marathon swimming | Open Water Aerin

Keep Portland Weird? Absolutely!

I’ve had so many swimblogging false starts lately. I’ve written half-finished product reviews for everything from suits, haircare for habitual chlorine offenders, and swimming MP3 players . I’ve thought about writing about my nutritional challenges during long events and long training sessions. And I thought about writing about recovery from injury after going through some shoulder struggles a short while ago. None of these topics really seemed to light me up, but I did do something cool on July 10, and I thought you should know about it.

After 2 long years of Covid cancellations, the Portland Bridge Swim was finally a GO! I signed up for the 2020 edition of this unique event way back in 2019 when the Earth was green and the dinosaurs roamed, and there was no global plague to mess everything up. The concept: swim the 12 bridges of the Willamette River right through urban Portland, Oregon, with a healthy current assist and an official US Master’s Swimming Association designation. 11.8 miles (roughly 19-20km) of torpedo-ing next to BIG boats, with 99 other swimmers. A Portland getaway, with all the requisite donuts and food carts and craft beer….who wouldn’t be tempted?

I had been in the Willamette River back in 2013, when I attended the World Domination Summit (that’s DOMINATION, not DOMINATRIX, as had to be clarified to border officials). The conference has become known for it’s unconventional approach, and each year they attempt to break a world record. The record in question was the longest human chain on water, so everyone who attended the conference was outfitted with a colourful inner tube. On the day of the attempt, everyone got into the river, sat in their floaty tube, and held hands while the official Guinness People did their count on jet skis. So really, just my butt was in the water, but the end result was something epic. Much like the Bridge Swim, really.

So, the plan was to swim in 2020, and I don’t need to tell you what happened. Cancelled. 2021 – cancelled again. For 2 years the organizers kept swimmers in the loop, and one day the call was made – 2022 was on! This would be my first “official” event since the virus swept the world, and I was thrilled to ramp up my training and activate my support crew. What began as a plan for a quick 3 day hop over the border turned into a full week of exploring the city and its many charms (and many donuts) with my daughter, my sister, my niece, and Harriet the dog. We stayed in a great AirBnB in the Alberta neighbourhood, and took in as much (caloric energy) as possible, including a day on the coast to play in the ocean waves and gawp at the Haystack Rock at Cannon Beach, a performance of Rent, Multnomah Falls, and the legendary Powell’s Bookstore.

I tried to learn as much about the swim and what to expect ahead of time, but this was a challenge. There aren’t many accounts of past Portland Bridge Swims online, and just a smattering of social media posts. I was most intrigued by the notion of “current assisted”, which I took in a positive sense to mean that the swim would take me much less time than what I’d typically swim 19 km (evidenced from my Christina Lake swim in 2020). Information emails from the organizers predicted a cold swim with a fast current, but as the date grew closer and I did manage to connect with some past participants, I grew to believe that the assist would be minimal, and that I should prepare for anywhere between 5-7 hours. This is critically important for planning feeds, especially as I’ve been struggling with this aspect of planning as I attempt longer distances and nothing seems to work really well after 12 km or 4 hours in motion. Like, I barf and lose energy and lose my will to live. But more on that in another post! My suspicions about the current were confirmed at package pickup, when one of the organizers confirmed that if any assist was present at all, it would be during the first 2 km. And that’s it.

I knew I was in for the long haul, so we made sure that Scarlet was also flush with snacks and hydration for the kayak. Portland was as hot as a witch’s bazingy that week at 40 C. I don’t know how the swimmers in wetsuits do it – because the water was at least 20 and probably higher in spots. I really wish my feeds had been cold, and that’s something I will try to put in place for the upcoming Lake Zurich swim. It seems that pre-mixed warm anything is going to make me feel like hell, and sure enough, I did have 2 small hurls and 1 gigantic projectile vomit at around the 12-13 km mark, when even the thought of the next warm slug was almost too much.

Swimming under 12 bridges – all of them unique – was really cool. Swimming through Portland’s port-ly past made this a particularly unique swim, with each landmark or tanker or other boat (there were so so so many boats!) providing visual interest and a true sense of getting some place. I felt really motivated being in such a strange location, since the current made it feel like I was hardly moving at some points. I could usually see other swimmers and their kayakers on the water, with this whole other “lane” of people going about their business and leisure right beside me. Scarlet took some great photos, on top of being a shrewd navigator and top notch bottle thrower.

Other than the pukes, which were such a minor part of this swim, I felt pretty good most of the way and didn’t experience anything out of the ordinary. In a long swim like this, I tend to go through mental stages much like any other major life event. I start out nervous but excited, and hit a real streak of positivity for the first 8 km. I’m happy to be in the water, I’m neither hungry nor burping up breakfast, and all my limbs are doing what they’re supposed to. At some point between 9-12 km, things start to crop up. A nagging headache, a numb left arm/hand, a burning right elbow, a wave of nausea, a fear of not finishing, doubt about future swims, a drop in confidence. Sometimes I decide that this will be my last swim. But somehow, one stroke at a time, the finish grows nearer. I rely on Scarlet’s encouragement, their sweet face, their consistency and timekeeping, and their honesty. They know I can do it. I know that they know, and so I do it. I just get it done.

