Now at the time, I declined. I had never in my life swum further than 5km (and that was only just recently) during the Seli Shipwreck race. And before that, I considered a 3km swim a “beast” of a swim. Besides which, I was officially not doing any swim training for a year. Teased, tortured and tempted, I sent my reply: “thanks, but no thanks”. Sure, I had aspirations maybe and dreams of doing long swims… but not today. Not this week, or this month. Maybe at the end of 2012?

Fast forward, yet again; this time a couple more weeks, and I was suddenly faced with a weekend without any races or marathon training sessions planned. So my wife suggested I do the Lighthouse swim…

BOOM!

My head exploded, my heart started racing. “You think?”, was all I could reply. Needless to say I was distracted for the rest of that afternoon. As intimidated as I was by the thought of going in unprepared, I knew deep down inside me: I just have to do this. 10.5km of open ocean swimming goodness. I enquired if I could, Derrick said “Yes” and that was it, I was committed. I now had 3 days to wrap my head around it. 3 days…

A little background on my swim training to date. In the last 50+ weeks, I made the effort to jump in the pool for a swim set on 4 different occasions. 2, 2.5km at most each time. And I died each time- especially on the sprints (swimmers will know what I’m talking about here). I carried on racing though- and regularly took part in cold water swims- but with my wetsuit on. I did 1 non-wetsuit swim in fresh water at SA Masters Championships (warm water)- and it hurt, but still managed 46 minutes (ironically, very close to my PB for that distance). What was keeping me going, and it’s my theory, was paddling: surfski and K1- oh, and a healthy dose of multisport… Movescount diary

But back to the Lighthouse swim….

I sent @PhilSwim an email: “Help. Swimming a marathon- what, how, when do I feed?” Phil was ever super helpful and shared what he had tried over several of his races and what worked for him. I took his lead on that since I had nothing of my own to go on and setup my feeding strategy accordingly:
5 small bottles of liquid, ±300ml (borrowed the kids’ juice bottles) with some gels and another juice of sorts to wash the salt out my mouth. The aim: finish as much of the juice as possible. The small bottles helped me gauge just how much I was drinking on each feed. Don’t be scared of the gels either. For the saltiness: always, coca-cola

By the night before the race, I had finally wrapped my head around the thought of swimming 10.5km in 13/14 degree water, even in a wetsuit. I reckoned I would be between 2 and 2.5 hours, my racing mind was banking on sub 2 hours though. Yip, my racing soul knows only one thing: go out, and go out hard, then hang on for the finish. This race is yours to win. It’s quite simple, really. Doesn’t matter what or where I race, I have a default setting that’s broken (or fixed, depending on how you see it

Morning of the race, I cycled to the start to get the blood flowing and survey the ocean en route. The fog made it impossible to see more than 30m past the shoreline, but the crisp air was invigorating. There was also plenty of company with other restless athletes out there running and biking in the cool, dark morning. One of them just had to pass me on the bike- which my racing soul struggled to let go of- so I pulled in for the dice, but only for about 10 minutes before turning off…

A long morning it turned out to be with the race eventually delayed by 90 minutes due to the fog, but when it cleared, ohmy, it was puuurrrfect! Smallish swell, glassy oceans (still cold mind you) and plenty of ocean waiting. Ready to roll, it was all systems GO!

Now when I hear “GO”, I go. Very hard to casually saunter off and find a rhythm so I prefer the pureness of “go”. And so it was, not too hard, mind you, but steady. Stretching it out, past the backline and into the deep blue- or green as it turned out for most the way. Water viz wasn’t great for about 6km. A couple of random kelp stems floating about, but for the most part, smooth. Just the rhythm and burn of the arms pulling along, legs kicking into motion. Breathe, stretch, pull, kick.

The first 4km I kept a close eye on the bunch behind me. They were feeding, so I felt comfortable slowing down to feed as well (that’s the racer inside me again). Communicating with my second, Jordan, was weird the first time though. I had to speak in one word sentences between breaths to get my message across.

