Part 2: The Swim

Reading, September 2016 9:02 am

BRAAAAAAHHHHHPPP!
The Airhorn sounded, and the timer started ticking. Amateur Triathlons usually have a standing (or rather swimming) start in the water – there were about sixty tightly packed people in my wave, and we all went from bobbing around to flat out instantaneously. I’d been warned about the ‘washing machine’ at the start (it was more like being a frog in the world’s biggest kitchen blender) and, wary of being kicked in my first triathlon swim, I’d positioned myself at the back and slightly to the side.

Despite this, there were people everywhere I looked. With my face in the cool and darkly green tinted water I could see at least five individual feet kicking up and down in front of me (and visibility really wasn’t that good at about a meter and a half). I could also see (and feel) people on either side of me as we all tried to carve out our own spaces. Arms clashed, I took a couple of inadvertent blows to the ribs and fingers touching my feet triggered repeated bursts of acceleration as I tried to maintain my position.

In his earlier wave, Matt had lost track of the advice we’d all had about the washing machine and not going off too fast. Buried in the middle and full of adrenaline as it felt like blows rained in from the other swimmers he had taken in a couple of unexpected mouthfuls of water in the first few meters. He’d peeled off and made it halfway to one of the marshal’s kayaks intending to demand a rescue before getting a grip and setting off again at a more balanced and wary pace.

He was still able to finish a storming swim but was frustrated that he hadn’t managed to do what we all knew he was capable of. Stu had had a monster swim and had exited the water in 15th place in his wave, hot on the heels of some of the best athletes. Despite probably being a faster swimmer on paper Matt was a full 30 places and three minutes further back.
In my wave I was able to quickly find a rhythm and got a strong start, I soon found myself overhauling people – especially those who had obviously not practiced much in open water and as a result found it really hard to swim in anything resembling a straight line.

I’d be swimming strongly and suddenly someone might zip in across in front of me at a forty-five degree angle to the route as if they were in a separate race altogether. Each time, this made me lift my head and recheck that I was still heading to the giant orange buoy that was the first turn marker a few hundred meters from the start, but I was maintaining a reasonably straight course.

As we came up on the first buoy everyone that had been swimming spaced out as far as possible was compressed back together to make the tightest turn possible and not swim wasted distance, and again I had to protect my space and ignore the flailing arms and legs around me.

Rounding the buoy I was struggling to control my breathing, feeling like I was being choked by the wetsuit and unable to take in enough air, so I grabbed a couple of strokes of breast stroke (Deep Breath, Deep Breath, probably really irritating anyone swimming more consistently behind me) then put my head down and switched back to front crawl. I needed to ease off a tiny amount to get my rhythm back and concentrated on my line and tempo.

We swung closer to the shore on the back straight and I could feel the occasional whispering touch of a long piece of weed, but not enough to cause an issue with my stroke, or a entanglement focused panic attack. As I came up to the second buoy I managed to latch onto a fast pair of feet – following saved energy for me and meant I didn’t have to check my direction and position as often, so I stayed tight on these heels until we rounded the third buoy and with the extra saved energy I sprinted for the finish, just beating my helpful guide there.

As I dragged myself out of the shallows I was congratulating myself on what I felt was a fairly fast swim (I was about three quarters of the way down the pack out of the water) but staggered as a sudden bout of dizziness made it difficult to stand up on the exit ramp. Gritting my teeth manfully and, veering off at a steep angle to my intended course I ran full on into the inflatable gate that marked the water exit. It took a few more seconds, but I finally managed to gather my wits and ran (straightish this time) back into transition to collect my bike.

The Swim

For me, the swim is my favourite part of the Triathlon. It didn’t start that way though, so let me explain what’s involved.

If you can swim 750m without stopping, you are basically there already with a few wrinkles we’ll come on to. It doesn’t matter at all if you can’t do front crawl for the whole distance (or even at all) – there will always be some triathletes doing breaststroke from the start. There will usually a lot more at the halfway point as some go off way too fast but for most people crawl will be faster so it’s worth trying to stick it out if you can. It’s usually a bad idea to try backstroke as for a lot of events a swimmer rolling onto their back is showing that they are in distress and need the magic canoe ride back to shore. It’s also much harder to swim in a straight line in a lake while on your back…

If you can’t yet comfortably swim 750m then that’s where you need to focus your energies and training leading up to the event. If you are a particularly nervous swimmer it might well be worth targeting one of the specifically novice friendly triathlons that do the swim in a pool – they are often shorter Super sprints as mentioned earlier (400m or less) and this also removes a number of potential issues and gives you a fair few less things to worry about as you won’t be wearing (or removing) a wetsuit; basically, it’s lane swimming against a clock.

Assuming you aren’t in a pool there are a few challenges for everyone to swimming in open water for the first time. All of them can be overcome but it usually takes some practice.