Coming into the finish felt great. I forgot about the pain as soon as I could hear the cheering. I saw my sister and my niece and could hear the genuine encouragement in their voices. With a few wobbly staggers up the sand, I was over the line and getting all the hugs, a finisher’s medal, a cold bottle of water, and a tamale!

It’s always awesome to be part of an event where you can feel how connected the organizers are. This group were so happy to have pulled it off, achieved that 10 year anniversary, and celebrated being back in the river together. Their joy was contagious. I wish them congratulations and want to thank them for a thrilling day and a truly unique swim. I’d recommend this event to anyone who’s curious about stretching their distance limit beyond 10 km, or seeks a destination swim in a clean river in a vibrant city. Or who likes donuts and food carts and fun. It was the perfect test case for my upcoming 26 km in Zurich, giving me a little confidence boost and the fuel to keep on training, and keep it weird.

Lessons from the Ogo Pogo

Posted on June 5, 2021 by Aerin Bowers

One thing about open water swimming – it always teaches me something.

Sometimes it’s about myself. Sometimes it’s about my limits. Sometimes it’s about my limitlessness

Sometimes it’s about the lake.

Today was one of those days! Despite a truncated training season in Trail (for which I am grateful, because lots of swimmers could swim much less), I decided to attempt a 6 hour English Channel qualifier in Okanagan Lake. I did one last October, but Coach Brent and I wanted to do it again in a consistent sub-16 degrees as the rules require. I’d only been lake training for 2 weeks, since it’s been as cold as a witch’s tit around here.

I was pretty sure that my fitness would hold up, since I’ve been doing a lot of biking and hiking (and pool sets). I was a little nervous about the temperature, but mostly because I am a big baby and I promised myself that I’d start taking cold showers in February, but really, fuck that.

We met at Brent’s house and lugged his canoe to the beach. I was excited to meet awesome Kelowna swimmers Phred and Mike, since group swimming is always more fun. We started off in the chop and headed for the bridge. I’d swam the bridge with Brent last year and was eager to battle the waves and freak myself out looking for the big black carp that hang out beneath it. I felt strong and confident all the way, and we passed underneath and had a lovely current that pushed us back to the other side in much calmer water. I took a feed at around an hour in.

Speaking of feeds, I have been using Perpetuem for my long swims for about a year now. I decided to up my game after deciding that pickle juice and Shok Blocks just weren’t cutting it. I’ve found the Perpetuem mostly palatable for swims up to 10 km, but felt slightly nauseous chugging it back for anything longer. I tried all the tricks – imagining that it’s root beer, or a Shamrock Shake, or holding my nose – but by the end of a long swim even the sickly sweet smell of it makes my stomach churn.

So with that in mind, I was prepared to do one last swim with the Perpetuem while I waited for my shipment of another product that I didn’t order in time.

With 2 or 3 feeds in my system, we headed south along the lake shore. Mike departed leaving Phred and I battling the very windy and wavy conditions, while Brent captained his canoe. With small craft warning conditions, we were the only crazy people in/on the water. Still, things were going swimmingly.

Until they weren’t.

If you’ve seen the film Stand By Me, you’ll remember the scene where Gordie tells the story of Lard Ass, who won the pie eating contest at the County Fair. Soon after his victory, Lard Ass downs some castor oil to induce a giant purple projectile vomit, which sets the whole crowd off on a mass barforama.

In an open water swimming context, I was Lard Ass and the castor oil was Perpetuem. And once I started really feeling the rocking of the waves, I had to hurl every kilometre and after every feed. I even tried to drink a can of Fresca, but that also came back up along with my breakfast bagel and the popcorn from the night before.

I continued to swim, burp, and spew, swim, burp and spew for another 2 hours. I thought I might crap my pants too, but managed to control myself, mostly because I didn’t want to anger the Ogo Pogo. I was miserable, frustrated, weak, and embarrassed. I was so confident earlier in the swim, even when we decided that the water temperature wasn’t cold enough for qualifier status anyways. My arms and legs and core felt great, but I could not shake that topsy turvy feeling every time I was horizontal.

I have no idea how Brent managed to keep his boat afloat, but he continued to encourage me, he didn’t laugh, and he didn’t ask me if I crapped my pants.

And then it was over. My big season opener. My test of consistent training. My much anticipated Saturday morning! I have no idea why I got so sick. Was it the Perpetuem, or am I prone to seasickness? Was it my ears? And what does this mean for potential ocean swims or Channel crossings?

So much to learn.

I spent the afternoon feeling crappy and replenishing calories (a delicious burger at Brent’s and then poutine and Gatorade), and researching anti-nausea medication. No matter what, I will learn as much as I can. I’m determined to find the right nutrition, and figure out how to not blow chunks in wavy conditions. I have been extremely lucky so far in my open water journey – no shoulder issues, great training pals, awesome coaching, excellent paddlers, minimal chafing…

I suppose I did learn that I can push through some discomfort, and that I can stay determined even when things go sideways and upside down (or at least when that’s what it feels like.)

