Open water as art

The science of swimming will make you fast in the pool. It’s the art of swimming that makes you fast in the open water.

This is not the sort of art you make up as you go along. It requires a plan, then a backup plan, and it requires thinking carefully about everything that is to come. And it isn’t necessarily a straightforward process. Should you swim in a straight line? Usually, but not always. Do you swim as fast as your arms will take you? Maybe. Is your aim to exit the water in the fastest time possible? Usually not. Should you always try to beat those in front of you to the shore? Depends.

First, you need to think about what it’s going to be like in once in the water. You need to get in the water and visualize the turn buoys. Look for high markers above them like buildings, mountains, parking lots, etc. Often in the race the buoys become invisible, so if you have a high reference marker that you’ve identified pre-race, you can head in the right direction.

Find out which way the current is going. If this is an ocean swim, this can be critical. I remember a race in Oceanside in the late 80’s where the surf was breaking 12 feet—over the pier—and there was a 4-knot side current. They had us in a start area in front of the first buoy and the gun went off. Everyone hit the water excitedly and began swimming out, except for me and a few who knew to follow. I ran a quarter mile up-current before hitting the water, and swam straight out. By the time I hit the first buoy the rest of the field had been swept through the pier and had to get out, run back and start again.

This technique is more widely known now, but I still see people swimming straight for the buoy when they ought not to. Calculate the current, find your correct entry spot and go straight out. The current will carry you where you need to go, and if you overcompensate for the strength of the current, no problem, because now you can swim with the current to get to the marker. If you under shoot it then you have to swim upstream to get there. That is a lot of wasted time and energy. Throw a tennis ball into the water to see how fast the current is moving, and then plan your entry point.

I’ve noticed an example of good behavior that is usual in the pro ranks and rare in the age-group ranks. Most AGers don’t go into the water before the race. I know that it is cold, and who wants to stand around shivering before the race? But here is what happens when you don’t get cold before the race. You run to the water, with your legs telling your body that they need the blood flow. Then you hit the cold water, and now your skin needs the blood for warming. Your arms and lungs fight for whatever blood is left. You basically start to go into shock. Your breathing gets quick and labored, your arms start to burn. A mini panic will ensue and you will have to slow down to recover.

Your body’s survival mode will shunt the blood to the vital organs and skin under these circumstances. If you get in and warm up prior to the race, then the body has time to adapt and the blood is already where it needs to be. This also gives you a chance to pick out those visual markers from water level.

Your choice of start point can set the tone for the rest of your race. The pack you get in at the beginning is vital. If you have a bad start you will never move past the flailing hoards to the group that will stretch your ability and set you up for your best possible swim. I remember years ago when my training buddy Jurgen Zack asked me how I always so easily got into the lead swim group at Ironman. He swam just a little slower than me, but he always ended up in the 4th or 5th group. Having been in hundreds of cutthroat lifeguard swim races, you become familiar with every sort of tactical treachery. When you swim near piers, rock jetties, or any other man-made objects, there is a natural current that runs along them. I would start right next to the pier, and for that first 150 yards or so it was like swimming in a river. Then when I got to the turnaround boat, I would swim right along the boat. I would go from the back of the pack to near the front because of the current along the side of the boat. Then there are the natural rip currents that happen in the ocean. You always want to jump into them on the way out, and avoid them on the way in. Same with piers, swim close on the way out, and swing wide on the way in. You see over time there is a trench formed under piers and along jetties, so that the water uses this area to return to the deep. (Jurgen is now a second pack swimmer.)

Once you have established the pack you are going to swim in, there are many things you can do to help yourself get a relaxing, fast swim. I know a lot of you are coached to alternate breath every third stroke. That’s okay for training, but I never do in a race. Even breathing every stroke you can only exchange about 80% of your oxygen, so why put yourself into more oxygen debt? It’s okay to know how to breathe on both sides, just don’t hold your breath by alternating.

You want to find someone to draft somewhere in the middle/front of the pack. In large groups there are often people that "break the chain" and it’s too late to close the gap by the time you see it. I did a race in Japan where there was an $800 swim prime. One other American—Alex Begg—and two fast Aussie swimmers were there. Alex and I knew each other well. He had pulled many swims we were in, and then I would come around in the end and take the prime. It really pissed him off, but he was just one of those guys that liked to pull, and what could he do? So before the race I went to him and proposed a deal. We knew that there would be four of us out there fighting for the money, and the Aussies were good. I proposed that with about a mile to go I would make sure I was on Alex’s feet, with the Aussies trailing behind me. They were smart guys, willing to just sit on and sprint for the finish. But not smart enough on that day. After the last turn buoy I began to slow down slightly. Not enough to really notice, but enough that Alex began to swim away. Before the Aussies could figure it out, Alex had about six body lengths on us. I had blocked them just long enough so that Alex could win the swim. Alex and I agreed to split the prime, so I made $400 for getting fourth in the swim that day. The Aussies still have no idea what happened.

When you have to fight for somone’s feet in the group, always come in opposite your breathing side if you can. Another reason that I preferred to start next to the pier at Hawaii was that once I got clear of the pier there was no one on my breathing side. When you battle with someone on your breathing side you get water in the mouth, usually lose some breaths, which puts you into oxygen debt. If you keep your breathing side clear, then the fight won’t bother you as much, and it keeps your goggles clear from the flailing arms and elbows.

Never swim side by side with someone pulling clear water. Battle as long as you can, but if it isn’t going to happen, then slowly pull in behind the person or group. Most likely you are all going to get to the finish about the same time, so do it with as little energy and stress as possible. Pick the battles that will make a difference, and avoid the no-win situations.

When your group comes up to a buoy you may have noticed that it usually strings out single file after the turn. These are dangerous spots, and many people get dropped off their groups here. I did a race at Wildflower one year and I remember that there were two new young hot shots in the race for the first time: Peter Reid and Andy Carlson. Both were great swimmers, and I knew that Andy—a national caliber distance swimmer— would pull the swim that day. If you know the Wildflower course, then you know how brutal the bike ride is. It is a real advantage to be able to ride with a group, and a nightmare to ride it solo. During the swim I positioned myself third in line behind Andy and Peter, and at the turnaround buoy I let them go. I wagered that they’d have enough of a gap so that they would be on the bike course without the group, and I made someone else pull the newly formed chase group. Of course the new puller was poor Alex Begg, who thought that he was finally getting to draft a swim. Peter and Andy rode solo the entire ride, and I left the group at mile 42 and rode by a totally burned out Peter at mile-53, and ran by a walking Andy at about mile 10. To this day I’m sure that neither of them have any idea that the tactics I used had an influence on their races. Had they not swam away from the rest of us, they would have ridden in the big bike group, and I’m sure the results would have been very different at the end of the day (as has been the case so many times in Peter's fine career).

But the buoy’s are dangerous, so prepare for all buoy turns by getting up front, or at least by staying on your toes, and by closing any gaps quickly before they become insurmountable.

When you are firmly planted on your pack-mule’s feet, slow down your stroke and take long pulls. This will help relax you and keep you from hitting the feet in front. Be a silent cling-on, and your puller will forget that you are there, and will swim steady. Don’t leave the group for what might seem greener pastures. Often it looks like you are going a little off course, but the small advantage gained on a straighter course usually won’t make up for the 5 to 10 seconds per hundred you’ll get in a good draft. Unless of course you missed your target group, and you are the unlucky person pulling the slower group.

(Editor's note: In addition to a 15-year career as a professional triathlete, Monty will retire this year from the L.A. County Fire Department after that much time and more spent lifeguarding at L.A.'s beaches).