By Sea, By Land
Combining two trending fitness pursuits-trail running and open-water swimming-Otillö Swimrun is the ultimate all-terrain endurance test. Our man dives in. Would you?
Such is my love of physical activity that it’s rare that I feel like a total novice. But that’s exactly how I feel when I sign up to my first Swimrun, with a mere four weeks to train.
“Surely it’s just a bit of swimming and running,” my wife says. “A triathlon minus the cycling?” That may have been what my month of warm-up training involved but, by the time I’m standing at the start line, I know that the simplest answer is: “Not in the slightest!”
Though it was established in Sweden more than 15 years ago, many still consider Swimrun to be a new discipline. Made up of – you guessed it – swimming and running, it now has a curious rep for instilling in participants a hippylike, holistic relationship with nature. Some speak of how it activates an inner, amphibious mode of being, as you move seamlessly between land and water, swimming with shoes on and running in a wetsuit, for distances of up to 75km. My assignment, I’m told, is a “sprint” distance over roughly 12km.
Michael Lemmel, the founder of Ötillö Swimrun, knows better than anyone what the sport is about, so I feel lucky that he’s the man who picks me up from mainland Sweden. He gives me a few tips for tomorrow’s race.
“All you can do is adapt to nature. That has been our ethos from the very beginning,” Lemmel tells me, as we speed across the Baltic Sea towards the island of Utö on the outer southern archipelago, the spiritual home of Swimrun. “There’s no value in talking about times, or the toughness of something. Swimrun is more about sharing the love of being outside in nature and the passion of pushing yourself. Because when you push yourself, you realise more things about yourself and about others.”
Just then, the boat slows and ahead lies a picture-postcard backdrop for an event, draped in late-summer sunshine. “This is Utö,” Lemmel says, proudly.
I get goose bumps, but I can’t tell if it’s mild seasickness or butterflies about what I’ve signed myself up for. I know the ugly truth: how hard I’ll have to push my body across this beautiful landscape.
The pep talk over, I hop off the boat and take my chance to explore part of the course before dinner with my race partner. That’s right, you Swimrun in pairs – being attached to them is optional. Lemmel tells me: “To do it with someone is so much better than doing it by yourself, as it brings so much more to the experience, sharing all the ups and downs with someone.”
I check in and quickly change before heading out to meet Gabriel, the unassuming local tasked with getting me around alive. It’s here that my novice status truly manifests. In terms of preparation, I’ve spent the past couple of weeks mastering how to use the kit required to optimise Swimrun – non-absorbent shoes, hand paddles, a buoy between my legs and, of course, a special wetsuit. Turning the corner, I set eyes on my partner, and it clicks as to why I’ve found it near-impossible to zip up my wetsuit. For a month – documented for all to see on my Instagram feed – I have been wearing
it back to front. Instinctively, I dart into a bush, right my wardrobe malfunction and emerge, my shoulders freed from their unintentional shackles.
Set against picturesque evergreen trees, moss, overgrown shrubbery, rocks and tranquil water, the short test Swimrun we do is a first date that I’ll remember for a while. Running in tow through the wilderness, the excitement builds ahead of tomorrow’s race. I can’t get enough of the ever-changing route. Distance events can so often be a monotonous slog, but here I am, darting along, up and down trails, scaling cliffs and jumping into the (surprisingly mild) Baltic Sea.
Pumped, I thank Gabriel. He tells me to get a good meal and a decent night’s sleep, and we’ll meet again bright and early on the start line.
Strenuous exercise isn’t supposed to be poetic, but Swimrun on Utö is exactly that. The mini-practice calms any nerves. My usually competitive nature evaporates. I’m not thinking about what position we might come, or how fast we’ll complete it. I’m suddenly a wetsuit-clad cliché, assured that it’s only the taking part that counts and, come rain or shine, I’m looking forward to testing myself physically with the elements, not against them. How long that feeling of serenity lasts, though, remains to be seen.
OUT-OF-BODY EXPERIENCE
Standing on the start line with Gabriel, the mood is jovial. The start times don’t split men, women and mixed, and there are no separate age categories. It’s one big community. Everyone seems relaxed with their swim caps and goggles on, paddles tucked into wetsuits and buoys positioned just above bottoms. Some have the course mapped out on their paddles by distance per run, swim, run, and so on. In total, today’s course is just over 12km, with the longest run 3.5km and the longest swim 900m.
Last night’s dinner chatter suggests that around the two-hour mark would be very respectable for a Swimrun rookie, so I keep that in my mind. Stretched and ready, we hear the klaxon
“Strenuous exercise isn’t supposed to be poetic, but Swimrun is”