I’m sorry, Ogo Pogo, for polluting your waters, but next time give me a break. I’ll be back in 2 weeks.

That Time I Swam Christina Lake

Posted on September 23, 2020 by Aerin Bowers

On September 12, 2020 at 7:10 am, I slunk my shivering, slippery booty into the shallow, South end of Christina Lake and began a 7 hour, 19 km labour of love. Of course, first there was a ceremony involving the unfolding of the Oru Kayak, party beads, an intimate lanolin + zinc + vaseline rubdown, Guitar Hero, the Marathon Swim Foundation Rules, O Canada, and Territory Acknowledgement (in full below).

At around 2 pm, I dragged my tired, wrinkly, raisin-y, but very happy body out onto the rocks at the very most North point of the lake, and was showered with hugs and love from some of the very finest people one could ever meet. The kind of people who would also spend 7 hours (or a great portion thereof) supporting a friend with wacky ideas and crazy ambition.

What was it like? What did I think about? Why would I do something like this? Did you poop in the lake? These are the questions I’m most frequently asked.

Well, it was smoky. It didn’t start off so badly, with a morning that wasn’t clear, but wasn’t pea soup thick either. I’ve swam in smoky conditions before (Skaha Ultra 2018), but this year’s US wildfires have had us veritably choking during the last 2 weeks. By the time I reached Texas Point, the smoke was lowering to the lake and it continued to get thicker all afternoon. I could taste it when I breathed.

Despite all that, I felt great during each stage of the swim. I was very conscious of pacing, and I knew that I wanted to maintain a stroke rate of 66 strokes-per-minute for the majority of the swim. Robin and Sue supported me during the first 10 km. They rocked the kayaks with some awesome hair metal, fed me Perpetuem every 30 minutes on schedule, and provided much needed banter and encouragement along the way. It was a pleasure to swim between them and I hope that they will flank me again someday.

I swam past all the swanky cabins of the South end, aiming at the point closest to the Marina, and then Texas Point, where Robin and Sue would paddle in and switch places with Ali, and Mike and Andrea would hop into the boat with Shanna. At the 10 km point, I was still feeling fine! The feeds were going well, I wasn’t feeling any chafing, and I was still able to somersault with joy when appropriate. I was even relaxed enough to pee while swimming, which is a pretty great thing. If you’ve ever had to pee really badly and just said “fuck it” and let it go, that’s what it’s like. Ahhhh.

At some point, I looked up to breathe and was surprised to notice 2 new orange and green kayakers – 2 kayakers I did not expect, but kayakers that I love!! Elaine and Rob appeared as if by magic and made that halfway point push into the next 9 km much easier, since I was so surprised and happy and honoured all at the same time. If you ever think you might need some motivation during an endurance event, just arrange to have some friends surprise you half way.

With Ali in the Oru, ready to guide and feed me, I pushed on toward Deer Point. The push to that Point, which is prominent from the water and looks much closer from Texas Point than it actually is, required a lot of mental gymnastics to just accept and carry on. What did I think about? Well, this is where I start to not think, and instead slide into a semi-meditation of moving arms and kicking legs and consistent bilateral breathing. This is where I start to find a real rhythm, and maybe allow a song in my head (Metronomy’s Reservoir, in this case) to take over a bit. I know that a feed is coming every 30 minutes, but 30 minutes can feel like a long time in the silence of water. I started to really look forward to those feeds. Marathon Swim Foundation rules state that the swimmer cannot touch the kayak under any circumstances, so I showed my appreciation with a little synchro love instead.

Couldn’t point my toe. Avoiding a calf cramp!

By this time, the smoke had lowered and thickened, and I realized that my shoulders were feeling pretty good. My lower back was feeling pretty good. I was still kicking a solid 2 beat. I was looking forward to feeds. I felt like I could swim a lot longer, so I knew that I was going to be able to do it.

And once I knew that I was going to be able to do it, the end of the lake became very far away just to test me. I have a technique when things start to hurt. I think about swimming at Nancy Greene Lake at sunset – my favourite time to swim. I think about how my hands and arms look when they enter the water in the golden light, sparkly and bubbly and effervescent. I imagine filling any part of me that is hurting with those golden bubbles, and how good that feels. It’s the closest physical thing to joy. I fill the hurt with the joy. 🙂

I passed the Point and knew I was nearing Shanna’s cabin on the East side. I could see the sandy beach that represents what usually is the end of the lake, approximately 1 km away – but other plans had been made. According to the map, the actual northernmost point of Christina Lake extends a little further up to the entrance to a creek where the salmon spawn at this time of year. The area is marked off by some white buoys. I could see the white buoys for what seemed like a very long time. I did not want to see any salmon making love.

The end of long swims is often like this – you can see the landmark you’re aiming for and your mind starts to mess with you. You think, “that can’t be much further than 500 meters, can it?” and then the next thing you know, you’ve been swimming another half hour and it’s time for another feed.

At long last, I could see humanoid forms on the beach. I could see the white buoys actually getting closer, and I could see Shanna’s boat at the edge. I asked Ali to guide me in, baby, and baby, she guided me through those white buoys into a soupy stew of lily pads and weeds……and finally, THE END!

