We had completed about 200 meters of a 1400-meter swim, the first leg of 23 swims interspersed with runs in between. In total, we were to cover 75 kilometers of swimming and running that day. The day was just starting.
Amidst the waves and choppy waters of the Baltic Sea, another team crossed our path. Our tethers became entangled, and theirs wrapped around my left wrist. In the chaotic struggle, my swim paddle was ripped from my hand.
I abruptly stopped, sat up, and plunged my face into the water, desperately searching for my lost paddle before it disappeared into the abyss. Our elastic tether continued to tighten as Kawika remained oblivious to the situation, still swimming. Teams swam around me as I bobbed in place, scanning for my precious black carbon paddle in the dark sea. But there was no glimmer of hope, just streaks of sunlight dancing on the water’s surface. The tether tugged at the front of my belt, spinning me around, forcing me to abandon my search
Kawika rolled over and glanced at me with a bewildered “what the fuck” expression. I raised both my hands out of the water, displaying one hand with a paddle and the other without. Teams continued passing us, and we realized we were losing valuable time. Kawika shrugged, flipped over, and resumed swimming. With another 10 kilometers of swimming ahead, I knew it would be a grueling day.
If you already know swimrun, you have most likely just gasped at this potentially disastrous situation. If you are new to swimrun, you may need a little context.
Most teams (2-person) are tethered together as it is the most efficient (fast) way to move as a single unit. We also use hand paddles and swim buoys to offset the weight of your shoes and all of the nutrition you’re carrying with you. Stuffed into my wetsuit is a flask of water, a collapsible cup, and 10 energy gels. Not only does it make you look like you’re pregnant, but it all weighs a lot. Every single piece of this equipment is vital in this style of racing. And, yes, we run in our wetsuits and we swim in our shoes.
Having lost a paddle, I quickly devised a plan. I resolved to swim harder and alternate which hand I used the paddle with, not wanting Kawika to pull me through the entire 10 kilometers. I aimed to touch his shoes as much as possible, keeping the tether loose and providing him with psychological support. Towards the end of the first swim, still navigating through other swimmers, we found ourselves leading the second pack with teams drafting off us. “Maybe we can pull this off,” I thought.
But that wasn’t the only setback. During the first run, right at the race’s start, one of my shoes came untied. Unbelievable. Hadn’t I double-tied them? Kawika and I decided I would deal with it after the first swim.
Photo: Kimberly Moss
Once we were out of the water, away from slippery rocks, I hastily re-tied both untied shoes. Teams passed us while we scrambled up the rocks, costing us more time and race positions. As we maneuvered through the challenging island terrain, including mushy moss, black dirt, and blueberry bushes, I joked with Kawika that if I had lost a shoe during the swim, it would have been game over. He chuckled in agreement.
As we discussed the paddle situation while scurrying the rocky terrain, I gave him the full story. We concluded there was nothing we could have done differently, but we’d need to adapt our strategy. Being the stronger swimmer, Kawika usually led most swims, but we’d take turns during longer swims to draft and share the workload.
Given our paddle situation, that plan was out the window. There would be no way that I would be able to lead a swim with one paddle. I was already swimming hard in order to draft and tap his shoes. This meant that we would both be expending energy in the swims with little chances for rest.
As we hopped from island to island, the next few runs and swims went better than expected. I seemed to find my rhythm of swimming hard with one paddle and was keeping on his shoes. Our runs through the technical, rocky terrain, soft mushy moss, black dirt and blueberry bushes were smooth and fast. We were consistently passing teams on the runs and even in the water. There were a few teams we were leapfrogging with, but most of it was forward progress as we moved up the ranks.
During one of the swims (I don’t remember which one), I finally spotted the Team Envol boat. With Magnus at the helm and our Coach Nicolas Remires at command joined by Linda, and my two daughters, Ashley and Jess. They tagged along, following us and other Team Envol members. I could see the Team Envol flag and everyone screaming at us and cheering us onward.
As we hopped out of the water and onto the slippery rocks of Nämdo, we started one of the three longer runs of the race. This one would be 4.5 miles or so and consisted of both gravel roads and technical trails. Some of the teams that were not as good at technical running quickly showed they were faster on the roads. We tried to keep a steady pace, knowing that we still had Örnö to face which was hell for me last year.
As the trees gave way to a long, picturesque grassy field, Nicolas ran towards us. He was in training for a 100k race in November, and this was an opportunity for him to get some miles while spectating. He joined us, offering words of encouragement, strategic advice, and urging us to push harder.
The infamous “pig swim”. In Sweden, anything that is tough or hard and requires you to roll up your sleeves and use some grit, is referred to as a pig. Pig task. Pig job. Pig swim. You get the idea.
