Taupō Training

It has become 'tradition' that the build-up to summer swims starts with the Labour Weekend 30km, and 2023 was no different. We began on Saturday of the long weekend with Freyberg-Balaena Bay-Freyberg swim (just a touch over 5km), followed by breakfast, and then 5km in Freyberg Pool. The following day began with a 4km squad session at Freyberg Pool, a quick circuit of the 1st buoy, breakfast, and then relocation to Worser Bay for four laps between Worser Bay and Seatoun Beach. During these laps, an initially breezy southerly increased in intensity, making for slower laps towards Seatoun but fun and fast returns to Worser Bay. Afterwards, a feast of fish and chips brought everybody back to life. As in previous years, a core group had undertaken to swim all 30km, but we had plenty of visitors popping in to swim different components of the weekend's unofficial programme, and even some out-of-towners. Monday morning began with a big 6km pool set, then a lighthouse lap in a gusty northerly (this split the group slightly: Sarah and I decided we needed to hit the sea as soon as we'd finished in the pool, lest our motivation wane, while a second group decided that they needed to refuel, regroup, and revitalise first. Finally, a few hardy souls sped around to Hataitai for the final dip of the day when the Wellington triathletes officially 'break the ice' for the season on the afternoon of Labour Day. 

From late October onwards I increased distance and intensity, building to 30km weeks, and the second significant stage of preparation, the six-hour 'Madness' in and around Freyberg Beach/Oriental Bay. The established course is a series of 1200-1300m laps, out to the second 5 knot marker buoy, then around the fountain and pontoons. I've typically had a feed stop after every second lap, feeling that a 45-50 minute gap between feeds makes the 30 minute intervals during the actual swim more manageable. There have now been several iterations of this training swim since November 2021; each has presented some challenges, namely gusty conditions. In 2021 and early 2022, northerly gales dominated, and in December 2022 and November 2023, we had a southerly instead. In preparation for Taupo, I wanted to get my six-hour swim done quite early, so planned to do the six hours on 25 November (also my birthday), come what may. The forecast suggested moderate southerlies, which seemed doable, but when the day arrived, nothing was moderate at all. The wind was approaching gale force, bringing rain and hail squalls. Apparently, conditions for the support crew were gruelling, but I still maintain it was worse for the swimmers. Despite all that, of the three times I have done the 'Madness', this was possibly my favourite occasion, a reminder that with experience comes greater enjoyment... 

The dedicated crew on 25 November, including Rosie

Despite how much they protested, they look pretty happy here

The exacting conditions made for constant diversion, and I spent most of the time swimming by myself, although aware that others were in the water. The strength of the southerly, an unyielding wall of wind, did make the second half of each loop around the second buoy significantly slower; unlike previous years when I've completed fifteen laps in under six hours, this time I came in for my snack after lap 14 right on six hours. The ground crew made pointed hints that perhaps I should truncate lap 15 for everybody's happiness and comfort, and this seemed a good idea. However, my snack must have given me extra powers as I whizzed out to the first buoy and thought 'I could easily make the second buoy.' Then I remembered that the return trip would be horrible, and as I'd passed the six-hour mark, it seemed considerate to remember the poor damp supporters on the beach and let them go home. Apparently, they'd been up to all sorts while the swimming happened, participating in shopping trips and a kapa haka festival, among other diversions. Rebecca kindly drove me home, where I had an unscheduled siesta in my big jacket, and then woke up to open some presents.

The laps my watch captured before the battery conked out

I should hope so

Multiple birthday cakes on 26 November

The rest of the summer I maintained a 30km weekly average, with 50km week in early January. I felt concerned that I wasn't doing more 40km weeks, but balanced this by ensuring my solo training sessions in the pool involved a lot of intensity. Knowing that the lake water would be warm, I spent a lot of time at Thorndon Pool in the afternoons, where a combination of strong sunshine, soupy-warm water, and two new favourite sets generated a lot of sweat. These two sets were either:

12 x 200y pullbuoy and paddles (4@3:10, 4@3:00, 4@2:50 while maintaining a pace between 1:15 and 1:18 per 100.

5 x [2x100@1:35, 1x200@3.10] maintaining the 100m pace in the 200s. 