One thing I did wonder while swimming was how I was going to get out if I didn’t finish at the beach. Shorter race events often see one running out of the water to cross the finish line – on land – at the end. These always give me anxiety because sometimes my legs are wobbly after being horizontal for a while and I’m scared of being that person who bails in a very unglamorous yard sale of embarrassment. Not that I expect to be all Baywatch, but I do worry.

Luckily, the last 6 metres were 30 cm deep thick, sludgy brown goo. I swam through that goo and slapped my hand on a rock on shore. And that reminds me, I didn’t poop in the lake during this swim, in case you were wondering. But something sure did, up at the North End.

Done! Complete! I stood up and did not fall over. I waved to my beautiful, cheering friends. Then I got back into the brown goo and Elaine towed me over to the beach, where people hugged me (even though I was covered in brown goo), put beads around my neck, and ushered me into a clean, white bathrobe.

Even a cloud of poop sludge can’t stop me from smiling.

And like that – the swim was over. 19.1 kilometers in 7 hours and 13 seconds. I’ll be submitting my documents to the official bean counter people in the next few weeks, and hopefully the swim will be ratified. That would be exciting. It was a great experience, from the training (trust the training!!), route planning, nutrition planning, support planning, to the delicious huckleberry margaritas served up during our post-swim celebration. I thought about my Dad every time I looked up and saw the sunrise. I slept like a baby that night and ate eggs Benedict the next morning, and then I had another swim.

I must effusively thank my special support squad. Shanna, Ali, Sue, Robin, Mike, Andrea, Elaine, and Rob….I bow down to you like Wayne and Garth before Alice Cooper. You made this swim possible for me. You made this swim amazing for me. Thanks to everyone who followed my little orange dot on the tracker, and sent messages (Ali read them along the way!), and cheered me on. And thanks Shanna for calling Scarlet and my Mum in the middle of the lake so I could hear their voices.

I also want acknowledge that I am grateful to have accomplished this swim on the unceded traditional territories of the Syilx tmixʷ (Okanagan), Okanagan, sngaytskstx tum-xula7xw (Sinixt), and
Ktunaxa ɁamakɁis.

What’s next? A whole bunch of cold water swimming in preparation for a long, cold swim. What else?

Countdown to Christina

Posted on September 10, 2020 by Aerin Bowers

Cue that cheesy song by Europe that we all secretly love so much….it’s the final countdown!

I’m really excited about this swim. It’s been a rather interesting year, to put it mildly, and I’m ready for something fun and exciting and challenging and for me, that means I’ll spend around 7-8 hours swimming the 18.5 km length of Christina Lake, BC on Saturday, September 12. I plan to swim from the main beach at the Provincial Park to the very top end of the lake. I’ll be starting at 7 am, and finishing in time for a cold margarita (if I can raise my arms above my waist) on my friend Shanna’s deck. That’s the plan, at least. I’m going to wear my new Q Swimwear suit, and I’m going chug Perpetuem and other delicious Hammer Nutrition fuels to help me stay hydrated and not hangry. If you’ve been with me when I’m hangry, you will understand. That’s the plan, anyways.

Planning this swim has been an odyssey in itself, and I’ve learned so much through the process. It’s been complex and has given me a much needed focus this summer where all of my events were cancelled and travel postponed. I’ve been consumed with everything from understanding the rules of the Marathon Swim Foundation, confirming a support crew on the day, training locally and training while traveling, making sure I’m eating the right things and enough of them and not so much of the other bad things (nobody has even SEEN me on a pub patio this year)….and contingency plans. I’ve had to make a lot of decisions, down to the swimsuit I shall wear on the day (the Q Swimwear Mixtape), to the type of cake I will stuff my face with afterwards (Black Forest), whether I make it or not.

In the end, all you can hope for is that you trained properly – enough but not too much. I’ve been so lucky to work with my coach Brent Hobbs on a plan that has been challenging to stick to, but ultimately has me feeling quite confident for Saturday.

I threw my own travel wrench into the middle of the training plan with a trip to Saskatchewan at the end of August. I did my very best to keep to the schedule, but with swimmable lakes (without a zillion jet skis and not smelling of old man farts) a few hours drive away, I had to be strategic. Luckily, my awesome Aunt Donna and her partner have a sweet cabin at Anglin Lake. True to her nature, Donna completed and passed her boat exam the night before my 5 hour trial, and she captained this very critical training swim perfectly. Except when she ran into the dock at the end and crushed a man’s leg, but that was her first time. I also swam in Martin’s Lake (blech), Riversdale Pool (take me back!), and did a 3 hour current-assisted swim in the South Saskatchewan River (illegal, but you know I’m a rebel).

I came home a few days early to resume a more consistent training schedule, and I’ve been out at Nancy Greene Lake and Christina Lake. Temperatures are dropping, but I’m still feeling great. My intrepid support crew is all set to go – THANK YOU SO MUCH ALI, SHANNA, SUE, ROBIN, ANDREA & MIKE! All that remains is to deal with tonight’s afterdrop, stretch, pack, and eat noodles to my heart’s content.