Jordan. Can. You. (Breathe). Get. Me. (Breathe). Some Coke. Please. Eventually, by the end this turned into 2 word sentences: Jordan. (Breathe). Coke. Or on other occasions: Jordan. (Breathe). Gel. It got trickier because the cold had numbed my cheeks and the salt pickled my tongue, so what Jordan *actually* heard, I’m not sure. But he got it right nonetheless!

Mentally, my aim was hitting the Seli 1. I knew from there, I had 4km to go. When we did finally arrive (after what seemed an eternity) I paused for a longer feed- took a gel and scanned behind me with a little one-armed backstroke. I had a solid lead, but I was still waiting for an attack. I had managed to stretch out my lead a little more since the 3km mark, but the other swimmers were in sight. I had one swimmer in my blindspot I needed to keep an eye on…. So off we went again.

The water cooled a little, but the viz got better. The water turned to West Coast torquoise (which is different to, say, Mauritius torquoise). The sun’s rays were shining through to about 4 or 5m below the surface and the dance of sunlight on the glassy surface added to the mood. There was of course, the submerged thought of a shark.

Now, the infamous Great White which lurks around the Seli 1 had been spotted, true to form, within the week of the swim. We try not talk about it too much. We certainly don’t try think about it while we swim. But the thought is there. What helps is to focus on the race: there are only some things you can control in your life. The rest… well… is the rest. But what you can control, you focus on and do your best at. Stretch, breathe, kick, sight. Boom!

Then came along the last 3km. I had heard about this part. I knew it was going to be painful (if I made it this far). But I was also confident that I could keep my arms going for 2 hours (the longest solid paddle in a K1 I had done recently) and I was also confident that my lungs and heart could go for longer (Totalsports was +9hours). Beyond that, I knew, because I wasn’t conditioned specifically for swimming, I was going to hurt. And I did. Famously.

Now when you’re hurting, it’s important not to panic. When you panic, all sorts of things go wrong. Feel the pain. Recognise the pain. Know it is there, but know you have work to do. Head down- literally- and do work. To keep my arms going, I started to up my kick. And in fact, the better I kicked, the easier it was on my arms. Fortunately, all my trail running and random bouts of biking helped out immensely here. I found the kicking to be quite pleasant in fact and found a new groove. My arms were still hurting like crazy though. Lungs and heart were feeling just fine. I managed to control my kick and work rate and keep my core just below the red line. I knew I would need to finish off strong.

By this time, my lead was unassailable. With a mile to go, I knew I had it if I could hold it together. Now in my head, I couldn’t quite believe it and I knew this was my race to lose- and that that would only happen if my body failed me. I also knew I could slow down, but I didn’t want to do that- not too much, if at all. Hey, I was still racing I wanted to keep pushing myself- I needed to know exactly what my body could handle. So push it was…

Closing in on the rocks outside BigBay, the current was relentless. I was swimming in an endless pool and the rocks were not getting any nearer. I was starting to burn, my arms were on fire. My legs were all that was driving me forward at this stage; my flailing arms of lead, turning habitually, just keeping up appearances.

Finally, around the rocks, and into the bay. I could smell land. I was sore. I wanted to end this, but I also wanted to carry on swimming. The lull in the sets passed languidly below me, teasing me into catching a wave. But I waited, and chose to carry on swimming until I could see the sand and be sure. Jordan shouted: “Wave!”. I looked back and realised: this was my train home. Launching into the wave, keeping my head down, I surfed onto the sandbar, pausing for a moment as the wave died and washed over me to think about my journey the last 2.5 hours. Standing on terra-firma, a new wave of excitement built up inside. A little hop, skip and a jump away and I would be first across the line.

This sums it all up for me.

Beyond the time and the podium, this was a huge personal challenge. This didn’t need to be the Olympics- every race is my Olympics, my Everest. It took the courage of someone else to believe in me, my wife, to make me do what I thought I could not do. And more.

