My First Three Kilometre Open Water Swim

This is part of a series of posts on James’ preparation for the 2026 Ottawa Ironman Triathlon. You can read other posts in the series here.

Getting my feet wet

On July 11, 2026 I participated in a 3 km open water swim as part of a swimming event called Bring on the Bay, starting at the Nepean Sailing Club in Ottawa and ending at Britannia Beach. As part of my preparation for the Ottawa Ironman Triathlon on August 2 I wanted to dip my toes into open water swimming. Since Bring on the Bay’s 3 km course takes place in a similar location as the triathlon’s swim portion, this was the perfect opportunity for me to test the waters before August 2. Leading up to Bring on the Bay, I practiced open water swimming at Lac Meech and Lac Leamy in Gatineau.

As a novice swimmer who started swimming less than a year ago, this was the most intimidating triathlon-related event I had signed up for to this point. Many triathletes, regardless of experience, find the swim most daunting because most of us feel more comfortable on solid ground. In my case, the swim represents over an hour of physical exertion in a slow, viscous medium, with no hydration or nutrition, and no breaks (technically one can rest by floating on their back, but I prefer to stay in motion). These doubts made it all the more important for me to do this.

Open water swimming: the broad strokes

Swimming in open water is very different than swimming in a pool, though not for the reasons that people may think. Waves, current, water temperature, and swimming in a wetsuit all have a learning curve, but barring extreme conditions, are not particularly hard to get used to.

The main challenge has to do with the fact that swimming in straight line in open water is surprisingly difficult. For this reason an indispensable skill is sighting, where one lifts their head out of the water mid-stroke for a split second with eyes facing forward to see where they are going. Proper sighting often requires doing it on two consecutive strokes, as the first sight is sometimes not enough to get one’s bearings, and from then on one does it every seven or eight strokes. In addition to the physical mechanics of sighting, the swimmer also has to know what watermarks (not landmarks) they are looking for, such as a particular buoy or boat in the distance that helps to situate themselves, and is harder to do than it sounds; identifying such watermarks is best done on land before entering the water.

And mentally, one has to get over the fear of there being no pool bottom or edge to rest on, and out there it can feel like sink or swim (not literally fortunately, depending whether one is dragging a floating buoy behind them, or in an organized event where there are boats and kayaks one can grab onto if needed).

My Bring on the Bay experience: the watered down version

For sake of brevity this will not be a deep dive into my experience.

Arrival and preparation

I arrived at the Nepean Sailing Club shortly after 7:00 am and met up with my pal Alex who was also swimming the 3 km, and who is also doing the Ironman Triathlon on August 2. We chatted a bit with other participants, of which there were about 650. I deliberately avoided putting on my wetsuit, since wearing it is a point of no return (no peeing, no cooling down while on land if it gets too hot). Around 7:30 am I took the plunge (figuratively) and started putting on my wetsuit. The swim was wetsuit optional, and a little under half of the 3 km participants wore one.

Once dressed, I lined up with my speed group (pink caps), the slowest one with a projected finish time to one hour 25 minutes or more; I was slightly confident in being faster than that based on my times in the pool, but as mentioned open water swimming is very different and it remained to be seen how well the skills would carry over.

Pink speed group

The swim course had a series of stationary sailboats at every 100 m, each one displaying a sign with distance remaining (e.g. 2000, 1900, 1800 etc.), along with volunteers on kayaks. Swimmers needing a break during the race are allowed to grab onto the boats, and if needed will be retrieved from the water and taken to the finish line.

The first swimmers entered the water at 8:00 am. My group inched closer and closer to the starting line. When it was my turn, I decided to make a splash and jumped in feet first.

Time doesn’t get docked while waiting here to start, fortunately

The swim

I immediately settled into my race pace, and quickly entered deeper waters (a less experienced swimmer would have felt out of their depth). My mind was racing (along with my body) for the first few hundred metres because of the culmination of so much anticipation up to that point. To simulate triathlon conditions where the swim is followed by cycling and running, I relied on my arms to propel myself forward, using my legs sparingly.

Remember sighting? Well, I made a number of inadvertent off-course detours during the first 500 m, and a volunteer on a kayak had to come redirect me towards the course. From then onward I made sure to sight more frequently and more intentionally, to stay current with my whereabouts.

After 500 m the water became choppier, with small waves crashing against the top of my head and a feeling of bobbing up and down while swimming. I accidentally inhaled a bit of water on several occasions, and while that would have freaked me out in the past, I did a couple of underwater coughs to clear my lungs, turned my head further towards the sky to breathe, and kept swimming without missing a beat.

Things felt good through the middle 1,000 m of the race and I maintained a good rhythm, confident in holding it till the end. By this point my mind had shifted from “holy crap I am really doing this” to “huh, this is actually kind of fun,” thanks to the sense of progress from counting down the distance with each sailboat passed.

While there was generally a lot of space between swimmers, on a few occasions I accidentally bumped into another swimmer from behind or from the side; these things happen in open water swimming, and both parties just go with the flow.

After 2,000 m there was a sharp righthand turn through a narrow section of water between a large buoy and a volunteer on a kayak, requiring frequent sighting to avoid missing. Now in the final third of the race, I was still feeling good and started thinking about a final sprint. With 500 m to go I increased my stroke rate and started kicking harder. With 200 m to go I could see the finish line arch on the beach, and maintained my sprint pace. Once my hands touched the bottom, I stood up, sloshed my way through the remaining water and ran a couple of steps across the finish line, dripping with a sense of accomplishment.

Post swim

I convened with friends and family waiting for me at the finish line and soaked in what I had just achieved. I then picked up my bag, which the organizers had transported from the starting line, and got changed.

I completed the race in one hour 12 minutes, well ahead of my speed group’s predicted finishing time and on level with my best 3 km time in the pool. This exceeded my expectations, and was in spite of my having taken inadvertent detours in the early stages of the race.

Lessons learned

Conquering aquaphobia

As mentioned, I expected the swim to be the toughest triathlon event because it takes place in water, and Bring on the Bay was a great way to overcome that doubt. Initial worries related to waves and current turned out to be mental obstacles rather than physical ones. My performance and finishing time gave me a much-needed confidence boost in the water leading up to the triathlon, not to mention a better estimate of how long I will need to complete the 3.8 km swim on August 2.

Also worth noting that I can now consider myself an advanced swimmer despite having started swimming less than a year ago.

Preparation is everything

Open water training proved to be invaluable for avoiding surprises on race day. There is only so much one can learn from YouTube videos, and there is no substitute for actually doing the activity, no matter how scary it seems at first. And I now appreciate the importance of sighting efficiently in order to stay on course and avoid losing time on unnecessary detours.

Swimming is an inclusive sport

Long-distance cycling and running primarily attract participants with a lean and slender build. Swimming (whether open or pool) attracts a wider variety of body types, which makes it a more inclusive sport. And before one judges a person based on their appearance, I can attest that some heftier swimmers are easily faster than me, and more power to them.

Event flow

Bring on the Bay was my last organized event before the Ottawa Ironman Triathlon. Here is hoping I will make waves, keep the wheels turning, and stay in it for the long run on August 2!