And lastly, I am not doing this swim for charity and didn’t want to ask people to dig into their wallets during what is a very challenging time for everyone. One of my motivating factors for attempting this swim was the death of my father last year on September 17. If you knew and loved him and are motivated to give, please make a donation to the Canadian Heart and Stroke Foundation in the memory of Kelly Bowers.

If you’re interested in following my swim, I’ve set up a tracking page at https://track.rs/aerinbowers/ so that you can follow along. I know, I know, the US Open Women’s Final will be happening at the same time. I can’t offer any exciting sideboob or water barfs, but there will be a little orange dot making its way up the lake, and that will be me.

In Summer, the Song Sings Itself

Posted on August 22, 2020 by Aerin Bowers

So much for lamenting the loss of travel – summer in BC has been wonderful, and so has the swimming!

I’ve been working toward my BIG GOAL of swimming the length of Christina Lake on September 12. Otherwise known as the Bathtub of B.C., Christina is one of my favourite places to swim. The swim will be ratified by the Marathon Swim Foundation, if all planning goes well. It’s the best place for early season training, and it stays warm enough for the late season too. I’m 100% focused on this swim, and there’s lots of preparation to consider. And also lots of swimming to be ready on the day. It’s approx 19 km and I can do it! (I hope)

Route planning and existential ponderings.

I took a precious week off and did a 5 day kayaking trip on Slocan Lake (second favourite local BC lake) with my daughter and 2 pals. We paddled the 40 km top to bottom and I swam 5 km/day in Slocan’s beautifully crystal clear water. There was also lots of time for campfire laughs, nude-watching, flirting with our campsite neighbour, and…night swimming! We loaded up the Oru Kayak with lights and I swam under the stars and the moon in the quiet and inky blackness. Bliss.

I’ve been training at Nancy Greene Lake most days, which is good because of the high elevation and the lower water temperature. It’s full of life all summer. Fish jump, and plant life stretches up from the sandy bottom. Swimming here feels like I’m a wee a drone flying over a forest. Apparently there’s an aggressive otter, but I haven’t seen him yet. I bet he’s seen me. I hope he introduces himself before the summer is over, and maybe he can teach me how to efficiently peel shrimp while floating on my back, because right now it’s a bit awkward.

I did a 10 km training swim at Christina Lake last weekend to get a feel for the distance and the landscape of what will be the second half of the BIG SWIM. My friend Shanna paddled for me from Texas Point to the northernmost end of the lake – and graciously allowed me to glamp at her lovely cabin.

And now – I’m en route to Saskatoon, Saskatchewan for a few weeks. I’m looking forward to exploring some new lakes and swimming some long distances in my home province, and having my Mum do my laundry. YES!

Maybe she’ll even do some support kayaking for me….Mum?

Oh, Here I Am

Posted on July 31, 2020 by Aerin Bowers

Where did I go? I’m not even sure! Have you seen me?

Oh, here I am, trudging out of the lake covered in weeds, mascara smeared, nipples pointing in opposite directions…and dragging my Swim Buddy behind me like the world’s saddest whoopee cushion. Did you miss me?

The last 7 months have gone by in a blur. I’ve had a lot of blogging false starts. I’ve felt like writing, and then I didn’t. I’d think about a post, and then I’d get busy, and then I’d get hangry, and we all know what happens when I get hangry.

And then a global pandemic happened (WTAF), the pools closed, and I didn’t really know what to do.

This wasn’t in the plan!

I’d been swimming in the most diligent, consistent, and committed fashion of my life. I’d been working with my Kelowna-based coach (the amazing Channel Swimmer Brent Hobbs) to improve my technique (which was apparently “of the 80’s” – go figure!) and increasing my distance weekly: 4 swims a week with one LONG ASS 10 km pool swim on the weekend. I was making regular practices with my local Masters Club, getting workouts in while traveling for work, and even competing in my second Master’s meet in Vernon, BC at the end of January. I smashed my times and really felt on the up and up and up….

My last pool swim in March at the Vancouver Aquatic Centre.

I was focused on swimming a ton of events leading up to the Sri Chinmoy Lake Zurich Swim in August. I had a yoga plan (thanks KERRY!), a strength plan (thanks ANDREA!), plenty of motivation, and even my sandwich-tossing support team figured out (HI SCARLET AND THOMAS!). But when the pools closed, I was at a loss. I figured the best thing to do would be to keep my fitness up, and having a Haus-German with whom to spend much of the lockdown ensured that I got out skiing a lot. Snow is frozen water, after all.

Then all swims were cancelled. I experienced existential grief and angst. I wasn’t easy to get along with. What a year. I was always anxious, always hangry. My gills were closing.

This coincided with the busiest period I’ve ever had in my career. Working in education technology means that I have morphed into a 3 inch version of myself who lives in Zoom 12 hours a day and may or may not be wearing pants at any given moment. I can no longer see more than 2 metres ahead of me, which is ok because that’s how far apart we’re supposed to be anyway.

And then finally, it was mid-May and I decided to stop being such a big girl’s blouse and get in the fucking lake, no matter how cold.

IT WAS COLD.

SO COLD.

(but I learned that I really, really like it!)

