The seed was planted two years ago. I’d completed my 10k marathon swim (which in itself was it’s own journey), and I remember thinking, huh, that wasn’t impossible…I wonder if I could swim further?! Could I complete an ultra swim? With body respect and JOY?!
And the seed germinated.
I started exploring online. I found the Skaha Lake Ultra, and I KNEW it was the event for me. Nestled in the glorious Okanogan, on the outskirts of Penticton, Skaha Lake holds a special place in my heart.
Back in 2001 I completed Ironman Canada in Penticton, BC. Though the swim for this triathlon was in Lake Okanogan (on the other end of Penticton, it neighbours Skaha Lake. And during my training for Ironman, I did more than a few training swims in the lake. The Ironman run also takes you along Skaha Lake coastline from Penticton to OK Falls. I remember running along the lakeshore, exhausted from the persistent 38C heat and dreaming about swimming the distance instead of running it.
So when I read that the Skaha Ultra would have me SWIM from Penticton to OK Falls…I knew it was the ultra swim for me.
The JOYFUL journey: getting to the start line
Though I’d independently created my own plan for my 10k Marathon swim, I decided it was time to hire a coach. So back in January of this year, I connected with Amy Ennion. Amy is a UK-based ultra swimmer and coach I’d met via Instagram (a reminder that socials aren’t all bad). She has many accomplishments to her name, but I was most struck by her most recent end-to-end swim of Lake Geneva in Switzerland. The tips and training she shared on her socials showed me that she led with body respect. She wasn’t a “no pain, no gain” coach – she regularly talked about the importance of rest and listening to your body, so I knew she “got it.” She also posted a lot of body-positive content, so I knew her philosophy would be aligned. I wanted to do this journey with JOY and body respect at the forefront.
Plan in hand my training began in February.
It should be noted, that prior to February I was (and had been) swimming 45-60-minutes, 2-3x per week for 3+ years. This strong foundation was a key to my success in Ultra training.
Training-wise (for the fitness nerds out there) my training consisted of 3 swims per week from February through to May, at which point things ramped up to 4 swims. The early part of training was focused on building strength and power in the water (read: lots of speed and threshold work). We also incorporated paddles (exactly what you think, paddles you put on your hands to challenge your body to push more water and build more strength with good form). I also spent a lot of time focused on technique. In shorter swims you can get away with poor form, in longer swims there’s a bigger risk of injury if you’re doing something funky or inefficient!
I loved the training (and so did my body).
It was fun and I felt genuinely inspired by the process. I deeply appreciated Amy’s workouts and taking a “don’t think, just do” attitude when it came to what I was doing each day. While I continued to be deeply attuned to my body and listen for feedback, I was mostly able to follow the program to the letter. Seeing my strength and speed gains was deeply rewarding. I was seeing times in the pool I’d NEVER seen in my life, not even when I did Ironman at 22. At 45 years old this felt like a really cool data point (bodies are SO cool!).
As we headed into May and June my volume (mileage) began to ramp up. I was typically doing 2-3 workouts per week focused on speed, strength, and technique and one swim per week building distance. By the time I headed outdoors in June (once the waters were warmer), I was up to a long swim of 5k. And it felt amazing.
The approach in this plan was to complete two swims back to back (Friday and Saturday). I’d swim 4k on Friday, followed by a building longer swim of 5k-10k on Saturday.
Cross-training was key.
Throughout this time I also incorporated cross-training (walking, hiking, strength training, spinning, foam rolling, and flexibility). This cross-training enabled me to challenge my cardiovascular system in different ways, and also helped me focus on injury prevention. The variety also ensured I didn’t burn out from my swimming volume, and have fun!
In my strength sessions I focused on building the strength and endurance of my shoulder girdle, core, lats, and hips. I also focused on a lot of cross-body movements that mimic the demands of swimming.
Proactive rehab was also key.
Before I began I also scheduled regular Physiotherapy and Massage Therapy. I saw each of my practitioners once per month (Physio a bit more frequently at the start due to a neck injury from a rear-ending in January…I know, not ideal timing!). Shout out to Erika at Vancouver Island Physiotherapy and Marshall at Three Cedars Wellness Collective.
