21Km Lake Vidostern swim

Lake Vidostern Sweden recap

So, the Hippos have just returned from an interesting long weekend in Sweden, that has been in the planning since 2020. I came across this interesting swim in Sweden pre-pandemic that I thought I would go and have a crack at – a 21km lake swim, Sweden’s longest organised lake swim. It ticked all the boxes for our next hippo adventure, and we made our plans. Of course, the pandemic put paid to the swim for that year, and in 2021, we had international travel bans. In 2022 I got COVID, but finally, the opportunity to do the swim came up August 2023. It was due to be my biggest swim of the season, so it was all systems go to train for it – I lined up a few 10km swims, and the Brownsea island swim for preparation.

However, as the time approached, while I did a grisly 10km in Windermere, the Brownsea Island swim in Poole Harbour was cancelled due to adverse weather conditions (a bit windy). It seems to have been the year for it, with other swims also affected by the weather; the Lake Zurich swim was blown out recently and this weekend, here in Blighty, the Ullswater swim was called off due to heavy winds. It was not looking very positive, but off to Sweden we went, the adventure starting immediately with me booking us through Frankfurt with a 45 min transit time. A bit tight, but made more unattainable with a 30 min delay of the first flight. With the second flight delayed by 50 minutes, my faith in the lack of punctuality of airlines was restored and despite Slimhippo’s misgivings, we made it to Sweden.

We devoted Friday to investigating the lay of the land (and lake), and we headed to the start for a taster swim and see the route from the road. Slimhippo was going to be my shore support this year, so it was good for her to get her bearings. The water was chilly – 14.8 degrees Celsius (57 degrees Fahrenheit), with a southerly wind of about 6 knots. If the weather didn’t improve, we would be swimming into waves the whole way. Not something that had been on my training regime! The sun made an appearance towards the middle of the day, and the wind died down, so once we had finished our reccy, we went for a lovely walk along the river in the glorious sunshine before gathering for the swim briefing. The organisers had arranged for the briefing to be given in English first and then in Swedish for the majority of the competitors.

Stats were as follows:

• 80 volunteers making it happen
• 14 people doing the 42km  (4 Finishers)
• 96 swimming the 21km  (38 Finishers), 26 of which would be swimming without a wetsuit.

There were also a 6km swim, and a 500m swim for the kids.

In total, 16 nations were represented. You’ll notice that there was a very high attrition rate. This year, it was predominantly due to hypothermia, but last year swimmers were overheating!

The last test of the water temperature in the late afternoon revealed it had risen to 15.2 Celsius (59.3 degrees F). For the wetsuit swimmers, FINA rules applied; if the water is below 16 degrees Celsius, wetsuits are mandatory. For the non-wetsuit swimmers such as myself who preferred skins, we had to sign disclaimers so we could swim without a wetsuit. By the end of the evening, over half the non-wetsuit swimmers had opted to swim with a wetsuit so there were only about 11 of us that did not use one.

Before I bore you with my story of the race, I would like to extend a congratulatory hand to all who finished. The conditions on the day were brutal and the statistics show it. The previous year was totally different, and next year will be different again. It is what I love about open water, no two days are the same. A massive thank you to the Slimhippo and all the people who support the swimmers. It is only because of you that we can do our swims and you are all the most underappreciated group of people in this game.

But the biggest thank you must go to the organisers. I have been lucky enough to have done quite a few lake swims around the world, but this one was on another scale. The setup, the start, the feeding stations, the finish and the prizes and gifts were amazing, and I whole heartedly recommend this swim to anyone who is up for a big challenge. It may not be the biggest or the longest swim in the world, but it definitely has to be up there with the best, and one of the toughest swims I have done. And I clearly have unfinished business with this lake.

The Zimhippo Race day experience

After the usual sleepless night and an early start, we gathered at the starting point at about 6 am. The wind was up a bit, the water temperature was hovering at around the 16.5 degree mark. Swimmers were milling around getting ready, keeping warm and applauding the 42km swimmers (they had started the night before and swam 21km overnight to this point where they exited the water and then waited to join the rest of us for their 2^nd 21km leg in our start).

Just before 7am, we made our way down to the water’s edge for the start, said our goodbyes to our supporters and waited. The wind was now whipping up the waves from a southerly direction, which meant we would be swimming directly into the waves. At 7 am on the dot, a flare was set off, and the loud bang heralded the start of the race.

This is where it gets quite funny. The lake is quite shallow for about 300m out. If you are not aware of this, you may decide to sprint in and take a dive in – and promptly faceplant into about 20cm of water. Those that did this had to pick themselves up and continue the LONG walk/jog out to where it was deep enough to start swimming. Every so often there were those who would optimistically dive into the lake only to realise it WAS STILL VERY SHALLOW

So, after a 3-400m amble out into the depths of the lake, testing the water- and splashing it over my body, I was happy that it was actually not that cold and I would be fine in the temperature. I was now about 50^th in the pack and there were about 6 non-wetsuit swimmers ahead of me. I put my head in and started to swim. It was impossible to get into a nice rhythm with the waves constantly battering me in the face; every time I tried to site for the buoys or even breathe, I was taking on a lot of water.  I had to switch to breathing on both sides. Although I can breathe bilaterally, my one side is definitely much smoother than my other side, so now I was having to breathe on my bad side . This at least alleviated the problem of swallowing water with every breath, but I could not avoid getting smashed in the face by a wave every time I had to sight. The waves may have only been 30 – 50cm high, but the best way to sight is to switch to a water polo stroke to get your head high enough to see over them. Whilst this may be perfectly feasible to do over short distances, doing it for kilometres on end plays havoc on many parts of your body if you have not trained in that environment.

