Introduction to Swimrun

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We had our inaugural swimrun meetup in Hayama in preparation for Japan’s first swimrun race in Kaiyo, Tokushima. Umi and Hanae of Team Sunflower gave us an excellent introduction to the weird and wonderful world of swimrun and its rather peculiar rules, tactics, and equipment. The rules seemed fairly straightforward. The aim is to get from A to B through water and over land, via a number of checkpoints. All races are done in teams of two members who must stay within 10 metres of each other for the entire race. In a typical event, you might swim ten times and run ten times,  which means 20 transitions from land to sea, or sea to land. A swim leg can be a few metres or several hundred. A run leg may be along the rocks, or up and down a hill. You wear the same gear for the whole race, so you swim in shoes and run in a wetsuit. To compensate for having to swim in shoes, you are permitted to use swim paddles. You can also use a pull buoy to give buoyancy to your legs. As there are no aid stations, you must carry water and any food you need. You must also carry various safety items, such as a flotation device, first aid kit, map, and whistle. And if this weren’t enough to confuse you,  your partner is tied to you with a bungee cord.

From top right (clockwise): GurneyGoo anti-chafing cream; Itoi hemp compression socks; Salomon Hydrapak water bottle; full equipment set; Strokemakers swim paddles; SealLine dry bag; Restube CO2 inflated flotation device

Umi & Hanae explaining the basics

Umi and Hanae explained that tactics depend a lot on individual preferences. A big question is whether to swim in your shoes, which slows you down, or take them off and carry them somehow on each swim leg (which slows you down). Umi removes her shoes, Hanae keeps hers on. Likewise with swim paddles, some people run with them in their hands, others stuff them up their wetsuit. Courses are marked, but you can actually take any route to get to a checkpoint; this means map reading is important. Part way through Umi and Hanae’s explanation, I realised there is a lot more to this sport than doing a spot of swimming and running.

We also got some tips for swimming and running in the same shoes. Inevitably, running in wet shoes causes chafing, so we were recommended to lather feet in GurneyGoo, a wonder cream from New Zealand. We also had some great advice about preventing your shoes sinking in the swim. Swimrun wetsuits usually come with arms and legs, but serious swimrunners cut off the legs above the knee, and then use the cut part as buoyant calf sleeves. However, these tend to slide off during the race, so Umi recommended wearing compression socks, such as Itoi’s 5-toe hemp-fibre socks over the top of the sleeves.Finally they showed us the Restube flotation device they use, which is kept in a small waist belt and inflated automatically by a CO2 canister.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAOhama Bay

We then got to put all our new-found knowledge to the test in the tranquil waters of Ohama Bay. We decided to swim out to the big rock in the middle of the bay, climb over it, and swim on to Chojagaski. We would then run over to the seaward side of the islet, run around its northern edge, and swim back to Ohama beach.

Heading out to the rock

The Rock

We entered the water as a group, but within moments my partner was 20 metres ahead; instant disqualification! I can see why we need to be joined by a bungee cord. We got to the rock, climbed out, and then jumped and dived in for the next leg. A smile was already spreading on my submerged face. At Chojagasaki we exited the water and ran around its rocks and shells, and then reentered for the last leg back to Ohama. It was so fun we did it all again.

Chojagasaki

Everyone talked over lunch about the gear they would buy and the tactics they would employ. It seems that a new swimrun group has formed.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERALunch at the New Chandani

Senshu Marathon 2017

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I decided that I would like to do a mid-winter marathon too late to apply for the major races, which left me with few choices. Senshu Marathon is a medium-sized race (5,000 runners) and is near enough Kyoto to spend a couple of days there to do some sightseeing. The race location is uninspiring: you run from a park along one part of a bland coastline to a car park beneath an access road to Kansai Airport further down the same coastline. The course starts off northwards for 3 km, then does a U-turn and heads southwards for the next 34 km on mostly flat, straight road which undulates slightly through one strip of shops after another. At the southernmost point, it crosses two high bridges, does a U-turn, and recrosses the bridges to the finish. Despite the location, there were enthusiastic supporters along most of the route, some drum and music groups, as well as a few food stalls representing each ward at the finish area.

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My target time was 3:05 so I set my Garmin for 4:23 splits and kept to that pace until the 33 km mark. I was in a group for the first 20 km, but it started to drop its pace very gradually, so I moved on to the next group and then the next. At 25 km I was feeling good and was doing 4:20 to 4:23 splits which I kept until 33 km. My plan fell apart when I hit the first bridge. It rises only 18 metres in elevation but might just have well have been a huge mountain. My next split was 5:00 and after that I couldn’t get back into my rhythm.

