The Sri Chinmoy 26 km Marathon Swim: Lake Zurich

This post has percolated for a long, long time. Months even! And not just because the name is so fucking long! The swim was long, too. The longest I’ve ever swam!

I successfully completed the Sri Chinmoy 26 km Marathon Swim in Lake Zurich on August 7, 2022. I realize that we are well into 2023, but life happens in the meantime. This is my account/recollection of the event from start to finish.

I’ve spared no gory details, but let’s be honest, those details are what you really want to read, especially if you’re a swimmer considering doing this swim. And you should. It’s a beautiful swim and an incredible experience in an unforgettable location, and there is nothing quite like coming across that finish line and bowing your head to be presented with a beautiful flower lei.

I applied unsuccessfully for the 2019 swim. It hurt my feelings at the time, but with hindsight I realize that I did need to get more training and longer swims under my belt. I applied for 2020 and was thrilled (and terrified) to be accepted. Then a stupid pandemic happened, and it was certain that I would not travel to Switzerland that August. Nor the following August. The organizers were fabulous and provided deferrals, so the goal continued to loom large in my mind. In the meantime, I swam a lot – achieving the first documented length-wise swim of Christina Lake and a bunch more +10km and + 6-hour events. I started dreaming of other BIG SWIMS, and trained my ass off, until finally the swim was only weeks away.

I have a relatively intense job and travel extensively for work, and I knew I’d be in the UK for meetings in the weeks prior to the event. Combining work travel with consistent training is always a challenge, but one that I relish because I’m an obsessive planner and organizer – a human border collie really, and there’s nothing I enjoy more than logistics! I was grateful to log early morning workouts at the pool at the Marlborough School, just a short walk away from the AM head office. I connected with Swim Oxford and organized a 10km private Lock to Lock Swim (thanks Darren) in the Thames – you can read all about it here. Then it was back to London, where I visited many of my favourite lidos and prepared for my version of a taper/sharpening.

Photo credit Darren Roles, Swim Oxford
Parliament Hill Lido, London

Before heading to Zurich, I hopped on the Eurostar and spent 5 glorious days in Annecy, France. This beautiful blue lake was the perfect choice for a few long and leisurely swims, and the historic town centre was scenic and gorgeous (and yes, touristy) and bathed daily in the most glorious golden light. The food of the Haute Savoir region of France is cheese-heavy and I did not abstain from filling my face at the Saturday market, which happened almost right outside my accommodation. To counter the constant inbound flow of fromage, I rented a bicycle every day and rode to many beaches that encircle the lake. Lac D’Annecy is the third largest lake in France (14.7 km) and has its own annual swimming event, and I have pledged a return to these beautiful waters.

A fish needs a bicycle.
Golden Hour in Annecy
The bluest lake in all of France. All of France!

I bid “adieu” to Annecy and travelled onward to meet Holger, meine Liebe and enlisted swim support person in Zurich. The Sri Chinmoy organizers provided many suggestions for accommodations, and I settled on the B & B Oberhaushof in Feldbach, one of the wee towns that encircle Lake Zurich. The Oberhaus has been owned by the same family for 250 years and offers direct access to the lake, the most amazing breakfasts ever, and unrivalled hospitality from proprietors Stefan and Maja Buhler. They are, quite simply, the best. The property is a working organic farm, and also includes an exhibit where guests can “immerse themselves in the history of the house.” I couldn’t believe my luck, especially when shown the Etzel Room, where Holger and I would spend several magical days leading up to the swim (and one on the way back after our subsequent bike trip). You can see Rapperswil Castle from the Oberhaus. You can also swim 2 km directly over to the Seebad (Schlossbadi) Rapperswil. So we did, a few times. It’s the end of the paragraph, but I’m compelled to mention the Oberhaus breakfasts again. 🙂

The Oberhaus in Feldbach

Holger traveled from Leipzig by train and bike to meet me, and I’d rented a bike from Bike Switzerland for our Zurich days and the cycling trip to follow the swim. Having 2 wheels was an excellent way to explore our surroundings and provided easy access to Rapperswill on the lake’s northern tip. The Rapperswil Schossbadi is the start of the swim – and also a great place to chill out and meet new friends like ultra-swimmer Martyn Webster and his wife Cat. I’d connected with Martyn prior to heading to Zurich after following his epic achievements for quite some time. He was extremely generous with his support and advice, even lending me a cooler to keep my fuel cold during the swim. Martyn has accomplished a great deal in open water swimming, and accomplished his own version of the Lake Zurich swim – in the opposite direction and then beyond – the day before the official race. Our conversations with Martyn, over beer and delicious Flammkuchen, were invaluable in helping us understand the support boat system, the water conditions, and other things to expect during the event. The support boats (which you pay for in advance of the swim) are powered by local volunteers. You don’t know what sort of boat you might get until the morning of the swim, and it can range from open rowboats to fully powered miniature yachts (this is Zurich, after all). You can also bring your own kayak and paddler, which many swimmers opt to do since it ensures greater control over the line you will swim.