As a result, I believe in my abilities a little more, but I am humbled by the events and forever grateful to everybody who made that swim possible. From the vision of the organising team, the backing of the sponsors, the support of the lifeguards, the admin personnel, safety, medics… family and friends for encouraging me… and fellow swimmers and athletes who motivate, inspire and challenge me to take a big bite out of life- and relish it! This was a swim for everybody.

Spiritually, training and racing is also a profound journey. For me, it’s an act of walking by faith- not just based on anything rational or scientific- but also, with a lot of guts and heart, pushing hard into the unknown, finding a deep peacefulness and quiet joy while you throw yourself, with what seems like reckless abandon, into the fullness of life. And in the end, it’s more than ok.

Until the next race

You can view a track of this swim, as recorded by @OSlOlSO.

New 3 day Trail Running event showcasing the beautiful Garden Route

The Southern Cross 3 day Trail Run takes place over the long weekend at the end of April. Runners from all over the country will experience 25km of Mountain trails on Day 1, 30km of stunning trails through indigenous Forest in the Millwood area on Day 2 and finish off Day 3 with a 20km Trail along the top of the cliffs between the Gwaing river mouth and Victoria Bay. The race has attracted more than a 100 competitors which also includes a few International athletes.

This year is the inaugural presentation of this spectacular Event, and Race Organiser, Hano Otto is very excited about the future growth of what could be one of the premier Trail Running Events on the Race Calendar. Otto said: “This is a race that will take the runners to the most beautiful areas of the Garden Route. Each day they will experience a different eco system of the Southern Cape. Day 1 will be challenging as Runners will tackle the tough Mountain sections of the Outeniquas. They will ascend and descend more than 1000 metres. Day 2 will take these Adventurers through thick forest where Otto came across some fresh signs of the shy Forest elephant while scouting the routes. The last day will follow tracks and trails over cliffs and down to the rocky coastline where technical running will be tested to the ultimate. We designed the course in such a way that the athletes have a different experience every day. The race will test the athlete’s physical endurance and mental fitness as the overall winners will have to maintain their bodies, pace themselves and stay injury free during the 3 days to climb the podium.”

The Race village is at Pine Lake Marina, just outside Sedgefield. Runners will be transported by Bus to the start venue each morning. Athletes will be spoilt by a massage from local therapists of Rheenendal and snacks provided by some local service providers. A festive prize giving and slide show will take place at the end of each day at the Race Village. Big prizes, prize money for category winners, medals and custom made trophies are up for grabs. The Pairs category will attract wide spread attention, as some of our countries top Trail running athletes will test their metal against each other. For the Solo runners, the focus will be somewhat different.

Entries for this year’s Event have already been closed. Prospective runners can enter the 2013 Southern Cross Trail Run from 1 September this year. The date has been confirmed for 9 – 11 August 2013. Only a 100 Pairs and 100 Solo athletes will be accommodated for the next Event. Organisers expect the entries to fill up quickly. This year’s Event can be followed on the social media networks, Facebook and Twitter. Race info can be found on www.southerncrossadventure.co.za

The time in between an end-of-summer downtime and the start-of-winter-get-going again is usually a great time to touch base, reconnect, revisit your goals, plan the year ahead and kick back your training a little – or completely. The one thing you need to keep in mind is the momentum required to gear up again.

We all know those first few weeks are going to be hard- that’s a given. What adds to the harshness of re-introducing yourself into the winter regime is, well, winter itself. It’s way colder than you can ever remember- suddenly heading out the door at 5am in a pair of shorts and vest doesn’t cut it. And it’s dark. Really dark. And it gets dark really early too. This weighs heavily on even the most disciplined and well-intentioned athlete and letting a couple sessions slide seems too easy to do…

So why not work with your psyche and plan ahead to give yourself the best advantage you can- start your winter training now, in autumn. “Whoa! What?!” I hear you say. “I thought the whole point of downtime was NOT to train?!” Exactly, you don’t actually have to train -every single session, or any for that matter- but if you setup your schedule now and attend the training session at least (even just for a couple of minutes), the shock to your system won’t be as great.

