Jamie Lawrence

Swimming review: 2025

This post probably is not for you. It’s the indulgent reflections of a middling mid-life swimmer who really needs to remember to be proud of himself and, if he doesn’t write all this down, he’s likely to forget he did any of it.

Highlights

  • First swim races/events in 10 years
    • Gaelforce Trilogy (3.5km, 3.9km, 3.9km)
    • Garnish Island (5km)
  • Personal bests set this year:
    • 800m
    • 1000m
    • 1500m
    • Longest open water swim (5.6km)
    • Longest swim (8km)
    • Highest annual total (316,517m)
  • Shoulder injury: recovered
  • Left ankle: recovered
  • Right ankle: new injury!

Preamble

The start of my 2025 swimming really started in late-2024 and with an unlikely joint.

I’d been having ankle problems for about 18 months and working with a physio and rehab exercises in the gym to fix it. I finally got a specialist consultant appointment, and another MRI, and was diagosed with osteoarthritis in the ankle joint. That wasn’t a surprise since it has two screws in it from a car accident. Before Christmas I had an injection of hyaluronic acid into the ankle so I had to rest for a week, and only light swimming.

But none of that mattered because I’d also buggered up my right shoulder.

I started 2025 sitting on the couch, unable to swim, and figuring out how best to protect my ankle. Logically, I thought, this was the best time to sign up for The Gaelforce Trilogy—three swims in river, lake, and sea between May and September. The only swim events I’ve ever done were 10 years ago and that was a 1km “paddle in the park” and the 2km Lee river swim. With a few clicks I’d just entered a 3.4km, 3.9km, and 3.9km race and I wasn’t sure if or when I’d be able to swim again.

January: Meh

It was a miserable month with almost no swimming. In it’s place was lots of physio on the shoulder, particularly dry-needling on the infraspinatus and lats. Infraspinatus is a nasty muscle to have dry-needled as the pain radiates over the shoulder and down the arm. Did not enjoy.

I started doing some cardio sessions on the bike at the gym just to replace the swimming and keep me active. Also meh.

February: Slightly-less-but-still Meh

I got back to some light swimming, mostly drills like sculling and fists to build up the rotator cuff without tightening everything up again. Still doing lots of rehab work in the gym and at home.

The number of exercise bands in the house multiplied.

March: I’m (slowly) back

I was finally back swimming around 2-2.5km sessions, without pushing it, and continuing all the physio and rehab work in the gym.

I did a CSS test to determine my threshold pace which came out as 1:42/100m

April: Training hard

Things are starting to get serious with The Great River Swim only 6 weeks away. I needed to get out of the pool and into the open water but, even with some unseasonably warm weather, the sea was still freezing cold. I got in two short (<1km) swims during the month and that’s about 8 weeks earlier than I’d ever been in the sea. Having the race was a huge factor forcing me into the water much earlier, and much less comfortable, than ever before.

I was swimming between 3-4 times per week, 2 sessions in the gym, and rehab exercises each day it felt like I was seriously training for the first time in my life. There was rarely an “off” day. Apparently, and this still sounds ridiculous in my head, I need to think of myself as an “athlete” and prioritise fueling, training, and recovery accordingly.

Got some new pool goggles: Arena Cobra Ultra Swipe. They really live up to their marketing hype of being anti-fog, which is a first for any goggle I’ve owned. Just wet the googles, swipe the inside with a finger, and hey-presto: no fog. That said, I tended to favour the Magic5 goggles for most swims as they are, by far, the most comfortable pairs I own.

May: The Great River Swim

The unseasonably warm weather had continued and we were treated to the best of Irish weather: blue skies, sunshine, and not too warm. We took the shuttle bus up to the starting point and the guy next to me asked how long I thought it would take me. I thought about 1:10 depending on the current. He replied, “oh, wow. You should have been in Wave 1 with the elite swimmers”. Um… what?

The river was lower than usual and as we entered the water I looked around and started to wonder if maybe I was going to be faster than most of the wave. I moved up towards the front of the pack at the start line but there was still a fair number of people in front of me when the race started. I started swimming, filled with nervous adrenaline, but unfortunately some of the people in front of me hesitated or were waiting for more space. I kinda swam over one person and my elbow hit some part of another. Sorry. That was my first experience of the chaos of a swim start.