No wetsuit for me – as per Coach Brent. The sanctioned swims I’ve planned do not allow it, so I’ve relegated my sleek Orca rubber to the closet, where it sits in wait and may come in handy for fighting/committing crimes.

Early season training couldn’t come soon enough, and I headed out to Christina Lake as much as possible to test my cold boundaries and gradually increase my time in the water before meeting up with Coach Brent and Channel Swimmer Emilie Epp in Kelowna for the first LONG ASS cold water swim, where I swam for 2.5 hours in 13 degrees. It was exhilarating, even if my hands turned into lobster claws and I couldn’t get my car key in the lock. I couldn’t feel my own face, but that’s ok because we’re not supposed to touch faces anyway.

As it’s gradually warmed, I’ve had lots of lake time at Christina, Slocan, Okanagan, and Nancy Greene. I did a short bike tour with The German, and I bought a super cool, easily transportable, foldable Oru Kayak to encourage support paddlers to join me in the beautiful BC sunshine (and thunder and lightning and rain….June was pretty wet!).

I’ve finally been able to swim with Coach Brent this week. He took me on a sunset cruise under the Kelowna Bridge (both ways), which was reminiscent of that scene inThe Perfect Storm – and I loved it. We talked about goals – I’m still planning to swim the 18.9 km length of Christina Lake – and one REALLY BIG GOAL that I am not ready to talk about yet.

So much depends on whether the pools open this fall/winter. So much depends on getting more than one hour in a lane.

So much depends on everyone wearing a fucking mask and washing their hands and not partying on houseboats and not hugging each other.

Navigating this new normal is not easy, but doing it in the water is making a lot of difference for me. Better thinking, natural exhaustion, fresh air…

I really missed this. I’m glad to be back. Let’s go for a swim.

You’re Gonna Eat Lightning

Posted on December 22, 2019 by Aerin Bowers

Well, let’s end this year on an unexpected note, shall we?

Last year, having really upped my game in the long distance swim department, I applied for a place in the Sri Chinmoy Lake Zurich 26 km Marathon Swim.

I didn’t get in, but was told by the organizers that swimmers are rarely chosen in their first application attempt. They encouraged me to keep applying and I put it on my list for 2019. The date came around in September, and I dutifully sent in my info with very low expectations and a tiny glimmer of hope that I might make the cut. And a tiny glimmer of terror that if I was selected, I would have to swim 26 km. In one go.

On December 15, I checked my email just as Air Canada was making love to me sideways over a barrel with a cancelled work flight and sure enough…I have a place! I read the email over a few times, laughed twice, shit my pants (figuratively) and then immediately told my VIPs, followed by Facebook and Instagram.

So what does this mean?

The swim is 26 km in Lake Zurich. That’s in Switzerland, in case you slept through geography or are American. Just kidding. I love Americans.

Here’s a little illustration of the route.

26 km is a long way. I assume that if I’m even physically capable of such a feat, it will take me at least 10 hours. I have signed up for the wetsuit category, but I may rethink this as I connect with others who have done the event.

I’m looking for a coach to start with in January – someone who will work with me on stroke technicalities, a training plan, and some accountability. I’ve put some feelers out there and hope to meet my Mickey Goldmill in the coming weeks. I’m totally prepared to run after chickens and everyone knows that grey sweatpants and a toque are already part of my training style.

I don’t know if I can do it.

I don’t know if I can’t.

I don’t know how much fondue I will eat at the finish line.

I don’t know if I should plan a little bike trip before or after.

I don’t know much, but:

I know I love swimming, especially in lakes.
I love a challenge. Especially a big one.
I love Switzerland. I had a taste this past summer, and I’m excited to go back.
I need a big goal to focus on in 2020.
I will have a boat, but I do need a support person in it to throw me snacks and water and tell me to not die or cry. This person may have to either wear a diaper or control their bodily functions for up to 12 hours. I’ll be taking applications soon. Not everyone at once!

I’m going to eat lightning and I’m going to crap thunder. Knowing this makes a hard year a bit better.

The Skaha Lake Ultra Swim – Take 2

Posted on August 12, 2019 by Aerin Bowers

I’m writing this post with my feet, since my arms and shoulders are so $%#@*&!! sore from yesterday’s Skaha Lake Ultra Swim. An 11.8 km marathon swim of ecstasy and agony, but not for the first time. This was my second time swimming Skaha. Why go back for more, you might ask? Well, that’s an interesting question for an open water swimmer, since we as a breed seem to seek out events that test us, tire us, thrash us about, and leave us battered, weary, and definitely wanting more.

When I talk to people about this “hobby” (and certainly this particular swim), a quizzical look often takes over their face. This is soon followed by an obvious expression of concern. And that’s ok. I get it – spending 4 hours in a wetsuit churning across a lake isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. But it’s definitely mine, and the 93 others who challenge themselves to make it from Penticton to Okanagan Falls early on a Sunday morning in forest fire season, with only a lone support kayaker to keep them company, and only some carbohydrate gels (and maybe some pickle juice) to eat.