So, for example, if you plan on doing 5am runs every other day of the week in winter, wake up at 5am every other day during your downtime. Step outside, watch the sunset (or the stars), grab a cup of tea and maybe just walk around the block. Nothing heavy. You’re not officially training, remember. This way, come winter and it’s time to really start, that first month is not going to be daunting.

Likewise, if you plan on doing that early Sunday morning ride starting at 6am, don’t sleep in on Sundays during your downtime. Wake up at 6am. Smell the roses, watch the rain (or the frost settle). Get used to it. You can still go back to bed and read or sleep again. Prepare yourself gently.

Of course, some people have the ability to just switch on and off “just-like-that” between on and off seasons- if you one of those, just keep doing what you’re doing and maybe assign yourself Captain A** Kicker for first month of winter and be a good buddy- get your training partners going!

The iTrainedToday training logbook is a standalone diary which records the basics of your workouts and is for your eyes only. Quick, simple and no fuss, start recording your workouts on your desktop. Works on Mac and Windows via the Adobe AIR runtime.

Download the application here. The app is also available for your BlackBerry Playbook.

Accommodation was promptly organised by @momallott and we loaded up the kids, canoe and MTB and headed into the sunrise. Needless to say, we arrived, ready to rumble in one of the more beautiful parts of our country, Sedgefield. Actually, South Africa is filled with beauty, the most beautiful place happens to be the one you’re standing in right now

The morning’s MTB ride was a straightforward, relatively non-technical time-trial across country road, jeep track, hiking paths, railway lines and one hectic little bump on the sand dune, fortunately covered with stone. A perfect start to the day to work up a good breakfast and just enough time to recover for the 2km open water swim.

The lake is big enough to pick up some wind chop when the wind does get going- and for the OWS, it got going. The surface current was pretty strong and the swim back into the current was tough going. Of course, that meant that the part when we turned and swam downwind was sweet! A great little swim in the middle of the day left plenty of time in the afternoon for lunch, playground and swimming with the kids.

By the time evening came around, the legs were a little heavy, but amped for the night trail run. Having never done one before (even bought a Pick ‘n Pay headlamp special en-route, just in case) I wasn’t sure what to expect. Race briefing included warnings of large mole rats, puff-adders, big holes in the soft sand (from rats and snakes alike) but no mention of kamikaze bats. It was at about 2km that it got dark and lights came on. Click. Rushing through single track, dodging bats above, roots below and keeping an eye on footing with a moving headlamp was thrilling. Having to chase down the lead with my torch switched off (so as not to give my progress away) was even more exhilarating If you ever have a night trail run pop up on your race calendar- do it!

The last day was a relatively easy start to the day, especially when you can roll out of bed into the transition area for an Ultra Canoe Offroad Triathlon. The canoe ended up being quite a bit longer than 6km (closer to 9kms almost) but still, an awesome paddle. As a result, the main swimming group were quite a way ahead so the MTB was an intimate affair up into the mountains and farmlands.

A fresh little squall passed over the top of the mountains to spark off the forest’s finest nutty pine aroma and kept things nice and cool for the rest of the day. The run, similarily was perfeclty fresh, and included a great combination of soft sand, hiking trail, jeep track, bundu bashing, passing over that same steep sand dune (we became good friends) before finishing up inside Pine Lake Marina.

As for the rest of the weekend, there was plenty of down time with the family, which included taking in the jungle gym mostly since the kids were absolutely fascinated with it- it has a foofee slide, which kid wouldn’t be? In all, perfect little country getaway, without having to take the kitchen sink with and certainly a great race venue with enough to do!