In addition, I developed a new favourite warm-up. It's extensive, covering 2000m, but sets me up well for some hard interval sets, and is easily adaptable to a 25 metre, 50 metre, or 33 1/3 metre pool:

• (With fins) 5 x 400m @6:15 as: 1 length back kick/1 length backstroke swim/1 length back kick/1 length freestyle swim.
•  The first 400 is at a very easy pace, maybe aiming to finish just on 6 minutes; the next four 400s become progressively faster, so maybe finishing the last one ~5:45.  To vary the 400s, I would focus on speed in different areas, so doing fast kick and easy swimming, then doing fast backstroke on the next 400, fast freestyle on the fourth 400, and fast everything on the final 400. This also increases the heart rate nicely.

These pool sessions were balanced by longer sea swims ('for speed' on calm days and 'for resilience' on less friendly days with a variety of companions who were training for swims in Foveaux Strait and Wānaka.The usual summer activities of Splash and Dash and Round the Lighthouse provided regular testing: in 2024 Round the Lighthouse returned to the old Capital Classic route: a deep-water start, a long opening stretch to the lighthouse, and then a shorter return lap to Freyberg Beach. I regard this event as a good test of fitness and enthusiasm, and 2024 did not disappoint, offering a very blustery northerly, some mountainous chop, and good racing for those who like big ripples. 

We enjoyed some great weather in the early summer, or at least, a good number of windless mornings. These permitted some beautiful 6am sea swims, and managing to fit in a Balaena Bay (5km) swim, or Hataitai-Freyberg (4.5km-ish) before work provided distance with the added motivation of fitting in breakfast before work. 

Early-morning Hataitai-Freyberg Swim

Although I worried that I wasn't doing  enough 40km weeks, I believe the strategy of focusing on intensity in the pool, with three or four squad sessions, and three solo sessions (also incorporating the occasonal drill-only session to recalibrate my stroke) paid off. I avoided injuries and illness, which indicated general good health. My job is not sedentary, and involves a lot of time on my feet (I usually achieve around around 6,000 steps while at work) as well as lifting, carrying, and bending. These activities mean that the work day is physically tiring, especially following a morning swim. We're also exposed to the general public, which means a lot of germs, so I wanted to avoid illness. On a few days when the weather was hot, and the workplace stuffy and airless, it felt a struggle to go back to the pool for an afternoon session, so I factored in various ways to bank enough training that I could skip the odd Wednesday or Thursday afternoon. This strategy worked: the energy saved by not doing second swim sessions on those days meant I had more energy in the weekend to make up some distance.

We're now lucky that thanks to the miracle of social media, we can follow the activities of marathon swimmers all around the world. I love this, and have borrowed lots of swim set ideas from a number of phenomenal swimmers. These exchanges of information and opportunities to find out more about where people swim, and what they achieve does increase a sense of community worldwide. While its motivating and exciting to see how others train, sometimes their activities, and especially their weekly distances, can be disheartening, creating feelings of inadequacy. My goal for Taupō was to swim 40km as well as I could, and I knew how to train for this, based on the advice of my coaches, my experience of other swims, and the experience of other swimmers; however, seeing swimmers around the world preparing for shorter swims, but putting in multiple 50km or 60km weeks with lots of 10km+ sessions, as well as a weight/gym programme just made me worry about my own preparation. So, from sometime around November/early December I switched off these platforms, making a resolution not to return until after I'd swum. While I believe myself sceptical about what we see on social media, tellingly it still can have a negative effect, and I think that turning away from that ultimately helped me. 

Of crucial importance, for me, is always to find enjoyment in the preparation process. Fortunately, the nature of planning to swim Taupō involves less waiting and uncertainty: unless a cyclone comes along, it is fairly likely that the swim will take place in the planned window, or in the worst case, be delayed by a week. Therefore I could plan to be ready by a specified date (itself a little daunting). This was a very different experience to my two previous swims: in 2023, my initial swim date window for Foveaux was the end of January (for which I felt unready) but I didn't swim until 1 April. The uncertainty, and repeated delays were unsettling, but I could look upon them as opportunities for more and better preparation. In December 2021, I swam Cook Strait while expecting to have had at least another six weeks to prepare: this experience also furnished me with useful experience, namely to trust external assessments of preparation and fitness.

Ultimately I was ecstatic, when the day came, to complete Taupō in a quicker time than I'd ever expected. Overall, I could have executed parts of the swim far better than I did, and possibly could have been a little faster. If I did it again, I certainly know what I'd do differently, but Taupō was a new experience, after doing two (nearly three, if we count the March 2021 Cook Strait extravaganza) big sea swims. I'm delighted to now be part of the Triple Crown group, but far more significant are all the things I've learned from others, from the experiments and tests of training and racing, and the knowledge I've gained about myself. During this time, most importantly, has been the unique privilege of spending many hours in three unique and beautiful bodies of water.