Last year was my first Skaha Ultra (or any ultra), and I spent the majority of the winter leading up to the event feeling freaked out and excited and wondering if I was preparing properly for such an extension of my normal distance. I swam very near to the distance a couple of weeks before, so I entered the water very confident that I would conquer the distance but with no idea how I would fare compared to the other swimmers. I was very pleased with the results and it led me to seek out some longer swims, some of which have happened or are in planning or application stages. But – it whet (swimming pun) my appetite for pushing harder and for longer distances to see what would be possible for me.

This summer has been quite different! I trained all winter and had a respectable showing in the Across the Lake Swim. Soon after that I jetted off to Europe for an epic bike tour that certainly worked my legs and gave me calves of steel, but offered somewhat limited swimming opportunities for the type of distance I maybe should have been working on. In an attempt to keep my nerves at bay and my harsh inner critic in her locked box, I thought of it as a long taper…

…until I was 8 km into the swim, and my right arm and shoulder started to scream at me.

“YOU DIDN’T TRAIN FOR THIS, YOU IMBECILE!” said my right shoulder, and the left one whimpered in sympathy.

“YOU ARE DOING PERMANENT DAMAGE TO ME, YOU ASS! MAY THE FLEAS OF 1000 CAMELS INFEST YOUR ARMPITS.” said my right arm, and the left one nodded but couldn’t speak because it was totally numb and had been since the 3 km mark.

“WE’RE PRETTY FUCKING HAPPY. THANKS FOR ALL THE BIKING.” said my legs, happily kicking a nice 5 beat without complaint.

I dug deep within and promised my arms and shoulders that I would reward them handsomely if they’d just keep swimming. I wouldn’t ask for turbo power, just survival. I would never again let them sit around, merely steering and lifting bites of apple strudel to my mouth, for a few weeks before a long event like this. I would let them soak in a hot tub for at least 30 minutes after the event. I bargained with my upper limbs. And they held. But just barely. They even let me forget about them for the last kilometre, allowing me to finish strong, pushing myself upright to run through the finish (clapping – apparently, and according to this photo!!), and accept my well-earned Finisher’s Medal, which was even nicer than last year!

Arms and shoulders aside, the rest of the swim was amazing. Scarlet, my support kayaker, charted a nice straight line to Ponderosa Point, and offered lots of helpful encouragement along the way. She even called me a “tough little fucker”, which I really liked. Thanks to the awesome Stevens for lending us the kayak. The conditions were great and much less smoky than last year. I finished a respectable 39th overall, and even though I added 9 minutes to my time, I’m happy with the result. Blame the wind, blame the extra currents, or blame my undertrained arms and shoulders….but what’s the point? An event of this length is a huge challenge for any body, and even finishing deserves a big bottle of Prosecco or $100 worth of room service or whatever else floats your boat.

I’d like to express my thanks again to the organizers of the Skaha Lake Ultra Swim. This event runs so smoothly and gives great confidence to the participants, who really have a lot of other things on their minds as they prepare. From the safety meetings to the convenient post-swim shuttle back to Penticton, this team has it dialed. If you’re interested in challenging yourself, the registration sells out quite quickly once it’s posted. You have to decide fast. And I think you should do it.

Will I be back next year for a three-peat? It’s certainly possible! For now, I’m sitting in the airport waiting for my flight to Stockholm, where I will swim 3.2 km at next weekend’s Riddarfjardsimningan (say that aloud after a few airport margaritas). My arms and shoulders haven’t spoken to me since yesterday. They’ll get over it.

Surf’s Up, Amigos

Posted on March 31, 2019 by Aerin Bowers

I haven’t had much swimmin’ stuff to write about this month, since March has really been a whirlwind.

I went to Mexico to celebrate my Dad’s 70th birthday (or Biff-day, as we prefer to call it). We stayed in a resort in San Jose Del Cabo, which wasn’t really my cup of horchata, so I rented a car and did some rather rad exploring. This led to a beautiful Baja swim in the Sea of Cortez with friends in La Ventana and surfing lessons in Los Cerritos Beach near Todos Santos on the Pacific side of the peninsula.

It was so brilliant to be back in the open water after several months staring at the black line at the bottom of the pool.

And it was brilliant to swim with the Stevens again (and to swill tequila with them), and to visit their chilled little kiteboarding mecca. We started early, which was quite amazing given the shenanigans of the previous evening, and managed a 4 km out and back along the bay that hugs the village of La Ventana. I was honestly a little disappointed that I didn’t get stung by a jellyfish and that nobody had to pee on me. Maybe next time. I can’t wait for summer swimming adventures with these fine folks.

I also fulfilled a bucket list dream by taking some surfing lessons. My new amigo Edgar of Baja Surfing had me up on the board within a few waves and before long I was hanging ten with my toes off the front of the board. Then I was donning a Dead Presidents mask and robbing a bank, and then skydiving out of a plane into the Nevada desert at gunpoint with Patrick Swayze. Ok, not all of these things are true, but I did have a blast trying something completely new, and something that I would definitely do again.