The race got off to a good start. A bit pressed for space amongst the team hackers and a little slower than I would have liked on the ski, I pulled out a great swim to take me up to 3rd individual out on the bike. I was feeling fresh and still blazing. This is what I remember racing to be like… My strategy was “go for as hard as you can, for as long as you can”. Not everybody’s cup of tea, and probably not what you “should” do, but I like to fail fast. I’m not scared of failure- it’s the shortest route to improvement

Nonetheless, I was probably a little too quick out on the bike because it was a long lonely ride leaving a good 10 minutes before the start of the Terra Firma. The leading Terra Firma charge spearheaded by Conrad Stoltz only came flying by at the bottom of Rooi Els. And to think I could have jumped onto the back of that pack…? Pack #2 at the top of Rooi Else came by, which I managed to hang on for a while… and then finally Pack #3 in Betty’s Bay, which I dropped off just before heading into Kleinmond.

I simply must mention the schools of dolphins who swam with us on the ski, the spectacularly awesome sunrise, the majestic views from the bike along the coast road, the dramatic scenery along the start of the run… all of it did not go unnoticed.

And the run felt great- for about 500m, before getting hard. I had surpassed my 3 hour conditioning mark and the cramps started back-chatting. **My training sessions usually last 90 minutes, maybe 120 minutes on a long day, and I only get handful of them during the week. My longest race in the last year was 3 hours (Slanghoek) so I knew I had limits- I was just not too sure where they were- or what they would look like.**

The 13km run was pure “vasbyt” until my legs literally seized 1km from the end. I did not move. I was trying to find a stretch resembling a yoga pose while massaging my thumbs deep into the muscles, desperately trying to get them to relax. By the way, this works well and so between that, @Simon_Shield and @BrentOne, who were keeping me hydrated and feeding me cramp busters like candy, I made it through to the K1, happy to get off my feet for a while. “Jumping” into the paddle, I felt relieved and started making great progress once again, happy to use my arms for a change. And then disaster…

7km into the paddle and my body started protesting. Loudly. Waves of nausea and lethargy put my arms at an absolute standstill. Any movement and it felt like I would blow- literally. The 3 hour mark was my first limit, 5 hours was my next threshold. Happy to make the turn and just try drift back into port with the wind, I sat motionless, unable to move. Finally, after the nausea got the better of me, I blew a gasket and succumbed to the cool waters of the vlei for a swim. **I was impressed by the rescue boat who speedily popped by to offer me a lift back- and a ticket out.** But no. I was not done- not totally. Somewhere down, deep inside, there was more. I had to believe there was. After a quiet moment of reflection and feeling purged, I drifted into harbour.

Again, the magic of being out there in the middle of the estuary, with time to take in the splendour of all that was surrounding me, was spiritual…

Washing up on shore, I must have looked quite bad because I was greeted by a number of shocked faces. I ignored the panic in their eyes and focused on looking for a comfortable hard patch of dirt and stones. This was going to be an easy transition. Under the shade of the trees, I scoffed down a half dozen baby potatoes, some more juice- a lot more Rehidrat and regained my sense of humour. As long as I had that, I would be ok. A decent 20/30 minutes of shooting the breeze and I was ready to go- relatively speaking.

It was hot out there- but that was nothing compared to the pain I was in. This was a new level of brutal. Out onto the hills and into the Koggelberg mountains. I always revel in these mountains and the absolute beauty. It’s hard to describe. The rawness of those fire-cleansed landscapes and the glimpses of coastline from on top of the world… This was truly metaphorical.

17kms into the ride and again, my legs refused to move. This was now becoming a familiar routine, but walking it off helps. “Just keep moving… You are not done”

Finishing the bike ride, feeling the cooler breeze of the shoreline, seeing my family gathered at the last transition point, a little worried but smiling, all of it lifted my spirits and renewed my sense of determination. Only 9km to go. This was going to be easy compared to the last 7/8 hours. Bottle in hand, some encouraging cheers, a good luck kiss and I was set to go.

Those 9kms drifted past with little pain. The legs knew what had to be done- it was buckle down and work. Again, my seconds joined me on the last stretch, keeping my sense of humour in check and helping me cross that hot, hot, hot sand. Crossing the bridge and rounding the corner into the home stretch was bliss. Seeing my wife and kids ready to cheer me home was indescribable. My little boy, only too happy to see me and missing me like crazy, lifted me home the last 200m stretch, hand-in-hand. I will never get tired of that.