I’d not swam in a river in a long time and I’d forgotten how easy it is: the current suited my long smooth stroke, the water was calm, and there was basically no navigation required. It was like swimming on rails, just following the meandering river from one corner to the next surrounded by reeds on either side.

After a few minutes I’d cleared most of the other swimmers but there was maybe 3 ahead of me. One by one I started passing them out. And then I started passing out people from Wave 1 which had started 10 minutes before us. And some swimmers from, I think, the 12km event that had started hours earlier—they were looking pretty exhausted by that point.

After maybe 1km, I noticed someone drafting on my feet but they weren’t touching my toes so, whatever, enjoy the free ride! Coming up to the bridge, which was the only real navigation required, I spotted the family on the bridge and gave them a quick wave then put my head down and lost the person on my toes. I managed a bit of a sprint for the finish and then struggled to actually get out!

The random song for the day, by virtue of having these few lines stuck in my head for the entire swim:

Gotta give a little something
Gotta take a little pain
Gotta dig a little deeper
We gotta keep the faith
Hell or high water
We didn’t come to lose
—Eclipse, We didn’t come to lose

I finished the 3.5km course in 0:58:43: first in Wave 2, 10th place overall, and 2nd in my age group. A very good result for my first race! Though, upon reflection, most of the better swimmers were probably doing the 5.8km or 12km races. Something for next year, maybe.

I was tired afterwards and my lats were pretty sore but otherwise I felt really good about it. There was a nice little festival atmosphere at the end and I enjoyed sitting on the grass afterwards having a picnic of Coke and fizzy jellies with the family. My daughter repeatedly told me how proud she was of me so that was good.

After the swim I flew out for the company retreat in the US… and came back sick. Again. 😖

June: Mallorca

June kicked off with the SwimSmooth course in Mallorca. There’s really nothing more I need to add to my blog post about the experience in 2024. It was a different group of people but the experience was just a good, the 50m pool at the BEST Centre was as glorious as ever, the hotel was nicer, and the coaching just as valuable.

I set a new CSS of 1:35/100m showing that the training I’d done for the river swim had paid off, but I then spent the week trying—and failing—to live up to it! 🥵

I think I was still recovering from being sick but I completely died during one memorable pool session. I’d never experienced anything like that before: I was at the end of the pool, holding on, and I knew someone was talking to me but I couldn’t actually hear them or process the words. I ended that session early but it lives on in the SwimSmooth Guru app as “Jamie’s Downfall”. I also remember leaving everything in the pool after some sprints and being destroyed afterwards. My shoulder injury also flaired up on another session but was mostly ok for the rest of the week.

I left inspired after a conversation with Paul and I entered the only 5km swim left in the Irish 2025 swim calendar: Garnish Island. It was a swim I’d wanted to do for a while but it sells out quickly and I’d never had the confidence to enter the 5km distance. I had until mid-August to prepare.

At the end of June I was back in Brighton for the Brighton Ruby conference and, of course, took advantage of the wonderful 50m Sea Lanes pool on the beachfront. I was a bit apprehensive about the Garnish Island swim so I decided to prove to myself that I could swim 5km by doing 10x 500m. Then I did it again the next day to prove to myself that I could do it when I was fatigued.

July: The Great Lake Swim

It was one of the hottest days of the year at Lough Derg for the Great Lake Swim, with the air temp around 30°C and the water 22°C.

I swam the 3.9km distance in 1:06:46, placing 14th overall and 7th in my age group. I was pretty happy with that as it was at the faster end of my prediction. I also swam non-stop and, again, enjoyed passing lots of Wave 1 swimmers. After the first few hundred meters, I told myself that I wasn’t going to let anyone pass me—and I didn’t.

I’m not really competitive but I do enjoy setting challenges for myself even if that means using other people to do it. Another mental game I played was thinking of passing other swimmers as “taking caps” (though, of course, I’m not actually assaulting them). Anything to pass the time and make it interesting.

There isn’t much room in my brain for thinking during a race. I’m just constantly iterating between sighting for the next buoy, looking out for other swimmers/kayakers etc, enjoying the view of the weeds and fish, repeat a line from a song, counting my strokes (for no reason), reminding myself to stay calm, to relax, and to keep my form.

After around 2km my thumbs and index, middle, and ring fingers felt like they were wrapped in elastoplast: they felt big, slight pins & needles, and I couldn’t feel them well (but could still move them). They weren’t white. I could keep swimming but I had less feel for the water. It went away after a few minutes on shore. The same thing had started creeping in during the river swim and the 5km in the pool but it was more obvious now.

