can be both sublime and spectacular. And addicting.

“These are iconic events,” says 34-year-old Nathan Rafferty, president of SkiUtah and a veteran of Mount Washington and the Leadville 100.

"It’s you against the course, and it’s the same course every year. It’s something you can go back and measure yourself against,” agrees Boston lawyer and cyclist Thomas Durkin. "I always wanted to run a marathon, but couldn’t, and I thought climbing Mount Washington would be the next most miserable thing,” he laughs. “This is a challenge, and for an aging athlete, those get fewer and fewer.”

That explains why almost two-thirds of the Mount Washington field is 40 or older. Durkin, 45 and a father of three boys, had hiked Mount Washington, and even skied the peak’s legendary Tuckerman Ravine. But the Hillclimb presented a unique trial. “Nobody’s getting any gold medals,” he says. “The goal is really to go home and have your kids say, ‘Dad, you kicked tail. While your pals just played 18 holes of golf, you biked up Mount Washington.’”

Need more reasons to try one of these epic events? First, most have a good-cause “beneficiary,” such as the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation for the annual American Birkebeiner cross-country ski marathon in Wisconsin. So there’s the consolation of knowing you’re helping others while you battle fatigue and leg cramps. Second is adventure. Many events are held in spectacular settings, from Vermont’s foliage-dappled hillsides to northern California’s Muir Woods, site of America’s oldest cross-country running race, the Dipsea.

There can also be the “guilty pleasure” draw, racing on trails or terrain that are normally off-limits. The Mount Washington Auto Road, for example, is only open to cyclists on race day in August (and a single practice run in July). Plus, you’ll meet hundreds of new friends who share your particular lunacy.

Finally, these events provide that all-too-elusive element for middle-age athletes: motivation. “They give you a goal for the season,” says Rafferty. “Every time you hop on your bike, you’re thinking, ‘I’d better push myself 10 percent harder, because I know Mount Washington is coming down the pike.’”

Dr. Penny Beach knows. A family physician in Boise, Idaho, the 40-year-old Beach targeted the Race to Robie Creek half-marathon when she decided to return to running. “I’ve never been a couch potato, but I was in less-than-ideal shape after I had my second child” she says. “Having an event as a goal definitely makes it much easier to train.” Not surprisingly, Beach strongly advocates pre-regimen physicals, heart-rate monitors and training partners for anyone looking to resume a more active lifestyle.

Ultimately, it’s all about having fun, and a chance to learn something about ourselves. That’s why I’m going back to Mount Washington this summer.

FINIS