And just like that it was done- and all memories of the hurt box faded… But before they fade, a note to self…

Sports Specific Training
Nothing beats actually riding a bike, running on the beach, on the road, mountain biking, paddling. A spinning class, a treadmill, an ergo machine… all of it- pale and second-class citizens by comparison. Get out there and do it!

Conditioning
35km of official road bike training mileage in one year (yes, if you reading still, you read that correctly: 35km) is not enough. Hahaha. Mountain biking fitness does not cross-over into time-trialing 50km on a road bike. Probably the one thing I will change. Of course, this also depends on your history and what you’re used to and how long you’ve been in/active.

Advice
Get a lot of it- don’t think you have all the answers- be open to suggestions. I read and took advice from a lot of people and blogs, particularly Dan’s. Baby potatoes rock! I could have taken more advice, but this is a learning curve, an iteration, a step forward. All in good time…

Perfect Practice
Don’t try out anything new on race day- especially on a race like this. Practice/train with your racing kit/nutrition/equipment and race with what you’re comfortable with.

Keep It Simple
Seriously. There’s so much going on, the simpler the better. Boat, paddle and a PFd. Wetsuit, goggles. Bike, helmet, shoes, juice. “Takkies”, hat. Food. Suncream.

Control What You Can
From the Mockes, I’ve read and heard this time and again. Control only the stuff you can control. If a random boat is going to destroy your ski’s rudder- then so be it. If your bike derailleur is going to snap *on that day* then c’est la vie. Yes, it will suck, but you cannot control everything.

Balance
I have a wonderful wife, a family with energetic kids and I freelance. I have other commitments and need to find a balance- somewhere. Sure, if I could train +4 hours a day, I would probably happily do so- but what I have is **perfect**. Don’t lose sight of the really important things. As a result, your achievements are always in context of what you have- the nett result, not just the line item result. Celebrate small victories, enjoy the ride and push yourself beyond where you can go, but take it easy on yourself too

No Regrets
I gave the race everything I had and I would highly recommend that strategy. If I had to race all over again- I would do it pretty much the same. One or two tweaks maybe, but overall, the same. Life is for living- and living to the full. Do the bestest you can do with what you have- and give it your all, nothing less.

Seconds
This cannot be overstated in a race like this. Good seconds who you can just trust to do what they need to do so you can just get on doing with that you need to do is paramount. On race day, you don’t want to worry about anything. Just get up and race. Having a seconding team like that makes all the difference in the world. And by the way, seconding starts long before race day…

Have fun
If you can’t look back on a race and smile, you might need to look at it all again, a little harder, from a different perspective maybe. There’s always the reason you signed up in the beginning, find it. Enjoy it. And see you on the start line next year (and hopefully, a couple more start lines inbetween too)!

Part of the goal with reflection is to put planning for the future into perspective- in addition to just soaking up the glow of memories. So, what next? To be sure, +35 races certainly wasn’t a goal of any sort. It just happened, spontaneously. I signed up for one race, and before I knew it, there was another one. Then another, and then another. Pretty soon, we were sporting around the country (world!) enjoying the time away as a family- with a bit of racing inbetween. The details are fuzzy, the memories spectacular. And as we set off on 2012, the race count ticks away. 2 weekends down, 2 races in the barn. But what’s that all about….?

Training, racing and getting out there is just a way of being. There’s no real point to prove. Big-talking is comic relief through irony. And I can big-talk with the best. Sure, when you race, you race. There is no second place. Victory. But for a lot of us, Victory is just getting to the finish line, sometimes even just the start line.

Life could have been very different for me. In parallel universes, I:
* ended up face down in a driveway with either .38 or .45
* was buried after a short life and battle with malaria/meningitis
* audited accounting records for a corporate ++just kidding
* was sentenced to years in jail in either Ecuador, Colombia or Argentina
* raced as a professional triathlete
* trained under the watchful eye of Sifu Zhong of the Northern Shaolin Masters in Siberia
* retreated to Nepal to take up the battle for the Tibetan people and encountering Enlightenment
* was jailed (or worse) in the middle east for preaching The Word

Bah! Parallel universes. What’s done is done and dusted. Instead, I got something way more awesome than any of the above combined, multiplied and raised to a significant prime number happening right now. Well, the good parts at any rate. And that’s why I race. Victory. For the family unit. For being a husband and a dad. For taking on life, even charging life and coming out victorious.