Sea, lakes and rivers can be both cold and murky, and filled with sharks and/or monsters (not really, but anyone who’s telling you they’ve never looked at an inky black lake and swallowed a couple of times is a big fat fibber). We usually combat the first by swimming in a wetsuit. Although it can be tempting to stick to tried and tested speedos, you can tell what the most effective strategy is by looking around at the other triathletes – usually 99% will be in a wetsuit, and I have a sneaking suspicion that a significant percentage of the remaining 1% are just posing.

Wetsuits are often compulsory – at temperatures below 14 degrees centigrade they will be mandatory if under British Triathlon Federation rules and that will cover many events, so it’s worth planning to swim in the suit in case. Personally, over 750m I know I’m 2 minutes faster in my wetsuit, more than cancelling out the 20-25 seconds it costs me to get it off. Swimming in a wetsuit is different and can be more tiring – my first wetsuit was probably a little tight (honest translation: I was probably a little too fat for it). Although I could breathe normally at the start, when I was going flat out and trying to suck in huge lungfuls of air it started restricting my ability to grab a full breath which quickly made me feel like I was suffocating – this may well have contributed to my initial dizziness when leaving the water.

A lot of experienced triathletes will tell you to keep pulling the legs of a wetsuit up as you don it until there’s no physical way to get it higher without causing personal injury, and this helps, but there’s no substitute for a really well-fitting wetsuit. It’s tempting to order that budget suit (you can get a suit that will last you years for less than £100) online or second hand, but if there’s any way in which you can try the fit out before committing that would be a good thing.

As I wore in the suit (and lost a bit of weight) my issues went away, but I would have been much happier earlier with a better fitting suit. Take your time putting the wetsuit on – especially if you have long nails. Some triathletes use plastic bags around feet and hands before putting arms and legs into the suit to make it easier to slide them through.

Once you have the suit, hat (usually colour coded and given out for each event so the organisers can a) see you and b) tell you are in the right wave) and goggles on, you are ready to go – most triathlons will put you in the water 2-5 minutes before blowing the starter horn. I think it’s critically important to make the most of these couple of minutes – get in as early as you can, and swim at least 20m to let some water in so it can start lubricating the suit.

As you do this make sure you submerge your head to get used to having your face in the (potentially) cold water. There’s something called the ‘mammalian dive reflex’ which basically means the shock of sticking your face in cold water makes you hold your breath without thinking about it. This was a useful prehistoric survival skill you’re your ancestors were small animals that had just been chased off a cliff by a woolly mammoth but less helpful when you are about to launch into some fiercely aerobic activity – soaking your face in the water for ten seconds or so can prevent any issues.

The first thirty seconds in the water can be mildly unpleasant as the water works its way into the suit, especially around the zip, but don’t panic – it soon stops filling and your body warms the water that’s now acting as an insulating barrier – it’s the trapped layer of water that keeps the cold from you, not really the thickness of the neoprene wetsuit.

While we are thinking about that initial entry, always be cautious about jumping or diving in – the entries are often shallower than you might imagine, and some of them (especially rivers, for some reason) may have large pointy stones on the bottom. Don’t let your impatience get the better of you here – I have succumbed to frustration and wound up with cut feet or bruised heels several times trying to get around a slow queue of competitors entering the water as time to the start ticks away – this is one reason why being at the front of the water entry queue can be a good idea.

Triathlon swims can be quite physical, especially at the start – it’s not malicious (usually), but there are a lot of swinging arms and furiously kicking legs in a relatively confined space and not one single athlete is prepared to give way; contact is probably going to be made. When I started out I was really nervous about this element but now I will be strong and hold my line – most of the triathletes around you will try to do the same. Things can get especially interesting at the first buoy on a swim course, when the group is still relatively compact but has to converge on the single point that is the turning point. Early on, the pack will also generate significant ‘waves’ even in a tightly confined lake so if you are in the middle of things you may need to be careful and controlled with your breathing.

Having said all of this, if you don’t like the idea of being bumped or getting splashed, pick a route to the side or the rear – you might wind up swimming 5-10 meters further, but a clear swim will probably make up for that. Barney proudly employs this tactic knowing he’ll make up the lost ground on the bike and run, so you may well meet him there if you decide to give this a try.

Picking your starting location is so important. Most Triathlons start in the water with anything up to a couple of hundred athletes looking for the best position along an imaginary starting line drawn between two points. I will never understand why weak swimmers position themselves right at the front, jostling for a leading position, but there’s always a number of them. You wonder if they ever look behind them at the solid line of other athletes who are planning a good strong start. A stronger swimmer often won’t even see you due to poor visibility until he is literally right on top of you, and no competitive triathlete is going to stop because there’s another swimmer in the way – he’s just going to go straight over you, in every sense of the phrase.