I returned to the Kootenays just in time to hang with The Schnitzel and catch my last few sparkly, sunshiny days of spring skiing at Red Mountain, do some light touring to the Mosquito and Viewpoint Cabins in the Rossland Range, and enjoy the classic cross-country at Paulson Summit. Work travel has me on the road a lot this month, but unfortunately without a surfboard strapped to the roof of my Suzuki Sidekick.

I will, however, have my trusty cap ‘n goggles, Finis Duo, and Q Swimwear training suits in pursuit of reaching an audacious April training goal of 40,000 metres.

March – you were both a salty sea lion and a lamb with fleece as white as snow (especially during my first few days on the beach).

May April’s inevitable showers bring you lots of flowers and wash out your crevices, because I’m still finding sand in mine.

2019: Be It Resolved…

Posted on January 3, 2019 by Aerin Bowers

Welcome to 2019! This post will be fun.

I did my first pool workout of the new year tonight, logging a sweet 3500 m in just over an hour. Now I’m eating tangy Swedish licorice and I’m pumped for the next 365 days to be steeped in chlorinated, fresh, and salt water.

Ok, here they are! My 2019 New Year’s Swimming Resolutions:

350,000 metres training goal. Last year I did 200,000. Let’s ramp that up a wee bit. I’ll know by July if I’m on target, and if I set a good pace and act in a disciplined fashion (new year, new me!), I might even extend that to 400,000. Just to be an audacious woman.
Dedicated practice for stroke improvement during every workout. I’ve spent a fair bit of time this past year trying to correct some long-standing problems with my freestyle, mainly my straight-armed swinging style. While this is a fine style for the dance floor, I feel like it hinders my efficiency in the water especially as I move into longer distances. Gotta protect those shoulders. Sometimes the world rests upon them.
Continue to blog as much as possible because I love writing almost as much as I love swimming. I have so enjoyed this little “project” and maybe I will even start another new “project” that I’ve been chewing on for a while. No spoilers.
Lake training. Once the snow melts and the lakes reach an acceptable temperature at which one’s nipples remain confidently attached, I absolutely must make the effort to get out to the lake and train as much as possible in the open water.
Cross-training. I’ve committed to CrossFit twice a week in an attempt to build my all-over body strength, and I really wanna climb that fucking rope. My other activities include cross-country skiing (I’m learning to skate ski and soon I will beat my boyfriend. Will he still carry my skis?), downhill skiing (usually ends in beers so maybe important for mental health but not so important for fitness), and running. Running toward my resolutions, and not away from anyone except the Frogmouth.
Night swimming. Deserves a quiet night. I’m not sure all these people understand.
And last but not least, I would really like to achieve a 25km + distance event this year. Although I wasn’t successful in my application to the Lake Zurich Swim, I haven’t given up on this milestone and am currently looking for a suitably comparable sanctioned event for the summer or fall. I’m open to suggestions.

Swims I’m Registered For/Considering/Planning (budget and work schedule permitting):

My sixth Across the Lake Swim. I really don’t like this distance and I never do well, but if I do it 10 times I will be awarded a silver cap. I understand that this makes sense only to me.
Skaha Lake Ultra Swim. Baby, I’m back for my second attempt and this year I’m going to do it much faster and in a straight line. I hope Christine will agree to feed me caffeine cubes and smack my ass with the kayak paddle again.
Christina Lake – the entire length. This wouldn’t be a sanctioned swim, but I’m really curious to see what it would be like to swim from the top to the bottom in one go. Google tells me that it’s 18.12 km, and I think it would be really fun. I’m envisioning a camping weekend at Texas Creek with hot dogs and smores and my Boler and good friends to cheer me on. What could be better?
Swim the Arctic Circle. This is a 3 km event that crosses the border between Sweden and Finland, but also crosses the Arctic Circle and the time zone. How cool would it be to combine swimming and time travel? Oh, my geek heart rejoices at the thought.
Swim the Island: Monte Isola, Italy. An Instagram connection tipped me to this annual event, which is an 8.8 km swim around Monte Isola in Italy’s Iseo Lake. It’s in October, which is a busy time for me with work. But it might happen.
Bay Challenge. This 9.6 km VOWSA organized swim starts in Sandy Cove, West Vancouver, and finishes at Kitsilano Beach. It’s not the English Channel, but English Bay instead!

Other fun news:

I’ve started a new Instagram account dedicated to my open water life. Surprisingly, it’s called Open Water Life. If you ‘gram, follow me there and together we’ll ‘gram all about swimming. I’m also planning a new look for this site. It’ll be style-y.

It looks like there will be a new swim club in my area, and I am so excited. It’s called the Lower Columbia Swim Club, and it will be dedicated to open water and triathlon training. Nothing beats swimming with friends!

I was intending to write a post of all of my favourite things from 2018, but it’s pretty overwhelming when you like so many things…and there are other things to do in the day besides compile lists (who knew!). Instead, I will plan a number of posts dedicated to these favourites, such as Instagram accounts to follow for swimming inspiration, the best apps, gear, podcasts, sites, swimwear, music for swimming playlists, men in speedos etc.

But mostly, I want to thank you for reading and sharing this journey with me. I clap for you, and I appreciate you, and I wish you all the best for 2019. Except you, Glen. Now let’s SWIM!