I don’t like things touching the front of my neck.
I don’t own turtlenecks.
I don’t wear kerchiefs or fashion scarves around my neck.
When I go to the salon, I ask them to make the drape one
snap looser.
Sometimes I can’t even wear crewneck t-shirts because – you
guessed it – the edge of the shirt barely touches my neck.
When I picked out my wetsuit, I got one with the lowest
neckline I could find. It still touches my neck. Actually, my wetsuit is snug
around my neck. It’s snug around every part of my body. That’s how wetsuits
work.
When I’m wearing my wetsuit and I go from being vertical and
walking into the water to horizontally swimming in it, the discomfort becomes
more intense as going face down puts extra pressure across the front of my
neck. (If past lives are real, I’m pretty sure I either drowned or was
strangled in one of them.) Add in being hit by other swimmers and unable to
find my swimming cadence, and it’s enough to make me panic.
Heading into Ironman Mont Tremblant, I’m
trying to work on this. I don’t want to start this race with a panic attack.
I can’t control how choppy the water is.
I can’t control other swimmers bumping into me.
What I can do is force myself to get used to swimming with
something snug around my neck. (I know some athletes cut their wetsuits to
lower the neckline, but I don’t want to do that.)
My chokers, courtesy of the junior section at Target.
I bought myself a set of five stretchy choker necklaces,
popular among tweens and young teens. I look like a person having a mid-life
crisis when I wear them.
Before I leave the house for the pool, I pull one of these
things on, and I don’t take it off until I’m back. I figure the more I wear it,
the sooner I’ll get over the heebie
jeebies of having something touching my neck.
For my first day wearing a choker to the pool, I opted to
wear the red one so if the feeling of it touching my neck was too much and I
ripped it off mid-lap, I could easily find it in the water and not litter in
the pool.
Thankfully, that didn’t happen. I don’t notice it when I’m
swimming. Once I’m fully used to wearing one necklace, I may try wearing two,
then three, at a time, so I can get used to the material covering more of my
neck.
Hopefully, this exercise will teach me that I can have something snug against my neck without feeling like I’m choking myself.
Arizona
has joined the number of states that has proposed legislation that would ban
male-to-female transgender athletes from competing in female sports unless
they have a doctor’s note that proves that they’re female. This law would
impact athletes at every from level from K-12 schools to community colleges and
state universities.
Photo by Ted Eytan from Flickr (Creative Commons License)
Why
We’re Having This Debate
The
surge of proposed laws followed news stories last year where a female track and
field athlete claimed that male-to-female transgender athletes were unfairly allowed
to compete in the girls’ division. The trans athletes finished a race higher than
she did, which she claimed cost her the opportunity to compete at the regional
race, which could impact her ability to get a college scholarship.
What
I didn’t like about the reporting of this story is that most reports didn’t
state whether the trans athletes were on hormone blockers and/or on hormone
replacement therapy which would have made it a more level field than a
cisgender male competing in a female sport. By the way, they’re
both on hormones replacement therapy.
School Athletics May be the Only Option
My
first thought when I heard about this proposed law in Arizona, was that trans athletes
should bypass political issues in school and compete on club teams. A teacher
friend pointed out that club teams are often very expensive, so the only option
to participate in sports is to play on a school team.
Is
It Talent or Testosterone?
Transgender
girls are girls. They should be allowed to participate in girls’ activities,
whether we are talking about Girl Scouts, entering a nunnery, or playing
sports. Forcing a transgender girl to participate in boys’ activities or be left
out is discriminatory and potentially devastating to her mental health.
In
the situation of athletics, I wonder how much of is this outcry based on
fairness and how much is based on transphobia. Are girls afraid of being beaten
by someone they view as less than a girl?
It’s
worth asking how much of these trans athletes’ success is based on talent or
testosterone. History suggests that cisgender men have physical advantages over
women in many sports. In looking at Olympic Records where men and women both
compete in same types of events (e.g., track and field, weightlifting, etc.)
the record held by the man is higher, faster, better than the women’s record. That’s
why we created Title
IX – to give women equal access to participate. But once a trans athlete
has the same hormone level as their cisgender counterparts, I wonder if the
cisgender athletes are claiming it’s unfair, but they’re using the competitions’
trans status to complain that they didn’t win.
It’s
Time to Re-Examine Division in Sports
It’s
time we re-examine how we divide participants in sports. With growing
acceptance that there are more
than two genders, which is backed by law in at least
17 states and Washington D.C., the traditional division of boys/men and
girls/women is no longer sufficient. I’m a non-binary
athlete (with a birth certificate to prove it), and when I sign up for a
race, I rename the divisions “testosterone†and “estrogen†and select
accordingly.
