Ödyssey Swimrun Orcas Island took place on September 22, 2019 and since then, as I reflect on this world-class race and write this race report, I keep coming back to the following thoughts: mythical mountains, collaborative competition, and motivational mantras.
Mythical Mountains
Moran State Park on Orcas Islands, Washington was host to this challenging, thigh-burning race. Covering a total of 24 miles consisting of 13 run segments (~21 miles) and 12 swim segments (~3 miles) with over 6000 feet of elevation gain, this ÖTILLÖ merit event was no joke. But, the magic of this special place is what draws me in each year, and will continue to do so for years to come. With towering canopies of old-growth forest, fluorescent moss draping over giant rocks and cliff faces, and dense mist curling it’s way through the dynamic landscape, this is the place where you expect to see a unicorn lazily eating a wild mushroom around the next bend.
Race morning was cool and rainy (but in a Pacific Northwest grocery mist kinda way) with air temps in the low 60s and water temps in the high 50s for lakes and high 40s for the ocean swim….brrr. Annie and I wore our shorty swimrun wetsuits (with sleeves) and found them to be just the right attire for the duration of the race. Within the first 100 feet of the race, we were deep in classic herd mentality as all the racers took a wrong turn. Heads up racing people! However, in true swimrun spirit, fellow competitors beckoned us the other direction, and like neoprene sheep, we all gave out a collective woo hoo! and giggled our way back on course.
Collaborative Competition
At about mile 6, we began our steep ascent up Mt. Constitution, gaining approximately 1800 feet over the next 5 miles. At the base of this climb, we joined up with, who we like to call our swimrun big brothers, Caleb Barber and Brian Goodremont of team San Juan Outfitters. We are always neck and neck with these two in any given swimrun event and feed off of each others’ energy. We felt great on the climb, pushing it a little harder than we possibly should have (as I learned the hard way a bit later), and chatting with each other the whole way up.
Half way up the mountain, we had our longest swim of 900 meters, and I had the ride of a lifetime in the draft of Caleb and Brian. I had always tried to draft in previous races, but could never find the right position or people to draft behind. But I had a lot of trust in Caleb’s sighting and, not to mention, was fueled by keeping these two in our sights. So, with laser focus, I got into a rhythm with Brian’s right thigh and never let the Orca logo on his wetsuit get beyond my reaching paddle: thigh-stroke-stroke-breath-thigh-stroke-stroke-breath.
Motivational Mantras
Unfortunately the summit of Mt. Constitution was enshrouded in mist, so we missed the view of the Salish Sea dappled with islands and snow-capped Mt. Baker towering in the distance. But still feeling great at this point, we washed down a few PB&J squares with Precision Hydration and made our way down to the isolated Twin Lakes and back up another 1000 feet to the top of Mt. Pickett. The summit of Mt. Pickett was like something between a horror film and a Coke commercial, with a single folding table off the side of the trail, cloaked in fog, and covered with tidily displayed rows of Coca Cola. Topped off with more fuel, we started our decent down Mt. Pickett, and I descended into a state of what I only can imagine other athletes mean by “bonking”. Nausea, cramping, and mental fatigue overcame me and I actually got motion sick from rotating back and forth during our next wind-swept swim. We had been leading the female teams up to this point, so to really drive home the whole bonk experience, we saw another female team exiting the swim right behind us. In my mind, it was over. I said to Annie, “we don’t need to win this thing, I’m perfectly proud of what we’ve accomplished so far”. Her response, “it ain’t over ’til it’s over”. And that was that.
Some warm broth at the nearby aid station, a couple of gels, and non-stop encouragement from my race partner/umbilical sister/one of the strongest women I know and things were feeling better. I was getting my “second wind”. Now this was an endurance racing term I could stand by. We had a 4 mile descent down to our final swim and a short run to the finish. And this is where the tethering element of the sport really came into play. Annie is a superb trail runner and being tethered to her while running down a mountain gives one’s legs no choice but to turnover like the Looney Tunes roadrunner. Conversely, I am a stronger swimmer, so on that final swim I had to keep my part of the bargain and maintain momentum. To do this, I said one mantra over and over again, timed with my stroke and sighting: It-ain’t-over-til-it’s-over-hell-no-[SIGHT]-It-ain’t-over-til-it’s-over-hell-no-[SIGHT].
Finally, the finish line. Again, like all other swimrun events, the Orcas Island Swimrun 2019 finish line was filled with positivity: racers congratulating one another on their recent feat, sharing personal highs and lows, and just relishing the unique sport of swimrun and the privilege of intimately traversing the legendary landscape of Orcas Island.
FINISH: 7th overall, 1st females, 6:22:08
Video Credit: Wild Fly Production
Race Report: Odyssey Swimrun Casco Bay Islands 2019