At the top of the fourth and final bridge crossing – just 2 km from the finish – I realised I was about to hit the wall. My head went light, and my body suffered the familiar wobbles, but I had enough presence of mind to get out my last gel. I took a couple of sucks, and recovered on the downhill. I was in survival mode for the last kilometre but still felt a little disappointed that I had dropped so far off my pace in the last few kilometres. 3:08:13 is a new PB, but it is only 2 minutes faster than Kyoto which is much hillier. Perhaps the fact that the bridges came right at the end makes them a bigger factor, or their steepness is the problem. The wind might also have been a factor. Although it wasn’t strong, it wasn’t insignificant either. Flags were fluttering towards us for most of the race which must have had an effect. Whatever the causes, I have faded in all 4 marathons I have entered, so I need to find a way to finish strongly. Alternatively, I could plan for my fade by starting at a 4:20 pace to allow for a bit of fade. The problem is I don’t do enough marathons to experiment with different strategies.

After the race, Miki and I went to Kuromon Ichiba Market in Osaka which is a great place for post-race food and drink. We walked through the old covered arcades tasting takoyaki, seafood-filled miso soup, and barbecued shellfish, all washed down with energy-restoring beer.

Details

Start: 10:30 a.m.

Weather: sunny, 3-4 m/s southerly wind (mostly headwind); 4C at start; 8C at finish

Racewear: Shorts, long-sleeve top, thin long-sleeve thermal – I was a bit too warm

Nutrition: 4 x Powerbar Ume gels

Distance Split Lap Time of Day
Start 00:00:09 10:30:11
5km 00:22:05 0:21:56 10:52:07
10km 00:44:10 0:22:05 11:14:12
15km 01:06:24 0:22:14 11:36:26
20km 01:28:16 0:21:52 11:58:18
21.0975km 01:33:11 12:03:13
25km 01:50:20 0:22:04 12:20:22
30km 02:12:12 0:21:52 12:42:14
35km 02:34:51 0:22:39 13:04:53
40km 02:57:51 0:23:00 13:27:53
Finish 03:08:13 0:10:22 13:38:15

senshu-course-mapsenshu-course-profile

Swim Training in Atami

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAtami Bay

Atami is almost the definition of faded seaside glamour with its sloping souvenir arcades, terraces of crumbling concrete tower blocks, and threadbare palm trees. Apparently, it has been a resort for 1300 years, and in places it looks like it. The population is the same as that of Hayama, but there the similarity ends. Geographically, it is a partially submerged caldera with one half of the volcano collapsed under the sea. In reality, it is basically an amphitheatre of similarly collapsed concrete rising up from a clear-water bay with yet more concrete dumped into it. Despite its sorry architectural state, it is a great place for swim training. All that concrete in the bay has turned it into a 500-metre long salt-water swimming pool. And through the blur of swimming goggles, you can even imagine you are swimming in Rio.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAGuerrilla gardening on the crumbling beach front

I met Mike at the station and we walked down through arcades crowded with morning shoppers, down narrow streets and steep stairs to the seafront where we grabbed a spot at the end of a small concrete jetty. We strapped our bags to a handy chain and entered the water for a 750-metre warm-up loop of the deserted bay. The water was crystal clear, so we could see right down to the bottom, even 200 metres out at the line of tetrapods. It was also warm for February – perhaps 16C.

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After the warm-up loop we started our sets: 20 strokes out, 20 strokes back, short rest, 40 strokes out, 4o back, rest, 60-60, 80-80, and finally a lung-testing 100-100. We followed this with a descending set, 100, 80, 60, 40, and 20. I have finally come round to the realisation that just swimming up and down a pool for 30 minutes, or taking a leisurely loop of Hayama Bay, is not going to get me beyond 25-minute pace for 1500 metres. Doing these sets with Mike pushed me near my limit and left my shoulders aching. And it was a lot of fun to try to keep Mike within reasonable distance as he pulled away during each set.

After the sets, we warmed down with a smaller loop of the bay, got out, changed, and headed back to the station. From Tokyo it is 48 minutes on the Shinkansen, but an hour longer on the regular train. Next time, I might take my bike and running shoes and make a day of it.

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My Garmin Data