As a finger in the air guide, if you are swimming around 1:35 per 100m in open water you’ll probably find yourself exiting a sprint triathlon about halfway down the competitors; if you have no idea what time you’d swim 100m in, you’re probably going to enjoy it more towards the back to start with.

If you are really planning to enjoy the scenery and the triathlon you are currently enjoying has closely spaced waves do bear in mind that fifteen minutes after you started a much faster wave may be coming through en masse – if this is the case staying well off to the side will probably allow you to continue your steady progress without a surprising and inadvertent submersion.

If you can only breathe to one side, make sure you are on the opposite side of the side you breath to for the start – this means you will have a better chance of seeing other swimmers drifting in your direction. The only time when this may not be the best idea is if the sun is low and on the side you are breathing to, which can make seeing anything, including the buoys you are swimming for, deeply challenging. Even if you can’t breathe bilaterally (where swimmers alternating the side they take a breath on every three strokes) most people can still breathe one sided, but on the opposite side to their usual one and this might be worth considering.

If you are swimming in a river, you’ll find the current is stronger in the middle of the river than at the edges; you’ll see triathletes bombing downstream in the middle using a strong current then diving to the bank for the upstream leg, and this can cause worse congestion at the start – you’ll need to carefully consider if an extra knot of water speed is worth fighting it out with everyone else.

One last point on positioning – consider this an advanced tip – but when starting in water if possible float horizontally on your front as everyone is jockeying for position, especially if the race team give you a ten or thirty second start warning. Usually everyone bobs up and down vertically, then as the starting horn goes, the whole wave flips horizontally, taking up five or six times as much length. This vastly increases the chances of everyone getting a foot in the face. If you are horizontal, you not only make it easier and quicker to start, but you are also protecting a larger starting spot and giving yourself a better chance for a clean getaway.

Once the race is underway, one of the hardest things to do is to swim in a straight line. It’s easy in a crystal-clear pool with a whacking great black line painted on the bottom and ropes to gently nudge you back on course if you drift – in a murky lake with a couple of meters of visibility (which is what you can reasonably expect) it’s a little more challenging. I have friends who track their swims on a GPS enabled watch and often come back with a Christmas tree map of the route they took rather than the triangle they intended. As well as being longer (and therefore slower) showing this level of incompetence can invite helpful, but deeply sarcastic guidance from the swim marshals shepherding you back to the main flock in their kayaks.

The way we avoid this is by ‘sighting’ – in theory dead simple, every so often we lift our eyes just out of the water and take a look to make sure we are still heading in the right direction. For most swimmers, a quick sight once every six strokes is about right – try this out in a lake before the race and see if this number works for you as you may have to do it more often to start with. Usually you are swimming towards either a buoy or a swim exit, however they can be low to the water, in the sun or difficult to pick out for other reasons. It can really make life easier if instead of trying to sight on the buoy you instead pick a particularly distinctive tree or other landmark in line (or close enough) and sight on that instead.

To reinforce just how important this skill is I’ve included below the GPS trace for two of our swims at the same triathlon event. The first one was 728 meters and, starting from the green dot probably blended the straight line shortest swim with staying deep enough to be able to swim properly about as well as can be done. The swimmer then rounded the only buoy on the course and headed for the finish, again in a fairly straight line.

The second swimmer didn’t do so well sighting and wound up swimming 812 meters – over ten percent longer, and finishing several minutes later despite the pace being very similar.

Something that also helps with sighting is to find a pair of ‘fast feet’ and latch on – assuming the other athlete can swim in a straight line and at a consistent pace, this can really help you have an easier swim, as you can let him do the hard work of sighting. Drafting – as this close following is known – is legal in the water (if not on the bike) and means you are spending less energy to swim faster and can concentrate on keeping yourself as streamlined as possible.

However, you’ll note the importance of the other athlete not being a zig-zagging dying after two-hundred meter wonder so if you are going to try this as a strategy it’s usually worth getting a hundred meters or so in before having a look around you to see who might be a good pair of feet to follow.

I mentioned my dizziness when I finished my first tri swim – this is called vascular shunting and is not uncommon as most of your blood is sent to the working muscles as you swim horizontally and when you suddenly stand up it can take a while to catch up. You can minimise this by kicking harder in the last fifty meters and if you can practice this transition a couple of times you do quickly get used to it. Any photos of me exiting the water are always terrible and I blame this effect.

Hopefully you will be luckier and not look like an exhausted seal flopping onto an iceberg every time, but I wouldn’t count on it.

Key Points:

– Get hold of a well fitted wetsuit if you can.
– Get in the water early (even if it’s cold) to acclimatise and stick your face in the water.
– Enter the water carefully
– Pick your starting position carefully based on your individual capabilities and protect your space.
– Sight often and find fast feet to follow if you can.

Next: Part 3; Transition