Pool shark

The South African Ironman takes place in Port Elizabeth, somewhere I’ve not yet been, but according to WIkipedia is nicknamed ‘The Friendly City’ (generally good), and ‘The Windy City’ (not great for the bike leg of the IM, but there we are).

The IM swim takes place in the sea. We’ve been in South Africa for a year now and I have yet to venture into the sea. Quite apart from the fact that we live in Joburg (not super conducive to beach trips), there’s also been a little too much watching of National Geographic, the DIscovery Channel and Nat Geo Wild, which all seem to thrive on programmes like ‘Shark attacks’, ‘Bite night’, ‘I shouldn’t be alive’, ‘Great White Death’ – you get the idea. We live further from the sea than we did in the UK, yet I’ve learned more about sharks in the past year than in the previous 20.

In the various previous Ironmans I’ve done there’s certainly been a sense of trepidation regarding the open water swimming and what might be lurking in the depths, but generally I’ve not had too much specific shark fear. You (generally) don’t get many sharks in Norwegian fjords, relatively few in the Mediterranean, and practically none in German rowing lakes and Czech reservoirs. Don’t get me wrong, I’m certainly not blase about open-water swimming – I have a well-known aversion to small fish and seaweed – and managed to convince myself whilst swimming in a very murky fjord that there was a narwhal flitting in an out of sight just below me and to the left, until I realised it was my left hand.

Anyhow – now that I’m preparing for an Ironman in waters off South Africa, where there are most certainly sharks, it’s a whole different ball game. I’ve been assured by a selection of people and a range of websites that Port Elizabeth is not the spot for serious sharks, and certainly not at that time of year. But this doesn’t change the fact that there clearly are a few around, and from tiny thoughts do mighty terrors grow.

The beach at Port Elizabeth looks stunning – although I’m not sure if Great Whites choose their hangouts on the basis of how attractive the beaches are.

With all this general sharkishness meandering around the depths of the brain, this morning’s swim session took on a strange complexion. The pool is in Sandton, Johannesburg, a comfy 500km from the coast. The pool is also on the 10th floor of an office/hotel block. Despite these two very important points, the little niggly bit of the brain was fixated on the reason for the training (the IM swim), and as part of that, it kept bringing up the question of how likely bumping into a shark might be during that swim, and, probably a product of spending an hour splashing up and down the pool with little else to occupy the mind, what I’d do if I saw one. As a part of this last section, that now really rather annoying niggly little bit of the brain, would occasionally project a shark into another corner of the pool. Quite effective as it turns out – made a couple of the lengths noticeably quicker.

Ultimate training technique, imagine this chap is swimming behind you

Now, while this all smacks of irrational fear, I’m thinking about fostering it a little more. As I pondered the slightly impossible question of what I might do if I bumped into a shark in the IM swim during one pretty slow length, I discounted punching it on the nose, or in the gills, or trying to outswim it, then suddnely realised that in actual fact with another thousand or so swimmers in the water with me, I didn’t really have to outswim the shark – just the other swimmers. Which, in essence, is what I should be focusing on doing anyway.

So, as I got to the end of the swim-session (possibly slightly low on blood sugar given the number of sharks spotted), I decided that maybe, just maybe, in this particular and bizarre instance, the pool shark is my friend.

Tomorrow is run-day. Might use cheetahs for that.