The lack of wetsuit did not help; when I lifted my head up high to breathe and sight, my legs sank down, and I wasted a lot of energy trying to keep them up, as I needed to kick to help propel me over the waves. In flat water, I seldom use my legs but I’m able to maintain my level body position by keeping my head down in the water. Effectively I was now swimming with a completely different stroke to one that I had trained with over the last year.

The first feed station came into view after 3.6km – a pontoon in the water with a smorgasbord of refreshments on it. One side was dedicated to the slower feeders and the other side for the faster feeders. By now I had gotten into a decent albeit taxing rhythm. I did not know where I was in the pack, but I was happy that I was doing alright and managing a decent time considering the battering we were taking from the waves. I tried hugging the shore on the next 3.9km stretch and it did help a little bit. The route is slightly longer but the respite it gave me from the waves was much appreciated. I got into a good rhythm and slowly got myself up to about 10^th place in the standings, 1st place in the non wetsuits – according to the trackers. There was not much more to do apart from put my head down and just go and TRY TO RELAX into my stroke and not fight the water.  I was in a decent position, not really making any headway on the leaders but not getting passed by anyone. This stretch went by surprisingly fast and after about 2 hours 20 minutes I was at the next feeding station.

This feeding station was out of the water, so you have to exit the lake to access it. There was an even bigger array of food including energy gels, energy bars, cokes, bananas, jelly babies, cinnamon buns, pickled cucumbers, coffee – and other Swedish treats. I was told by my support crew that I was now leading the non-wetsuit swimmers and was on track for a sub 7 hour swim. I took a quick feed, got some coffee on board to keep my warmth up and then back into the lake for another 5.5km stretch.

I swam out into the lake and followed the shore to the left. As soon as I left the sheltered bay, the waves returned, bigger and even nastier than at the beginning of the race. Even my recently adapted stroke was no match for these waves. I had to make further adjustments to my breathing, head position and legs, and most of all I had to use my legs a hell of a lot more that I am used to doing, to keep them up and help me move through the water.

My pace slowed dramatically. Although I was making headway, it felt like I was swimming through syrup. There was no uniformity in my stroke at all, and all the tiny muscles that maintain my posture started groaning at me. Quietly at first. Every now and again there was a respite from the waves, and I reverted to the tried and trusted stroke I know so well – smooth and efficient. I was making good pace but the waves returned. Towards the end of this 5.5km stretch, the groaning was now a loud cacophony of my body screaming at me to slow down. Ultimately, I had to take a break and switched to breaststroke for a bit and just floated in the water trying to stretch out my body. None of the mental techniques I use every day were up to the task of keeping my body quiet. For the first time ever, I was up the Vidöstern creek without the proverbial paddle to get me through it.

Taking breaks did help, but while I was doing this, swimmers were catching me up but there was little I could do to counteract their efforts.

Of the groaning body parts, there were some I could totally understand; my shoulders – yes, I figured they would be hurting. My neck – yes, I figured that was going to be sore and the chaffing on my neck did not help. My back, well, I expected that to be a bit sore but there were others that were screaming at me that I was not expecting. One being my elbows but the muscles that were really annoyed were my hip flexors. They were not only screaming at me, but on fire as well.

Soon I was at the next feed stop. I hobbled to shore and approached the feed station, took on some energy drinks, coffee, Coke, jelly babies and cinnamon buns. With SlimHippo’s help I tested my blood sugar levels – having recently being diagnosed as a diabetic, I have to watch my blood suger levels regularly, especially when I am expending lots of energy. It was difficult to get any blood out of my fingers for blood glucose testing, but we did get some out eventually.

I then waded back into the lake and nearly collapsed as my left hip flexor screamed out in agony. I stopped dead and had to gather myself before moving slowly and carefully back to the shore to my support team. I took a few pain killers, then tried again to head out to the lake but I nearly passed out as the pain from my hip flexor hit me like a steam train. I managed to sit in the water. It was at this point I realised that my swim was over. I could not carry on and there was no way of getting rid of the pain. I had torn or strained my hip flexors and there was nothing I could do to ease the pain in the short term.

So, after just under 14km, after having led the non-wetsuits, and with about 2 and bit hours to go to the end, my race was abruptly brought to an end. There was nothing I could do but clock it up to experience and a really good training swim. I was gutted!! There was no way I could go on without the ability to kick at all.

It was not the cold that got me, as it did many people, it was the waves. I had not trained in wavy conditions for about two years, and it showed. My body was just not used to the constant changing of stroke, and with each adjustment made, although minor, the tiny supporting muscles that hold this amazing thing that is my body together just did not have it in them on this swim.

The race carried on and the lovely Slimhippo was around to pick up the pieces – as per usual. The organisers were most supportive and I warmed up slowly.  She took me up to the finish to cheer on the finishers.

It was an epic day for all involved. But like any swim adventure that the Hippos go on, and despite the disappointment, we would not change it for anything. Each swim teaches you something – and we both walked away with more experience. As always, we meet wonderful people and rub shoulders with some amazing swimmers. We make new and inspiring friends along the way and have a great time doing it. Thank you to all for being a part of this Hippo’s adventure.