Almanac Swimming: Pier to Pub 2023 – Postscript

 

 

 

 

The 2023 Lorne Pier to Pub ocean swim is over, and I successfully completed my 22^nd swim despite some reservations I raised in my previous post.

 

Up with the alarm at 5am, a quick breakfast and shower before leaving for Lorne around 6am. I decided to drive rather than catch the bus, and I wanted to be in Lorne early if I was to find a carpark.

 

The morning was overcast though not cold, a thick mist hung over the Otways as I drove through the ranges. Arriving in Lorne around 7am a mist was still evident over the hills and the ocean and I wondered if the forecast of 30 degrees would be reached.

 

Surprisingly, ample all day parking was available so I parked close to the changerooms, the beach café and shops and other facilities nearby.  The first positive for the day!

 

I decided to stretch my legs with a walk along the beach and the main street before the crowds hit as they did later in the morning. It was pleasant at that time of the morning, a lot of walkers, joggers, and swimmers were enjoying the magnificence of this wonderful beach even in the misty and overcast conditions.

 

Registrations opened earlier than in recent years so I lined up before 8am to beat the rush. After collecting my ‘goodies’ bag from registration I usually bump into friends, fellow swimmers, and even Almanackers. Chatted with Anson Cameron who was participating in his first P2P, noticed Gareth Andrews and Ray Wilson previous guest speakers at Footy Almanac luncheons, and caught up with friends.

 

Thank goodness I had  eaten and had a coffee earlier, the queues for a table and to order coffees were long and extended out along the street in all the eating establishments that were open. Surprisingly some cafes were not open.

 

Walking in the shallows gave my body a chance to adapt to the water temperature as it was my first time in the sea for some time. If the sea is too cold it sometimes brings on cramps while I swim so I was confident that would not happen. I was in the right frame of mind.

 

The sun came out around midday and quickly burnt away the remaining mist, and became noticeably hotter. 30 degrees was looking more than probable.

 

About an hour before my swim my preparations begin. Goggles, earplugs, timing band, swim cap, Vaseline,  sunscreen, and wetsuit are assembled. Next, the difficult confrontation of the ‘wetsuit dance’ to slide into my wetsuit.  As anyone who has worn a wetsuit surfing or swimming will know they are very difficult and time consuming to get into! I wear a short sleeved suit and it is imperative to rub Vaseline around my shoulders, armpits, and neck to protect me against chafing while swimming. The salty and sandy water present painful outcomes if not protected against.

 

I meet up with my friend Frank to take the twenty minute walk to the pier. That in itself provides a few obstacles. The sand is hot, small twigs, dried seaweed, and rocks all provide traps for the unwary. My feet feel the effects of walking barefooted for the first time for sometime and stubbing my toe does not help. Walking on the gravel path and stony bitumen for the last section of the walk was trying to say the least!

 

Time for final preparations, we help one another zip up, into the water for a quick swim and stretch to check goggles and earplugs are sealed properly then back to the assembly area.

 

Swimmers are set off in five minute waves according to our age groups. A lot of good humour, handshaking, and good lucks are offered as we make our way down the ramp and negotiate our way across rocks to the starting line.  The starting line is parallel with the pier and stretches for about fifty metres between two large buoys where we positions ourselves. Without thinking about it I find myself positioned in the middle. We tread water waiting for the starter’s instruction. “Three minutes to the gun” he tells us. The deeper water is cold but my body is acclimatising to it.  “Thirty seconds” then the starting gun is fired and we’re off!

 

It’s always crazy at the start, madness! Everyone jostles to claim their position. A flurry of arms and legs are flying everywhere, avoiding a kick or elbow to the face or head is imperative. The water is churned up, a sighter to aim for on the shore is taken, and a rhythm importantly is established, or needs to be established.

 

I felt I got away to a good start, my normal rhythm of four strokes to each breathe is happening, there are plenty of swimmers to the right of me to provide the ‘black line’ to follow and hopefully a direct route to the finish. However, this positioning changed often as you pass or are passed by other swimmers, some veering off in all directions.

 

The water is sandy with floating bits and pieces of seaweed, the tide has turned and should push swimmers towards shore though I don’t experience that effect, warm and cold currents are felt, small, lumpy waves make it difficult to take sighters at times.

 

After the first one hundred metres or so the difference between swimming in a pool and the ocean becomes palpable. The extra flotation derived from the ocean and my wetsuit places me higher out of the water than in a pool making kicking difficult to the extent I stop attempting to kick. Obviously I’m now only using my arms to swim and the extra effort required becomes energy sapping. My breathing rate alters as a result, I’m taking a breath every stroke something I have not practised in the pool and should have I advise myself.

 

Around the halfway mark is a critical time in the swim. The realisation there is still a long way to go can be mind numbing, and it is easy to become negative about my progress. I tell myself to remain positive. I’m feeling twinges in my thighs, the onset of cramps worries me, and a mouthful of Loutit Bay does not help either. I stop, briefly tread water to ascertain my position then realign with my onshore marker and lift my heavy arms and stroke back into motion. The surf club is closer, not far to go I tell myself, and my mind reminds me of – rhythm, rhythm, rhythm!  I try kicking again but to little or no effect.

 

The sea is noticeably warmer indicating I’m closer to shore, and the sandy bottom doesn’t look as deep as it has been. Not far now I tell myself.

 

Swimmers converge seemingly all at once as we pass through the final buoys before the run up the beach to the finish line.  I try to catch a small wave but can’t, in all my P2P swims I have never caught a wave, and yet I consider myself a good body surfer. I don’t know why this is.

 

At last, at long last my feet touch the bottom to my relief but my joy is short lived as my legs twinge and I feel cramp coming on. I try lifting my knees to run but they don’t want to move. I resign myself to walking through the shallows hoping the twinges go. Because of the stage of the tide there is still fifty metres or so to the shore. Reaching the beach I again endeavour to run or jog but my legs say no, and it’s a slow walk to the finishing gate.

 

I’m exhausted. A volunteer offers to unzip my wetsuit and nod, unable to speak, in appreciation. The release of the tightness of my wetsuit around my chest is a relief, and I begin to feel normal. Another volunteer offers a cup of tepid water. It does not go down well.

 

I catch up with Frank, and others on the beach and we discuss and relive our swims.

 

My swim took me 24:20 minutes and I finished 53/116 in my age group, Legends (70-79).

 

 

 

More from Col Ritchie can be read Here.

 

 

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