I felt a bit flat afterwards. I didn’t have the high of the first swim and I didn’t have anything to really compare myself to. Was this a good time? I didn’t really have any external reference for was “good” looked like.

August: Garnish Island

August was about preparing for the Garnish Island swim and I kicked off my birthday with my longest open water swim: 5,600m around Myrtleville. I rarely plan things out and I never tell anyone what I’m attempting but I thought a really good long swim in the sea what give me some more confidence going into the Garnish Island swim.

The birthday swim was also an opportunity to try something I’d never done before: feeding. Packed into a new donut tow float I had a Rice Krispy Square, Precision Fuel energy gels, and some ‘Zero’ electrolytes. I made a point of stopping after the second and third laps to feed even if I felt like I didn’t need it.

My birthday also brought a new watch as a present! Hilary bought me a Garmin Forerunner 570 to replace my beloved-but-aging Garmin Swim 2. I was apprehensive because of the “Forerunner” name but all the same swim functions were there and the buttons did the same thing so my muscle memory still worked. I also got lots more data like HRV, training readiness, training effect, better sleep data, ability to track strength workouts, water temperature, recovery time… and a lot more I don’t pay attention to. I highly recommend this watch for swimmers.

And, most interestingly, I was finally able to install the SwimSmooth app on the watch to analyse my stroke. Sure enough, my top priority is to fix my straight-arm pull, particularly with the right arm.

Glengarriff was packed on the day of the Garnish Island swim, as it is most weekends during the summer but now there were a few hundred swimmers & spectators there too. I left the family in town to get food and I took the shuttle bus to the starting point on my own. That felt kinda weird as they’d always been there to see me off in the previous races.

The song on today’s mental jukebox in a 10 sec loop was Halestorm’s Everest:

It’s the shame, it’s the pain, something I can’t explain
It’s a noise, it’s a voice, and it screams in my brain
It’s a curse, and it hurts, but I just keep going

It’s a fairly simple course: out from the slip to the island, two counter-clockwise loops, and a straight swim back. I stuck to my plan of executing one lap of the island (~2.5km) and then stopping for a feed. I think I only stopped for about a minute and just had a quick drink but it was a revelation! Feeding (or, as I told the kayaker, my picnic) made me feel like I could swim… forever?! It was also a fun and varied swim: calm heading out, then a bit of chop, then we were practically surfing with the waves behind us, and finally back to a serene bit of water.

My goggles started fogging up after about 100m so I had to flip onto my back, take them off, spit into them, rinse them, and pop them back on.

Garnish was an event (not a race) so there was no official timings or positions but my watch timed it at 1:30.31 for the 5km. For what it’s worth, Strava had me at 4th for those that recorded it, and 7th best time for that route. I don’t put a lot of stock in that but I felt really good.

The 2km Myrtleville Swim, postponed from June, was cancelled again. I reckon the stars will never align for me to complete that one.

September: The Great Fjord Swim

After Garnish Island I stopped really worrying about the Killary Fjord swim. I’d just swum 5km and I’d done 3.9km back in July so this should be a walk in the park. Right?

My preparation wasn’t great with a few weeks of low mood, low energy, and conference travel getting in the way of some long training swims. Mostly I managed 3km sessions.

A week out from the swim, the weather forecast looked pretty wet & windy. With a westerly windy, it would mean the wind coming from behind us on the first leg, and into our faces on the return journey.

My plan was just to start reasonably close to the front of the wave, use the first kilometre to get settled, then nice calm swimming with long strokes into the turn. Then I knew we’d be into the wind and the chop, and it would be a higher tempo fight on the way home.

The forecast materialised as predicted with 25kph winds, gusting 45kph, funnelling straight down the fjord but, apart from a rain shower as we walked down to the start line, it stayed dry for the swim. We even got a lovely rainbow and some blinding sunshine on the swim out. Thankfully the organisers had changed the route from a looping rectangular course to a straight out-and-back, sticking close to the shore where it wasn’t quite as lumpy.