I didn’t go it alone.
While swimming isn’t the most social of sports (given you have your face down in water for the vast majority of the training), having social support was key. I want to shout out my swimming and lifeguard friends who saw me on deck before and after swims and asked how my training was going (or commented on what they noticed/ offered technical tips!). I also want to thank my swimmer and non-swimmer friends who asked about my progress or cheered me along as I shared my progress on Instagram and Strava (each like, comment, and conversation bouyed my spirit). And I can’t go further without acknowledging my outdoor swim pal Donna. She joined me for several open water swims, even driving to Spider Lake to join me when our local lake was too cold in early June.
And of course my husband and two sons. A fair amount of coordination was required to ensure my two competitive summer swimming teens and I got to our various water bodies for practice. And while my non-swimming husband and speed-swimming teens might not 100% get it, they still quietly support me as I chase down my goals (and take on more than their fair share of dog walks and being kid-taxi so I could chase said goals).
Race weekend.
When I first signed up (read: as SOON as registration opened), I had already asked my dear friend Anna to be my paddler (it’s mandatory for registration and racing to have a support paddler). She was immediately game and I felt so relieved and honoured that she was willing to take on this adventure with me. Having a friend who has known you for 25+ years, who knows you deeply, and with whom I can be 100% authentic, is the perfect person to support an endeavour like this.
We drove up to Penticton the day before and the nerves began to hit. But in my heart I KNEW I could do it. I’d completed a 10k in training and felt AMAZING. I knew I had another 1.8k in me.
And then I saw the lake. Our Airbnb was situated at the top of a hill overlooking the lake and from there I could see the huge expanse of water I was about to swim. The WILD thing? I couldn’t see the start AND finish from my eagle’s nest viewpoint. Throughout my training I had completed laps in our local Westwood Lake (many, many laps). So looking at (not even) the entire lake hit me. Hard.
I took a moment and let it all sink in. I allowed all the feelings to simply be. I rode their waves.
Fear. Doubt. Happiness. Disbelief. Awe. Wonder. Apprehension. ALLLL of them.
Then I harnessed my inner coach.
I reminded myself of the same core message I’ve shared with the hundreds of athletes I’ve trained over the years in running and triathlon:
You are strong.
You’ve done the work.
You’ve put in the time and your body and mind know how.
This is your victory lap.
Get out there and enjoy it.
I also added this (with my hand on my heart): It’s going to be hard, but you, my love can do hard things.
Race morning arrived.
I woke up feeling good. My sleep had been somewhat restless, but decent (to be expected in a new bed, new location, with new sounds, and a huge event the next day). I held tight to the knowledge that resting in bed is also helpful.
I had my breakfast of oats, almond yogurt, and banana, and packed up. I took one last look at the lake from the viewpoint of our Airbnb… (hand on heart) “it’s a beautiful day to swim a really long way.”
As we drove to the start, the sun just peaking out over the bluffs we saw the outline of a deer on the ridge. I was struck by the beauty and felt a profound sense of awe, wonder, and appreciation for all the creatures that call this breathtaking area home. A wave of calm washed over me as I felt a profound knowing that at some level they were going to watch over me as I took on this swim.
The buzz of the start line
When we arrived at the race site the energy was buzzing. Athletes and their paddlers were wandering around and the excitement/ nerves were palpable. The rental kayaks were running late but it didn’t phase me the way I thought it would. I felt a sense of energized calm mixed with a deep knowing that it’d be just fine.
Rental kayak sorted, the race director called the athletes and paddlers for the pre-race briefing. He reminded us of the cutoff (8k by the 4.5h mark), and that we’d likely experience boat traffic. He encouraged us to swim to the left of the lake (to minimize the impact of boat wake) and reminded our paddlers to stay within 4m at all times for safety. We were allowed to approach our paddler, and even hang onto the kayak for our feeds, but we must not make forward progress (this is one of the formal rules for marathon swimming).
Lined up along the beach I was struck by the courage I was surrounded by. 56 swimmers. Ranging in age from late teens to mid 70’s (hello, life goals). Each one of them here to take on this lake, one stroke at a time. Each with their own reasons and inspiration.
