The Scenic Route: A Wetsuit, a Lake and the Swim That Got Longer
Triathlon Stories, Part 2
Kevin is 35, runs a solid 10K in 44 minutes, and loves new kit. New shoes, new watch, new running vest with eleven pockets he has never used. So when he entered his first open-water sprint triathlon at the local lake (750 metres of swimming, then bike, then run), he bought the shiniest wetsuit in the shop.
He tried it on in the living room, looked in the mirror, and told his partner he looked "like a seal with a mortgage". Then he made a decision that many runners make: the wetsuit floats, so the swimming will take care of itself.
The tow rope that wasn't
A wetsuit does help. It lifts your hips and legs, and for a runner with sinking legs that feels like magic. In the book From Runner to Efficient Swimmer: Master the Crawl, it's called a tailwind, not a tow rope. It makes good swimming easier. It doesn't turn poor swimming into good swimming.
Kevin found this out about 200 metres into the race. His legs were floating nicely. But his head was up, his arms were thrashing, and his breathing was short and fast. The suit was doing its job. Kevin wasn't doing his.
No black line
And then came the second surprise. In the pool there's a black line on the bottom, and a wall every 25 metres to tell you where you are. In a lake, there's green water, a few orange buoys, and the vague idea that the finish is "over there somewhere".
Kevin swam with his head down for twenty strokes, looked up, and found the buoy was now on his left. He corrected. Twenty strokes later, it was on his right. He was zigzagging across the lake like a shopping trolley with a bad wheel.
His watch said he swam 870 metres. The course was 750. Kevin calls it "the scenic route".
Sighting without stopping
Everybody drifts in open water. Without a line to follow, nobody swims perfectly straight. The trick is to check your direction often, and to do it without breaking your stroke.
Lift your eyes, not your whole head, just above the water like a crocodile. Take a quick look for the buoy, then turn your head to the side and breathe as normal. Look, then breathe. Not both at once with your head up high, or your legs will sink, wetsuit or not.
Do it every six to ten strokes at first. If the water is calm and you're swimming straight, you can look less often. If it's choppy or busy, look more.
Four open-water rules for your first lake triathlon
- Swim in your wetsuit before race day. Never race in a suit you've only worn in the living room. Practise in open water, with supervision.
- Keep your swim technique. Head low, long body, calm bubbles. The suit helps a good stroke. It doesn't replace one.
- Crocodile eyes, then breathe. Look forward with your eyes just above the water, then turn to breathe.
- Pick something big. On race morning, find a tree, a house or a church tower behind each buoy. Big things are easier to spot than small orange balls.
What Kevin took away from the lake
- A wetsuit is a tailwind, not a tow rope.
- Without a black line, everyone drifts. Sight early and sight often.
- Lift your eyes, not your head, so your legs stay up.
- The straightest swim is usually the fastest swim.
Kevin is doing the same race again next summer. He has bought new goggles. Of course he has.
Kevin learned the hard way that kit doesn't solve technique, and a lake doesn't forgive. Open water stacks everything on top of you at once: cold, depth you can't see, no wall, no line and other people's elbows. If your stroke isn't automatic, all of that lands on a busy mind at the same moment, and the runner's instinct to lift the head and fight takes over. That's why open water can't be learned from an article on a Tuesday evening before a Saturday race. It needs a careful, step-by-step transfer: a calm, automatic stroke in the pool first, then a supervised first swim in open water on a warm day, then the wetsuit, then sighting, then colder water, each step only when the one before feels easy. The book From Runner to Efficient Swimmer: Master the Crawl walks you through exactly that sequence, including the mental side: what to do when your mind starts asking what's down there. It's an established process, built so your subconscious gets used to open water a little at a time, until the lake simply feels like a very big pool with a nicer view.
Next in the series: the first Olympic-distance triathlon, and the swimmer who kicked so hard she had nothing left for the bike.
Take it easy, God bless you.