Today’s song was The Pretty Reckless’ For I am Death:

For I am death and I can feel
I got my hands upon the wheel
I am not lost
For I have found the only one
Who put me down
For I am death and I won’t break
I got a life
I’ve got to take
When will it end, this sufferin’ of late?
It was nice to know you

You might have wondered what thoughts go through a swimmer’s head as it’s being pounded by waves for an hour and a half, but you probably didn’t expect this man in his 40’s, wrapped in neoprene, to be saying “for I am death… for I am death… for I am death” on repeat.

Things mostly went as I thought they would: I started well and got ahead of the pack. When my goggles started leaking after about 100m, I rolled onto my back to fix them and there was a few people ahead and no one on my feet. Yes, the same thing that happened in Garnish Island. I think I need a better system of getting the goggles race-ready.

I continued for what felt like foreverrrrrr. The only notable events on the outbound leg was nearly missing a buoy because it was positioned closer to shore and I was sighting on the next one, and my tow float being constantly blown forward and banging into my elbows. The wind might have been with us but it was a pretty frustrating experience because on every single recovery the tow float would be blown into my arm.

I decided that I’d take a quick break at the second turning buoy. My fingers were already numb and I knew it was going to be a slog on the way home. I took 40secs to have a pee (don’t judge!) and stretch out the arms then I headed into it.

“It” was choppy waves that constantly slammed into my head, dug into my arm, or left me catching thin air. I channelled all the videos of Darragh swimming around Ireland or Ross battling through immense storms around Iceland. Conditions weren’t that bad, it wasn’t as far, and I wasn’t that good, but the visualisation helped a lot.

I staggered out, leaning on a volunteer for support after 1:29:18; 31st overall and 9th in my age group. My watch measured the course at 4.5km though and this seemed to be corroborated by a few others. The time and placings might not look as god but I think it was the most competitive race I’d done and the conditions were easily the worst I’d swam through.

October-December

Bleugh. I wasn’t feeling in love with swimming for October and November and, even though I was on sabbatical for a month, I swam less than usual.

Then I hurt my achilles. My other ankle. I started this year with a busted left ankle and finished it with a busted right ankle. Thank god I’m a swimmer and not a runner.

I started the SwimSmooth 10 week CSS challenge for something to do. My CSS test came out a little slower (1:36/100m) than in Mallorca and I didn’t decrease the CSS pace each week as I was supposed to.

I really enjoyed one of the sessions each week which had 800m of drills, 400m of 50m fast/slow/tempos, 8x100m at CSS pace, then some variation of 1000m at CSS (400/300/200/100, or 2x 500m etc). I became a lot more comfortable swimming at my threshold pace and by Christmas I was struggling to swim slow enough! Instead of 1:35/100 I’d be hitting 1:30, 1:32, 1:32, 1:32 (no, I was really trying to go slow on that one), 1:32 (wtf!), 1:34… though I still struggled with the pace on longer intervals and I definitely still struggled with the rest times.

With the short fast/slows in that set, I started wondering how hard a 1:00/100m sprint is. It’s fucking hard and I’m waaaaaaayyyyy off (about 1:20). Still, it’s kind of an interesting medium-term goal. A 20m pool isn’t ideal because you hardly get going before you’re turning again, and I don’t usually tumble turn (I can—I just don’t like it and I’m not fast at it). Oh, and I can’t dive in this pool. Anyway, I played around with sprinting a bit for fun and managed to hit a 1:00 pace for a single length (12 secs for the 20m) and 1:07 for two. It’s a milestone. Maybe I’ll do something with it next year.

The pool was closing early on the 23rd December and I got it into my head to attempt a long swim which might help me decide on some goals for next year. Like, a really long swim. I chose 8km as a potentially achievable distance though it would be my longest swim ever. 2x 400m, 12x 600m, and 2h40m later I got it done. Interestingly, I swam it at an average 1:42/100m pace which was the threshold pace I started off with in March and I’d have struggled to maintain for much more than 1000m back then. I spent the rest of the day on the couch!

Whilst writing this I also discovered that I was just 2km shy of my highest annual total so, yeah, you bet I got in the pool and claimed that PB too.

Inspiring swims of the year

Instagram is my drug of choice for swim content and there was a ton of inspiring swims to enjoy this year.

It was incredible to watch Darragh Morgan’s swim around Ireland and Ross Edgley’s swim around Iceland. Absolutely insane overall distances, insane daily distances, insane sea conditions. Insane. Loved them.

Brian Foster did a triple Fastnet Swim, breaking the record for the one-way swim, and then breaking the record for the two-way swim, and being the first to complete the triple. Also insane.

