Swimming — The Sport Ted Refused to Let Beat Him

Ted Epstein had striking light blue eyes — the kind most people never noticed because they were usually hidden behind thick glasses. And those glasses were exactly why swimming terrified him.

But triathlons don’t care about fears.

When Ted signed up for a quarter triathlon in Colorado, he discovered an inconvenient detail: the first leg was swimming. Since he refused to put his face in the water and risk losing his glasses, Ted invented his own solution. He “swam” by standing upright in the shallow end and running back and forth through the water for the required laps.

The judges, stunned but amused, allowed it.

They changed the rules the following year.

Learning to Swim — the Hard Way

Ted became fascinated with the idea of open-water swimming, especially the legendary Manhattan Island Swim around all five boroughs of New York City. Determined to learn, he enrolled in a beginner “guppy” swim class.

He failed.

So Ted did what Ted always did — he tried again, this time with an Olympic-level swim coach. He learned to use goggles instead of glasses and slowly began building real swimming skills.

But Ted never did anything the normal way.

The Bear Grease Experiment

To train for cold water, Ted bought a tight black wetsuit. Then he decided that wasn’t enough.

His logic: if marine mammals use fat for insulation, why not him?

So he coated himself in bear grease — yes, actual bear grease — before putting on the wetsuit, believing it would trap extra heat. The grease was purchased by Elizabeth from the famous Flagstaff House restaurant in Boulder, known for exotic Colorado specialties.

Practice day came at White Sands Lake near Denver. Families watched as what looked like a sea creature emerged from the shore: Ted, wobbling toward the water in a black wetsuit, goggles, and comically long black swim fins.

Vivian relaxed under a shade tree, reading her book and occasionally checking the lake to make sure Ted was still moving.

After an hour, he returned.

Then the screaming started.

Red ants had crawled into the towel lying in the sand. When Vivian wrapped it around Ted, the ants marched straight under the wetsuit — where they discovered a paradise of bear grease. They bit relentlessly.

Ted danced, shrieked, and flailed on the beach, covered in painful red welts.

Training, in Ted’s world, was never simple.

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The Manhattan Island Swim — June 1985

By the time Ted reached New York, he was ready — or at least as ready as Ted ever was.

He lined up with gamma globulin and tetanus shots already in his system, just in case. The water was filthy. He was hit by floating debris — pizza crusts, trash, and worse. A safety boat shadowed each swimmer.

Midway through the swim, Ted suddenly felt himself being dragged sideways toward a massive dark structure. Fighting with everything he had, he tried to swim clear.

It wasn’t a ship.

It was a New York City sanitation intake grate — giant metal jaws sucking in garbage… and almost Ted.

His safety crew yanked him away just in time. Despite leg injuries from being struck by debris and a 300-meter penalty for receiving assistance, Ted finished the full 20-mile swim around Manhattan.

The Finish Line Fiasco

The organizers wanted a triumphant finish. Ted was supposed to climb into their small boat packed with cameras and equipment.

There was just one problem.

Ted was still slick — either from leftover bear grease or Manhattan’s finest harbor slime.

The husband tried to pull him in. Slipped.

The wife joined to help. Slipped.

Too much weight tipped to one side…

Boat, cameras, and both organizers flipped into the water.

They ended up in the hospital for their own shots.

Ted ended up with pneumonia.

And somehow, to him, it was all worth it.

Because Ted didn’t swim to be comfortable.
He swam to prove he could go where fear said he couldn’t.

And like always — he went anyway.