The
International Olympic Committee (IOC) has guidelines regarding male-to-female athletes
and the testosterone level they must have to compete in the women’s division. Lower
level sports should adopt similar rules and require every athlete to have their
testosterone level checked, and only those with a level above the threshold should
be allowed to participate in the testosterone division.
(A
friend suggested that the athlete’s sensitivity to testosterone should also be
tested for it is possible for a cisgender woman to have a high testosterone
level and body that is completely insensitive to it, so she won’t reap any athletic
benefits from having this higher level.)
Photo by tableatny from Flickr (Creative Commons License)
Where
Change Should Start
In
thinking about this issue, if we want schools to change how athletes are
divided instead of using gender in the U.S., the National Collegiate Athletic
Association (NCAA) should be the leader. If NCAA schools change from men’s and
women’s sport to divisions based on hormones, public and private high schools
will follow suit since many of the best high school athletes aspire to receive
scholarships to compete in college.
I
sent an email to the Chair of the Board
of Directors for NCAA Division I, encouraging them to modify the classification
of athletes instead of using gender identity. I don’t expect a response beyond
a cursory, “Thank you for your message,†but hopefully it will plant a seed
that change is needed.
Sister
Laws for Access to Trans Medical Care
If
states are going to pass laws that will limit male-to-female trans athletes
from participating in sports, they need to a pass sister laws that allow for adequate
and affordable access to medical care for transgender people, including the
ability to access care without parental consent, and laws that allow non-binary
and transgender people to change their birth certificates and driver’s licenses
to reflect their gender.
After a brutal swim at the Half Ironman in Maine last year, I knew I’d be spending part of my off season practicing open water swimming. In the pool, I can see where I’m going, I have my own lane space, and I can put my feet down whenever I want. Open water swimming is the opposite of all that, plus I’m in a wetsuit. Mine has a lower neckline compared to other wetsuits, but it’s snug against my neck, especially when I rotate my body to be parallel to the ground to swim. I always have to remind myself that my wetsuit isn’t strangling me. (I’m really sensitive about things touching my neck.)
I
did the Splash and Dash at Tempe Town Lake a few months ago. It had four race
options:
Swim 1,000 meters, Run 5K
Swim only, 2,000 meters
Swim 2,000 meters, Run 5K
Swim only, 4,000 meters
I
suspect the real purpose of this event is to give the people doing Ironman
Arizona a few weeks later a chance to swim the length in the race (4,000 meters)
in the lake where there’ll be swimming on race day. I signed up for the 2,000-meter,
swim only.
Tempe Town Lake – Image by Dru Bloomfield – At Home in Scottsdale from Flickr (Creative Commons License) – No, I did not get poisoned or super powers from swimming in this water.
I
arrived at the lake at 6:50 a.m., checked in, and strapped my timing chip to
ankle. The air temperature was 58 degrees. The water was 63. The 2,000-meter swim
started at 7:32 a.m. They invited us to jump in a little before race time to “splash
about†and get used to water temperature. Yeah, no thanks. I was only getting
in that water once.
The
race route was a 1,000-meter rectangle. Each person did one, two, or four laps
depending on which event they signed up for. Like Maine, there were kayakers
and paddle boarders throughout the route to help any swimmer who got in
trouble. Shortly after I started swimming – 2:19 according to my Garmin – I grabbed
onto a kayak, trying not to panic. (There’s something about feeling my wetsuit
against my neck coupled with being hit by other swimmers that triggers my “fuck
this†response.)
I
told the friendly volunteer in the kayak, that I was panicking and he asked an
insightful question, “Has this happened before?†That actually helped me calm
down a bit. I took a minute to take some deep breaths and compose myself, and then
continued with the race.
Once,
I calmed down, running into other swimmers wasn’t as big of a deal. After one
collision I remember saying, “Oops, that’s your butt.†The rest of the race
felt pretty good. I worked on my spotting (trying to swim in a straight line by
aiming at landmarks). A good rule is to check your spot every 2 strokes. I was
doing it every 10, because I don’t like how spotting breaks up my cadence.
I
finished the 2,000-meter swim in 45:03, 17 minutes faster than my time at Maine
70.3. The cut-off time for the swim for the full Ironman is 2 hours, 20 minutes
(140 minutes). That’s encouraging to see that I’m on track to have a good swim
at Ironman Mont Tremblant this summer.
I
still need to work on not panicking when I first hit the water. I hope to do a
few more open water group swims before the race.