And the race is not mine alone mind you. I share it with my my wife, my kids, my family, my friends, my training partners, my racing snakes; even that random citizen commuting on his bike back home (I’m going to catch you!). Every race is for all of you, all of us. A celebration of the life we have, the life we live. Not everyone has the right/privilege/opportunity/ability/resources. So if you do, make the most of it- don’t squander it.

And then one step beyond that: to all dads and husbands out there leading a family… step out into the world, pursue a vigorous and active life; with your wife, with your kids; together. There’s a dimension of living beyond the TV set, the Playstation, the shopping mall that will bond and grow your family in ways unimagined.

So rest assured, when I line up at the start, I’m gunning for #1. Victory. Regardless. I expect you to do the same. Regardless. Who will win? Time will tell, but I’m ready; iTrainedToday. Did you?

Open water swimming is special. There’s something quite primitive about it- much like trail running I guess. It’s just you (mostly) and the environment. Of course, being surrounded by the cold waters of the Atlantic, a wetsuit is necessary, for me at least. And over time, I have collected and abused an array of wetsuits for swimming and surfing, including bodysurfing. My latest arrow is the XTERRA Vendetta.

Now, you can read all the specs and product brochures online. You can listen to all the sales pitches and go through a comparative checklist with other suits. But nothing beats how the suit actually makes you feel in the water. And this suit makes me feel like a fish.

First off, it doesn’t feel like you’re actually wearing a suit in the way that there are no restrictions. Even with a full arm, the batman panels makes you feel like you just have extra skin. The forearms are super thin and light so you can still feel the water right through the pull phase of the stroke. In a lot of ways, it’s like running in a minimalist shoe which allows you to feel the ground.

Next, the buoyancy is incredible. Wearing this suit reminded me of floating in the Dead Sea. There was literally zero effort keeping afloat. Now most wetsuits do float you, but when it doesn’t feel like you have a suit on AND you’re still floating in different poses, you can fool yourself into thinking you’ve just defied the laws of physics! Maybe that’s what the “X-Air Buoyancy Cells” are all about?

Of course, the look is important too. Clean lines, smooth panels, succinct markings, simple and effective colors- all these go a long way to making you look good which, in turn, makes you feel good. You’d be surprised just how much more confident you are with a simple motivational boost

And if you in the market for a new suit or want to look through the options, do yourself a favour and get of hold Terry in Cape Town.

See you in the water!

The focus of the foundation session was an introduction into some of the required skills specific to OWS, all followed with a short practical implementation. First, we looked at the concept of drafting and swam in and out of drafts, feeling the difference and experiencing the pull. Being able to draft during the swim, particularly in triathlons (not in official OWS races), can save you a lot of energy. Of course, you have to weigh up swimming inside a draft, and potentially in the middle of a pack, versus swimming relatively peacefully, albeit harder, on the edges of that same pack.

Next, we looked at turning buoys, a skill not often practised at all. Indeed, it’s quite difficult to do try out in a pool. Of all the skills, this one is particularly important for less experienced swimmers since getting comfortable in a bunch, on a turn, with all the punches, splashes and kicks around you is paramount to surviving the swim. I have seen a number of athletes train half a year (or more) for a race, only to quit at the first buoy because it was “too hectic”.

Of course, finding the buoy to begin with is pretty useful, so we went through a couple of drills in sighting. Sighting off landmarks, other swimmers and buoys is one thing, but none of that helps if you cannot swim in a relatively straight line without a blackline on the bottom to guide you. Of all drills, swimming with closed eyes is definitely one of my favourite, read challenging. It can be quite disorientating but it certainly forces a focus on awareness once you’re over the initial panic. And OWS demands a lot of awareness on the environment around you, all the while trying to focus on what your body is doing with each stroke.

