Some races become familiar.

That doesn’t mean they become easier.

This was my third time racing ÖTILLÖ Gothenburg, and while I knew what the course had in store, it still found plenty of ways to surprise me. This time I had the privilege of racing alongside Åsa Tengblad in the Mixed division of the ÖTILLÖ World Series.

Going into the weekend, our goal was simple: finish inside the top 10 mixed teams.

When we crossed the finish line in 9th place, we accomplished exactly what we’d set out to do.

But like most swimrun races, the result is only part of the story.

Into the Bubble

This was a whirlwind trip.

Trista and I flew out Thursday, landed in Sweden on Friday, and headed straight to the archipelago.

Åsa greeted us at the airport with gifts and Swedish candy, immediately setting the tone for the weekend.

Once we arrived, we entered what swimrunners simply call the bubble.

If you’ve raced swimrun, you know exactly what I mean.

The outside world disappears. Conversations become about water temperatures, weather forecasts, tether length, nutrition plans, race strategy, and catching up with friends you may only see a few weekends each year somewhere around the world. It’s one of my favorite parts of this sport, and it happens at every race.

After checking in, seeing familiar faces, making one final adjustment to our tether, grabbing pizza, and finishing our race preparations, it was time to get some sleep.

One of the Most Technical Courses in Swimrun

I’ve raced a lot of technical courses over the years.

Rockman.

ÖTILLÖ World Championships.

Orcas Island

Gothenburg absolutely belongs in that conversation.

The course is built around Sweden’s granite coastline, where you’re constantly moving from trail to exposed rock, hopping from boulder to boulder, climbing granite slabs, scrambling up cliffs, crossing rock retaining walls, weaving through villages, and then diving back into the sea.

Just when you find a rhythm…

…it’s time to swim again.

With roughly 60 transitions, there is very little downtime. You’re constantly thinking about shoes, paddles, pull buoy, tether, nutrition, footing, and what comes next.

Then the weather decided to add another challenge.

Some swims were smooth. Others were full of whitecaps and rolling swells that lifted you up before slamming you back down into the water.

At one point I actually laughed underwater because it was so ridiculous.

Those same waves also made getting out of the water onto slick granite rocks especially entertaining.

And because Gothenburg apparently wanted to make sure we experienced everything, we even got a little rain during the race.

The Day Gravity Won

Apparently gravity decided neither of us was getting through the day untouched.

Åsa went first.

Ironically, it wasn’t one of the incredibly technical sections that got her.

It was an easy gravel path.

Technical running demands complete concentration. Every step is a decision. Every rock gets evaluated. Your brain is often working just as hard as your muscles. Then you get onto smooth ground, your brain relaxes, and sometimes that’s exactly when you let your guard down.

She hit hard.

Hard enough that her Garmin immediately asked if she needed emergency services.

After taking a couple of minutes to assess the damage, she decided everything was still functional and it was time to get moving again.

So we went.

Four teams had passed us while we were stopped, but there was never any panic. We simply settled back into our rhythm and started racing again.

The amazing thing is that Åsa is an outstanding technical runner. Early into the race, we made an in-race decision that she should lead the technical sections so that she could see and pick her own lines. We definitely moved faster as a team that way.

Many of the teams we passed throughout the day were in the hardest sections of the course. Slick granite. Boulder fields. Technical climbs and descents.

I have a feeling this won’t be our last one together.

She absolutely flew through them.

I joked with her after her fall that falling was supposed to be my job.

Later in the race, it became my turn.

Running through tall grass, I stepped into a hole, spun around and landed flat on my back.

As I looked up through the grass, three faces appeared above me.

Åsa and two other racers.

All I could think was that they looked exactly like sheep peering down at me.

“Are you okay?”

It was one of those moments that could have come straight out of a cartoon.

Thankfully I was.

Everyone laughed, they helped me back up, and we kept moving.

Why Racing With Åsa Was So Much Fun

One of the things I’ll remember most wasn’t the course.

It was my teammate.

I’ve raced with a lot of great partners over the years, and one of the best things about racing with Åsa was her calm, fun-loving demeanor throughout the entire day.

We joked when we could.

We pushed hard when it mattered.

Neither one of us let the setbacks define the race.

Both of our falls cost us valuable time, but instead of dwelling on them, we simply got back to work.

We communicated well through nearly all sixty transitions. Our nutrition plan was almost exactly as planned. I’d say we executed about 98% of it and we kept encouraging each other from start to finish.

Watching Åsa move through technical terrain was impressive. She seemed to dance across sections where other teams slowed to a crawl, and her ability to climb out of the water onto slippery granite was nothing short of amazing.

After losing four positions following her fall, we gradually hunted those teams back down and made up every place we’d lost but one.

That probably says more about our teamwork than our finish ever could.

The Jellyfish

Then there were the jellyfish.

Nearly every swim seemed to have another field waiting for us.

Early in the race they were mostly little stings here and there, but somewhere during the second half of the race, one wrapped completely around my left arm.

Mid-swim I rolled onto my back and started trying to scrape it off with the paddle on my right hand.

Meanwhile, Åsa promptly swam straight into my shoes while I floated there wrestling a jellyfish.

Not exactly our finest synchronized swimming moment.

Eventually I got the jellyfish off of my arm and we continued swimming.

Although my arm continued to sting and ooze well into the evening…and even after bedtime.

After the Finish

One of the best parts of swimrun isn’t crossing the finish line, but everything that happens afterward.

We spent the afternoon catching up with friends from Sweden, Germany, Denmark, and several other countries, along with fellow Americans Hannah Amanda, Fiona, Chris, and Chrissy. Wild Swimrun was in the house, too. It was great to see Helene again and to meet Celia.

There may have been ice cream. There may have been Indian food.

There were definitely plenty of race stories.

Then, almost before we’d had time to process the weekend, it was back to the airport Sunday morning.

A dizzyingly fast turnaround.

Work was waiting Monday.

Final Thoughts

We came to Gothenburg with one goal.

Finish in the top ten.

Mission accomplished.

But years from now, ninth place isn’t what I’ll remember.

I’ll remember laughing underwater while the waves tossed us around.

I’ll remember three “sheep” staring down at me through the tall grass.

I’ll remember trying to scrape a jellyfish off my arm while my teammate accidentally swam into my shoes.

I’ll remember watching a great technical runner pick herself up after a hard crash, calmly get back to work, and help us fight our way back through the field.

Mostly, though, I’ll remember another incredible weekend spent with good friends in one of the best communities in endurance sports.

Thank you, Åsa.

You were an absolute joy to race with.