As we approached the pig swim, neither Kawika or I talked much about the paddle situation. We knew it was going to suck. We knew we couldn’t swap our positions to share the load. We knew it was time to roll up our sleeves and that’s what we did.
Most of the shorter swims had been relatively smooth, with some waves and chop but nothing like what we encountered during the pig swim. It was turbulent, choppy, and windy, reminiscent of our first swim of the day.
Once in the water, we were tossed around by the waves, making it a rough and sometimes violent swim. Breathing often led to inhaling waves or being pushed underwater after a swell. I could only imagine the challenge Kawika faced while trying to spot a blinking strobe 1400 meters away.
We managed to conquer the Pig Swim with minimal issues, mainly being tossed about. As we hopped onto Kvinnoholmen, we navigated rocky terrain and tried to warm up while gaining a few more positions. We had several more runs and swims to endure before reaching the dreaded Örnö.
Reaching Örnö’s shores was mentally draining. We knew we had a daunting 11-mile stretch ahead. Both of us were showing signs of exhaustion, but we had to persevere.
Out of nowhere, Coach Nicolas appeared. “Let’s go, Marcus and Kawika!” he exclaimed, running along the undulating flat rock sections of the initial Örnö run. It wasn’t exceedingly technical but featured numerous drops and climbs that made it hard to maintain a steady pace. Coach offered strategies and praised our pace, pushing ahead telling us that he’d meet us at the church.
At the church, I got to see my daughters again. They’re cheering us as we made our way quickly through the aid station, grabbing food to eat on the run. With a warm send off, we began the trudge on the paved section of Örnö.
Photo: Kimberly Moss
This is where Kawika and I began to struggle. The impact of the pavement, the scorching sun, and our rapid pace started to wear us down. We understood that we only needed to get through Örnö to be in the clear. The last five islands between Örnö and Utö were brief and mostly technical, with the last two featuring jagged volcanic rock. We eagerly anticipated reaching the water after Örnö, even though we knew these final five islands would be a challenge, despite the discomfort.
The water was everything we hoped it would be, cold and refreshing. The heat and sweat from Örnö washed away as we swam away from its shore. Our legs found relief from the long run, but my shoulders were beginning to protest loudly. Swimming with just one paddle had become exhausting, and I couldn’t wait to reach Utö, the last island.
As we traversed the last couple of islands, the currents grew stronger, as they always did. The narrow passages between these islands funneled large volumes of water, creating challenging swimming conditions. One moment, you’d be swimming straight, and the next, a rush of water would slam into your side, attempting to pull you out to sea. To counter this, you almost had to turn completely into the current, which was especially tricky when tethered to another person, and with only one paddle.
Finally, we reached the rocky shore of Utö and pulled ourselves out of the water. “Just one more run,” I thought. “We just have to get through this last one.”
We climbed up to the gravel road and ascended to the plateau, Coach Nico appeared once more. He offered his typical Nico-style motivation, urging us to pick up the pace because there was another team closing in. As he continued to blend motivation with tactical advice, my mind slipped into “what-if” mode.
What if I hadn’t lost a paddle?
What if I had checked my laces at the start?
What if I had done something different with my nutrition?
And many more thoughts about what I could have done differently to feel better at that moment. Just a bit better. A bit stronger. A bit less exhausted. Could tweaking one of these small things have changed our position?
“Let’s go, boys. You have to pick up the pace,” Nico exclaims
“Coach, I don’t need this right now,” I replied
“Yes you do. This is exactly what you need.”
I come to a complete stop and said, “Coach. Please.”
He relented and hurried off to catch up with other Envol racers. I just wanted some solitude to contemplate my thoughts and work through them. As soon as he was gone, Kawika and I accelerated our pace. It was a minor increase, but it was an increase nonetheless—a small improvement, a small victory.
Our pace quickened a bit more until I found myself grunting with effort to overcome the fatigue, exhaustion, and negative thoughts. We made the left turn and began the final hill. I wish I could say we ran the entire way, but we did walk briefly, glancing back down the gravel road we had just covered, checking if another team was closing in. No one was in sight.
We resumed running and crossed the finish line, a mixture of elation, exhaustion, and satisfaction for conquering the course once again.
Photo: Kimberly Moss
Coach Nico had been right. It was precisely what we needed—a final push, a nudge. We had more to give, and he knew it.
Race Recap: ÖTILLÖ Swimrun World Championship
Location: Sandhamn, Sweden
Date: Sep 4, 2023
Distances: 24 swims, 23 runs, 6 miles of swimming, 38 miles of running
Result: 12th men’s, 1st US team
Full Results
Products used: Ark Ornö X wetsuit, Ark Carbon Blades paddles, Ark Keel + buoy, Ark Zip + flask, Ark Kangaroo top, Ark Aid pressure bandage, GU Roctane, First Endurance MultiV
Speedy Lizard 