A note on nutrition here. Fueling strategy is a key part of any long-distance swim and an area of struggle since I started swimming long enough distances to require feeds. I’ve experienced issues with nausea and vomiting (charming, I know) during the last few years, particularly around the 5-6 hour mark, at which point my body tends to violently reject everything I’ve put inside it. There have been some legendary hurls, attempts at using anti-nauseant medications, and endless experimentation with different fuels. I’m sponsored by Hammer Nutrition and love their HEED electrolyte drink but puke up Perpetuem, their endurance fuel. I’ve tried to make the switch to SFuels, which is lower in carbohydrates and supports the body slightly differently. I’ve studied endless literature and experimented with maple syrup, energy bars, gels, sandwiches, chocolate bars….. you name it. In any case, I was prepared to swim this swim using HEED electrolytes, SFuels Train and Race+, Snickers bars and water. My pre-race prep involved labelling bottles and rehearsing feeds so that Holger would know what to throw to me, and on what intervals. He’s a German so usually he just feeds me cheese and bread. More on that later.

On the day before the race, I swam, cycled, relaxed, and visualized, listening to my motivation playlist. I attended the pre-race meeting and tried to ingest and internalize the instructions. Still, I was very glad to have Holger there to keep track of details, including the mandatory cut-off points and emergency procedures, while my mind was on other things. After a relaxing dinner prepared in the “wash house” kitchen in the Oberhaus, packed everything we needed for the boat and the swim and went to bed early with our alarms set for 5:30 am to catch the train to Rapperswill.

Thinking about swimming and cheese.

The next morning we woke to cloudy skies and drizzling rain, as per the forecast. Arriving at the Seebadi, we found muesli and cake, coffee and tea, and 100 swimmers and supporters stretching and milling around. We connected with the support boat pilot (I can’t remember his name), greased up, took some photos, went pee eighteen times, and went through visualizations again and again. Holger wished me luck and went to find our boat – I would not see him again until the swim was underway. All swimmers entered the water and waited for the official start. This is all a memory blur of nerves and emotions to me now, but I remember feeling well-fed, hydrated, and ready to swim, if a little bit intimidated. My goal for this swim had always been to finish since it’s sort of my gateway to even longer swims that I plan to attempt in the future.

Do I look worried? I was worried.

Hours 1-4

And then we started, and I found Holger and the boat. It was an open boat with a small outboard motor, adorned with our number (W1), some balloons, and a very handsome German sitting in the bow. Meeting up with your boat is always a huge relief during long swims. The boat and your support person are your lifelines, information source, and fountain of motivation. They also control the snacks, so you have to be nice to them. I swam alongside the boat for a good hour, feeling mostly fine. It was too early to determine how I measured up to the other swimmers, so I swam comfortably and started feeds about an hour in. During one stop, Holger let me know that our captain wanted to take a detour to his house (?) to get a better jacket. He assured me another boat would monitor me while they quickly zipped out and back. I was surprised and a bit taken aback – but I didn’t kick up a fuss. I treaded water for a few minutes while the other boat came up and kept swimming. When Holger and the captain returned, all went normally for 2 or 3 hours. Then the boat sputtered and stopped. The driver was able to get it going, but it wasn’t long before it shuddered and quit. I missed the entire conversation since I was swimming, but Holger later told me he’d had strong words – in German! Yikes!- with our young captain, who seemed completely overwhelmed and didn’t know what to do. Holger demanded that he make a call and get another boat to come. By this time, I was aware of the problem and waited for the next support boat to arrive. I don’t know how long it took, but eventually my second support boat arrived, they moved Holger and all of our supplies over, and I started swimming again. Goodbye, first captain, I hardly knew ye.

Hours 4-9

Boat #2 captained me for the next 4ish hours. Swimming for long stretches impacts your perception of time, so my recollection could be slightly off. My feeds generally went well, and we were sticking to the plan. I had SFuels Train, HEED Electrolytes, water, and Snickers bars. I had Ondasetron for nausea. I knew I was quite far back in the pack, but I was still occasionally passing other swimmers, swimming beside other swimmers for a while, and getting passed by other swimmers. Lake Zurich has no shortage of interesting landmarks to swim past, plus the water was temperate and clear despite the increasing amount of wind, waves and chop. This is just the flow of the swim, and sometimes the flow is against you. It does not help to worry about it or despair about making time or to let my competitive nature take over. In fact, one of the key reasons why I swim is to temper this tendency upon which my career relies, but doesn’t serve me in other areas of my life. What matters is keeping pace, swimming strong, paying attention to my body and thoughts, and remaining connected to my support person. I’ve been lucky to swim with excellent supporters, and Holger is no exception. His calm demeanour, warm smile, and German adherence to process make him an excellent partner and support person. We have had many backcountry adventures where things like nature peeing and tent farting are no big deal. But this swim was the first time he had the great pleasure of watching a full-on vomit come out of my mouth. Yes – nausea struck again, and I spent some time hurling (elegantly) before I was good to go again. I hope this wasn’t when we passed Tina Turner’s house.