To wrap it up, we put it all together with a free-for-all bunch swim. This simulates an OWS race or triathlon start which is truly a form of chaos. Being comfortable inside the chaos takes practice and being comfortable with a mouthful of water, when what you really needed was air, or an eyeful of fist, when what you really wanted was to see, is part and parcel of accepting and managing your risk during the swim.

This basic foundation of skills, repeated in practice at every opportunity will help build confidence and ability in the water, turning a survival swim into a strong swim. Of course, skills alone won’t finish the race- you still need the hard yards! Happy swimming.

I did assume though that there was going to be at least one tough climb near the beginning. I didn’t quite imagine what unfolded next.

10 groups of 20 runners leave the start area and head up along one of the Silvermine tracks. This one went straight up. I was in group #9 so I had some time to watch the forerunners. Within 90 seconds of starting, the front guys had already started walking. Uh-oh.

Group after group burst up the rocky single track only to start crawling just as quickly. The more intimidated started walking from the get-go. After all, there’s 12km to go and if you went through the route map you would know, there’s 2 climbs just like this one. I didn’t, so my strategy was simple: go as hard as you can for as long as you can and then hang on.

Go! And boom!! out the gates I went, scrambling up the track, determined not to walk. I pushed that first 1km so hard my quads were aching, my lower back cursing and my lungs burning. 500m up over 1km is a pretty gnarly ratio. I also realised we were scheduled to come down this very same path- a thought I suspended during the 18 minutes it took me to scramble up.

But I also realised that as soon as you’re up on the top, no matter how hard the climb was, you can recover while running so no point resting while you work. And thankfully the end did come. Running along the top of the Silvermine was amazing. Of the 12km trail run, I reckon about 11km was single track? There was one section with jeep track (and a small section with no track) and the rest was all typical softsand amidst jagged rock on the mountain amongst the Western Cape fynbos.

The drop into Kalk Bay was hectic. Steep and rocky and I had more than one vision of me tumbling head over hills as I raced down catching the odd branch and rock with my feet. At the bottom and turning back towards Cape Town, I thought “Yay! mostly flat all the way home now…”. The second little climb, which I expected to last only 2 or 3 minutes went on for almost as long as the first.

It was equally steep, just the legs weren’t as equally capable. But, we were here to race and so race we did. 13 minutes and 1km later, I was on top of the world- again. I managed to lose the trail a little and almost went over the edge of a rather fascinating drop onto the jagged rocky beds below but thankfully, the cautious descender that I am made me look before I jumped.

The last 1.5km going downhill was pure havoc. I don’t think my quads have taken a beating like that in a long while. While I sit here typing out this reflection, I am reminded with every gentle movement of my legs. And when I get up in a little bit and descend the steps to my room, I will be even more vividly reminded why trail running is so much more than “just running in the forest”.

Rumour also has it that some in-form mountain goats have broken the records for this run, but we’ll wait to see the final results and race round-up from the Quantum Adventures team.

TRAIL RUNNING TIP: I learned this one from mountain biking. On a bike, every time you get out the saddle to tackle a climb, your hear rate will skyrocket. Check it out for yourself. You can research the physiology behind this for yourself, but one of the reasons this happens is because of the sudden change in relative altitude of your heart in relation to the legs doing the work. Your heart needs to sustain the same blood flow against a change in gravity, essentially.

Now think about this going uphill on a trail run. Your move your upper body up and down with each steeper section as you bend over, then stand up, repeat. In short, you’re stressing your physiology unnecessarily. So how do you not do that? Easy; get your hands dirty. Scramble up the steep sections (on all fours if you have to) and stay low for as long as you can.

Yes, you will need stronger shoulders- not your typical runner’s upper body shoulder strength. Yes, your core and lower back will work harder. Yes, your hands will feel it. Yes, you might inhale some dust. But this is trail running- get down with it