I gave Anna a huge final hug. The tears came (for us both), and I had full faith that our next embrace would be at the finish line.
Before I knew it the countdown was on.
5-4-3-2-1 and we were off.
There was a giant yellow bouy at 2k, 6k, 8k and then an arch and flashing LED lights to mark the finish. From the start of the lake you can’t even see the 2k bouy well. So I made the decision to simply sight Anna. With every breath to my left I could see her. Bobbing along in her yellow kayak.
I wanted to spend the first couple of kilometers just finding my groove.
1-2-3-breathe. Smoothe-steady-strong-breathe.
Before long the 2k bouy was in sight. Once I got there I had my first of many feeds.
(for the nerds) My nutrition strategy was to take in a gel or sport gummies at 2k, and then every 30-min after that (more often if I felt the need). Each feed the goal was to take in at least 1 gel or the equivalent in gummies PLUS some high carbohydrate electrolyte drink (1/2 a bottle). Note: I also take the strategy of front loading my electrolytes and fuel in the day prior and morning of (big breakfast and a couple of energy balls right before the start). There is no way to take in your energy requirements during a swim like this, the goal is to keep the blood sugar stable enough to keep going (and of course refuel when I’m done).
The entire first 6k felt magical.
I felt SO strong. So steady. I settled easily into my rhythm.
1-2-3-breathe-1-2-3-breathe-1-2-3-breathe-1-2-3-breathe-1-2-3-breathe-1-2-3-breathe-1-2-3-breathe…
I’d asked Anna to flag me when my 30-minutes were up, but I knew without her telling me (like clockwork to the seconds according to Anna!). I felt so in sync with my body. She was telling me what she needed. And I was listening. What a gift Intuitive Eating and better body attunement can be when it comes to fuelling in a race! It was so powerful to notice the progress I’ve made through my intention and attention to this aspect of training.
Wonder turns to wondering if…
Around the 6k mark (and bouy) I noticed my right shoulder was chatty. It was a different sensation than I’d never had.
The first reaction to noticing pain is always, OH NO, is this it?! Is this what is going to take me down?! ((oh hey, fear/ worry/ anxiety/ worst-case scenario-land brain). STOP. I caught myself and my chatty brain. SLOW DOWN. Check-in with the present moment.
What do you notice?
I noticed I was doing some course correcting with my right arm using a stroke pattern that wasn’t my usual, could that be it?
I chatted with my body.
“Hey, love…I hear you. And I’d really like to do this. I’m noticing you don’t like this particular pattern, thanks for letting me know that doesn’t work for you. If I make that correction, is it ok if I continue?”
It might sound silly. But there is such beauty in these conversations with body. She and I we are a team these days, and it’s so empowering and rooted in respect to have these chats.
She gave me permission. I made some corrections to my stroke. Focused on technique. We continued. And…
She continued to chat. I continued to stay in communication.
At about 8k I took a Tylenol. This is also when I realized the calm waters we’d started with were picking up a current, and not in a favourable direction. It was work to tread water beside Anna during feeds and not lose ground (aka drift backward).
Anna and I chatted about what to do. I felt confident I wasn’t doing irreparable damage, and decided to carry-on, with a few tweaks.
I did my best to course-correct my position without aggravating my shoulder. I eased off my stroke in favour of kick (similar to a technical drill I did many times in training).
I did some breaststroke, and backstroke to shake things up.
And where I landed was that there wasn’t really anything efficient that could do other than modified freestyle. My right shoulder and arm didn’t have much power but they could keep me going. And I could kick.
I also cried.
And screamed. And felt ALLLLL the many feels that arose. Disappointment. Frustration. Overwhelmed. Concerned. Scared. Bitter. Let down.
I’d NEVER had an issue in training. Not one swimming-related injury in 8 months. My fuelling felt on point, my energy was good. The conditions weren’t perfect, but they were pretty darn good.
Why was this happening?
Because this is the nature of endurance sport and life in general. It’s not perfect. Remember…you just posted about this on socials (Facebook/ Instagram). BOTH/AND.
Because this is why you’re doing this. Because your body is facing these health challenges AND she’s strong and super badass. BOTH/AND.