We also had the Olympics! Watching Ireland’s Daniel Wiffen win the 800m was a source of national pride. Bobby Finke’s amazing 1500m final was stunning from the start. “Can he hold on? Can he? He fucking can!”—I loved it even as he was beating Wiffen. And then there’s Katie Ledecky: I can’t get enough of watching her dominate the 1500m.

I saw Catherine Breed’s Faralon Islands swim, Sarah Thomas just repping out daily 10km swims for practice, Hector Pardoe swimming the three longest lakes in the UK in under 24hrs, and Amy’s double Windamere.

David from the SwimSmooth Mallorca camp did a double crossing of Lake Geneva. Paul was an inspiration again, winning the Oceanman 10km in Dubai and showing what your 40’s can look like.

Next?

I think before I got into the water in Lanesborough I realised I might have under-estimated myself; by the time I got out I knew I had. I was a bit apprehensive about the 5km swim in Garnish but I quickly proved to myself I could do it. And the 3.9km swim at Killary proved I swim in tough conditions—though it was a real slog.

As soon as the Gaelforce Trilogy was over, I started looking ahead to swims I could complete in 2026. I’m inspired by these massive swims I see other people doing but I’m also resolutely uninterested in cold water—I just don’t enjoy it or find it rewarding, or invigorating, or feel the need to prove myself according to “channel rules”. I have no intention of swimming the English Channel.

I’d like to do a 10km swim (a marathon distance for the runners still reading this indulgant rubbish). Or, more precisely, I think I’m capable of swimming 10km and I’d like to have done it. The actual doing of it isn’t likely to be pleasant.

As of New Year’s Eve, I’m thinking of redo-ing the Gaelforce Trilogy but this time as 12km for the river swim, 3.9km for the lake (still the longest at that event), and the new 8km distance for the fjord. I think the river is doable though remembering the look of those 12km swimmers I passed adds a bit of reality to my optimism. The fjord makes me nervous if only because it’s 8km, straight West into the prevailing wind, which might be howling like this year.

I’m not sure I want to travel for swim races. The UK is convenient, and has a lot of events, but the water conditions aren’t good and there’s a lot more expense and logistics. I’d also like to do an Ultraswim (33.3km over 4 days) but not sure I make the dates work or convince myself I have the endurance for it. Very tempting though.

Random Reflections

Wave 2 is quite nice. I enjoyed the less aggressive start line energy, relished the game of catching Wave 1 swimmers, and it was definitely easier having a constant stream of swimmers with their colourful tow floats to guide the way. That said, if I do it again next year I should be starting in Wave 1.

Advice to paddlers: don’t bother talking to a swimmer when they are swimming. We can’t hear a thing with the sound of the water and some people need to use ear plugs. Pointing your arm or paddle in the direction is far more effective. You’re really more like a sheepdog that uses it’s body, not its bark, to control the sheep. Ideally position yourself to the left or right of the swim route and use your presence to shepherd swimmers in the right direction—we’ll try to steer away from you and the closer you get, the more urgently we’ll move. Mostly.

I’ve taught myself to celebrate like an Olympian. It’s all too easy for me to complete a tough set, maybe set a new PB, and get out of the pool, sit in the sauna, get changed, leave, and mention it to no one. Instead, I’ve started celebrating like I’ve just won the Olympics: shouting “YES!!”, “Fuck, yeah”, punching the water etc. The pool isn’t usually busy so I’m not disrupting any one though I probably appear like a lunatic. I don’t care. No one else knows what I’m doing, no one else cares or understands what I might have achieved, but my body does and it deserves to physically celebrate that achievement. It deserves more than just a mental nod of approval and slinking off home.

Songs for swims. A single line of lyrics on repeat can get me through a swim so I have a curated playlist now. Feeding is great. I need to do this more. Numb fingers thing is annoying. I think it could be Thorasic Outlet Syndrome (nerve restriction around the collarbone) and I’m going to investigate more in the new year Coaching and strength training. I’ve been swimming ~3 times a week for about 12 years but in-person coaching and strength training in the past 2 years has brought my swimming to a completely new level. Don’t sleep on it (I wish I didn’t). Comparison is the thief of joy. I’m just not as good as many other swimmers (but I’m practically elite compared to the general population and I’m much much better than past-Jamie).