The second boat captain appeared to be a no-nonsense type of person, so when I was waved over after a feed, I was concerned to see the concern on both his and Holger’s faces. They told me there was a very real risk that I would not make the cut-off at Meilin, which would effectively pull me out of the race. This information caught me by surprise. The conditions were tough, but I’d thought that my pace was sufficient to get me through the first 13 km in plenty of time. Through all of the planning and safety meetings, I never worried about swimming fast enough. I felt a pang of despair and panic. The delays caused by the boat shenanigans had cost me time that I now had to make up. There was no time to waste. I knew I’d have to increase my pace, shorten my feeds, and spend less time enjoying the scenery. As much as I always seem like I’m in a rush, I don’t actually like to be hurried, and I HATE being late. With the big Meilin church in sight, I kicked it up a solid notch and powered onward.

Hours 9-12

The next few hours went by in a blur. Nobody pulled me out of the water. I mostly consumed electrolytes and water during my feeds since the SFuels just wouldn’t stay down. The conditions didn’t let up, and I felt the exertion in my body and mind. I barely remember this section of the swim as hyperfocus took over and it was just stroke after stroke, head down and moving forward. I continued to swim, and when I looked up I was convinced that Justin Trudeau was in the support boat next to me. Was I hallucinating? At my next feed, Holger told me that there was indeed a new boat and a new boat captain, and he was not Justin Trudeau. Third boat lucky? I hoped so! The second boat had also broken down so they called in another reinforcement. I was so focused on swimming that I hadn’t noticed any of this going on – only a brief acknowledgment in my limbic brain that a handsome, dark-haired man was now driving the boat. Best of all, they told me that I had made the subsequent Kusnachter Horn cutoff and I was going to finish the swim. In fact, I had only 4kms to go – just another hour of swimming. This news gave me great joy and also the motivation to turbocharge the effort of the last section. I declined any further feeds and decided that whatever meagre calories or fumes remaining in my body would have to suffice.

Coming in hot. (Not Justin Trudeau in the boat.)

Again, a blur of an hour that I have difficulty recollecting, and then the end was actually in sight! Holger and the boat captain (not Justin Trudeau) waved goodbye and it was just me swimming into the finish. I knew from watching previous years’ event videos that there would very likely be an interview right at the finish line. I hoped I’d get a flower lei. I hoped I would be able to right myself in order to climb up the steps. This is a legitimate fear. Whether running toward the shore, clambering up a ramp, or climbing stairs, being horizontal for 11 hours poses a challenge to your brain. Knowing it’s being recorded and captured for time immortal is daunting when you are legitimately not sure what your body will do. Thankfully, mine cooperated one last time (thanks, Body!!) and I made it up the stairs to be greeted by very friendly volunteers who put a flower lei over my head and shoved a microphone into my face. They commented that I looked very strong and asked me some questions that I don’t remember. They put a medal around my neck. I was done. I did it. It was over! 26 km from Rapperswill to Zurich by the skin of my birthday suit, but I’d done it and now I could go and projectile barf all over the men’s changeroom in the park (couldn’t find the women’s). I am very, very sorry to whoever might have come across the grisly scene, but I did my best to hide the evidence and returned to the finishing area to celebrate the incoming swimmers and watch the awards. So many amazing, inspiring swimmers. I am honoured to have shared the water with them!

It’s incredible how quickly you switch gears after the extended sensory deprivation of a marathon swim. I hugged Holger (who was already on his third plate of food), chatted with Martyn, posed for photos with a Canadian flag, ate something (not sure what), and congratulated other swimmers – some of whom I’d followed and fangirled on the ‘Gram. Of course, I was interested in my stats. I’d swam the second half faster than the first, thanks to the Meilin cutoff scare. I’d finished in 11 hours and 25 minutes – much slower than I hoped, but still below my goal of 12 hours. I’d done everything I could to prepare feeds that wouldn’t make me sick, but had thrown it all up anyways. As with every swim, there are hard lessons, well-fought wins, and so much gratitude. I am grateful for a partner who is willing to pee into a bottle for nearly 12 hours so that I can chase my dreams, and then give me a smooch after he’s seen me empty my guts. I’m grateful for people like Martyn who share their wisdom and experience, contributing so much to this awesome community of athletes. I’m grateful to the people who sent texts for Holger to read to me during feeds, because every positive message was like a little current in my favour. I’m grateful to the volunteers and the local community, boat captains and all, who make this event so very special. It’s really one of the life-changing ones….believe the hype. Maybe I’ll do it again some day. Anyone want to paddle? 😉