Because life is difficult and heart-breaking and it’s also beautiful and amazing. BOTH/AND.
I refocused. Here it is. Here I am. With the magic, comes the misery (sometimes). And so it goes.
Keep going. Smooth (stroke) – Steady (stroke) – Strong (stroke) – Breathe.
I counted up all the many people I’m grateful for. Starting with my dearest Anna paddling beside me. I could feel her love and support with every stroke.
Just. Keep. Going.
I played counting games (counting to 50 before I was allowed to look for the finish to see my progress).
I sang songs in my head (I Won’t Back Down by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers was on repeat).
Within about 500m of the finish I shouted between strokes to Anna…
“I’ve got this!”
She replied, “Yeah you do.”
She paddled off to the paddler finish, and I carried onto the big inflatable arch I was so longing to pass through.
My hands touched the sand, and when it finally became too shallow to swim, I began to walk.
It all felt surreal.
I hugged Anna, like I knew I would.
I did it, like I knew I would.
What I learned from swimming 11.8k
(and the hundreds of training kilometers that got me there).
My body is all that, and all the things (both can be true). My body is strong. She is capable. And enduring. She is resilient (AF). She is also impermanent. She has needs, wants, and challenges she’s overcoming. Both are true. As is everything that lives between.
Journeys like this are an opportunity to rise with intention (towards) and attention (to the here and now). To concurrently look towards the finish line and be here in the present moment. Holding my values of body respect and joy helped me direct myself toward the finish line while remaining in the here and now.
Embodiment is an empowered and empowering stance. Tuning in and listening to my body enables me to listen for the whispers and respond. When met with kindness, compassion and grace, the bodymind are capable of extraordinary things.
Having extraordinary people in your life is vital (and it doesn’t happen by accident or luck). Find the people who say “yeah you can.” People who cheer loudly. People who lift you up. It’s game-changing. It’s also something you curate mindfully. It’s work, but it’s worth it. Show up for others the way you hope others will show up for you. And ask for what you need with clear communication.
Chasing down goals is a lot of work. Taking time for rest is vital. Both during the training cycle, and after a big event. There were days during training that my body said no. I listened. And I was rewarded when I returned. Right now, 2 weeks post-event, my body is telling me in all the ways that right now all she wants to do is go for dog walks. So that’s what we’re doing. If I’m inspired, I’ll throw in some swims in the next few weeks, but for now, we’re resting hard.
I am enough. I was enough before I tackled this goal. And I’m enough after. My worth isn’t tied to my accomplishments. Chasing goals is about all the things listed above (and so much more). My enoughness isn’t something I need to earn. It just is.
What’s next
Back when running and triathlon coaching were my primary job, I used to coach clients to think about “what’s next” before they toe to the start line. It’s a helpful mental strategy to maintain momentum. Of course, it’s vital to celebrate the victory, or process the disappointment, but it’s also helpful to remember that this isn’t the end, but a mark on a longer journey.
And in this journey, this most certainly isn’t the end. I’ve found a love for marathon swimming. And while the next few months will be focused on recovery and moving for joy (and resting/ rehabbing my shoulder*), I’m already exploring what’s next. Because while this swim was epic and I’m beyond proud of myself and my awesome body, it’s a mark on a longer joyful journey.
Afterword notes:
*my physio believes I pinched my bursa (which based on my reflection makes sense). It’s 95% in my activities of daily living 2 weeks later, but not 100% and still not super keen on swimming. It felt OK during my short swim earlier this week, but it was a bit aggravated afterwards. With some physio and rest I know it’ll be good as new before long. PLUS I now have some new technical insights to work on through my off-season (fall).
I’ll spend the fall swimming 2-3 per week along with my other activities (teaching spin, hiking, walking the dog, and strength training). Then come December I’ll start to think about what 2025 might bring. At this point I have a few ideas, but I’m also reserving the right to trust the unfolding and allow my next step to present itself (it always does).
Racing nerd afterword notes:
I am proud to report that I finished in my goal time of 5 hours (technically it was 5:00:09). I was 5th out of 8 in my age category, and 34/42 finishers. Pretty cool. Go body/mind/me!
