On Sunday I made my debut on the stage that is Open Water Swim Racing. After winter basketball finished a few guys from my team, The Savoury Shapes, decided that we should keep getting together on a weekly basis to socialise and be active so the Savoury Shapes Swimming Club was created (actually, I think I kind of just created the name then). We’d get together on a Thursday night, bust out a few k’s in the pool then go for beers and schnitzels to undo any of the health benefits gained in the preceding hour.
One day our spiritual leader, fitness fanatic and fastest swimmer Matt fired an email out proposing an open water swim, there were a few coming up but the biggest one was the Brighton Jetty Classic. Andy and I were sort of keen but hesitant for some reason, probably because we feared being beaten by 12 year old girls. As the day was approaching Matt sent another email, were we in or out? I didn’t want to be a damp squib (or should that be damp squid is this instance?!?) so I put forth an “IN” vote. Andy obviously had to follow suit, but secretly he was hoping I’d be out.
As the date approached it became apparent that we were largely unprepared for the event. We’d not been swimming in the ocean even once and life was pretty hectic in the weeks leading up so our pool time was minimal (although I’m pretty sure Matt was secretly training behind our backs). We managed to get a couple of sessions in in the final week but it’s fair to say we could have prepared a whole lot better.
In all of the build up there was a sort of unspoken rivalry between Andy and myself. We’re extremely evenly matched in the pool, some days he’ll come in slightly ahead, other days it’s reversed – and we’re both pretty competitive guys. He’d hardly seen the pool in the lead up so it’s probably fair to say I had slightly better pool form pre-race, but he had the advantage of a few open water swims from his time the Cayman Islands whereas my ocean swimming was limited to body surfing and scuba diving.
We managed to arrive in plenty of time, scored the Hollywood park of the year, got registered and found our way down to the start of the race. Next thing I knew I was in the water, the starting siren had sounded and it was on like donkey kong. My first thoughts were this is great fun, way more interesting that a pool, and it was, however it was also a lot more difficult that a pool in that it was a windy day and the mini waves and currents were reasonably strong by Adelaide beach standards. Lap swimming allows you to focus on your technique and concentrate on how much effort you’re putting into each lap, ocean swimming doesn’t afford any such luxuries and my efforts were basically entirely spent trying to go in the right direction. The first half of the course was against the current and it felt like it went forever, I managed to swallow a couple of pretty big mouthfuls of water but apart from that I zig zagged my way along the coast without incident. The return leg wasn’t really any easier, I was putting in the same amount of effort, it just went a lot faster.
As I approached the finish line I remembered the final beach sprint, a humiliating 100m dash in budgy smugglers with the whole world looking on. I lost track of Andy 2 seconds after the swim began but thought he might be lurking somewhere looking to snatch victory off me over the sand. As I emerged form the water I saw Matt at the water’s edge shouting encouraging words. First thing I said was “Am I beating Andy?” to which replied “Yep, run it out!”. I took this as meaning Andy was immediately behind me and I needed to give it my all or risk losing my position. I sprinted the sprint of a man who’s not very good at sprinting and is totally exhausted from a big swim and crossed the line before almost passing out. For a few minutes I couldn’t really stand, or speak, or drink water or anything. But at least I’d beaten Andy.
And that’s when it happened.
To my horror I looked over to our entourage to discover Andy just standing there chatting with a towel around his waist. He wasn’t puffed at all. His hair looked dry. He’d. Beaten. Me.
It actually didn’t really bother me, I like the banter associated with being competitive as much as, if not more than, the competition itself. My main aim for the swim was to crack 35 minutes (it was a 1500m course) and not finish last in my category and I achieved both those goals. I was 37th out of 54 which I was chuffed with on debut, and my time of 33 minutes 44 was about what I was hoping for.
So here I was, feeling pretty good about myself, reading the names of the 17 men aged 30-39 who completed the course in a time slower than myself when everything came crashing down around me. I made the mistake of looking at the times of the junior swimmers. In particular the junior girls. Had I competed in the 12-13 year old girls race I would have been the 22nd competitor, and I would have finished……. 22nd. Ditto for the 14-15 year olds, dead last out of 17.
It just goes to show that no matter how good you are at something there’s always someone better. And they’re probably only 12 years old.
Because every blog is better with a photo here’s one I took on my iPhone the other night from right outside my front door.
PS – As a side story the aforementioned fitness freak and swim guru Matt completed the course in 25 minutes which would have put him in the lower 50% of 12-13 year old girls. As we all enjoyed a hearty meal afterward I asked him jokingly whether he’d been for a run that morning. “Yeah, just a short one, only 7 or 8 k’s”. Andy finished almost 2 minutes ahead of me, but it was his birthday so HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANDY, your gift is me letting you win!
