The 6 Buoys of the SwimGP

The SwimGP 2025 was my first open water swimming competition, marking the end of my very first sports season in this discipline. I remember a training session, which now feels so long ago, at the start of spring, when Bibiana encouraged us to take part in competitions, particularly the SwimGP. With a big smile, I replied, half-jokingly: “But isn’t it swim for fun?”, to which she quickly replied, also smiling: “Only for some!” When registrations opened, I resisted signing up. My classmates were sharing ideas about participating in events from the north to the south of the country, but I, like a small village of irreducible Gauls, stubbornly resisted the invader. Still, in my mind, I had already decided I would compete in July, and I imposed on myself a training routine in the pool, complementing my swims at Duquesa beach, in preparation for that competition. So, every day, before swimming class, I would swim for half an hour, focusing alternately on technique, speed, or endurance. As the first registration deadline approached, I still didn’t feel ready. Until, one day, I was confronted by a training mate’s blunt statement: “You, who get up every day at 6:30 am to swim, aren’t ready for a 1 km race?! You, who have already been to competitions to support your teammates, who know and enjoy the atmosphere, don’t want to be part of it?! You’ll regret it later!” That very day, I registered for the 1 km SwimGP race.

Although the distance was physically attainable, the race had its mental challenges. It would take place in the bay of Cascais, which is naturally sheltered, and consist of a closed circuit around six buoys. But the distance from the shore was intimidating, especially when reaching the fourth buoy of the course. In addition, the use of an individual safety buoy would not be allowed. There were also more mundane challenges, such as my worn-out wetsuit after a year of use, and the chaos of arms and legs at the start and when rounding the buoys. With no other choice, mind and body embraced, ready to overcome these challenges together. Every day I thought about the fourth buoy, and in each weekly training session I tried to infer the course and estimate the distance. On the eve of the race, I tried on a new wetsuit, dull in appearance and with a strong smell, and made a final effort to familiarise myself with the course.

And so, the day of the race finally arrived. I was nervous, but eager to start. Two hours before, I was doing resistance band stretches; one hour before, I was putting on my wetsuit; half an hour before, I swam out to the nearest boat. The swimmers were called not to a line, but to the start area. We took our final team photos and then dashed into the sea. I started at a pace that was dynamic yet comfortable. I then recalled Bibiana’s advice about rounding the buoys: “Stay away from the buoys and from other swimmers! Don’t worry about strategy—just focus on doing the race!” Curiously, by distancing myself from the swimmers, I ended up closer to the first buoy and rounded it unscathed. The second buoy then came into view, though I could see little else. My goggles seemed to be coated in ointment, so I had no real sense of the distance from the shore. At the third buoy, I turned my back to the coast and headed towards the fourth buoy—the one I had visualised so many times in my mind. There were small ripples, but they were gentle. Several RIBs accompanied the swimmers, helping to guide us and spot the buoys camouflaged among the boats. I thought, “I don’t know where I am, and I don’t have a buoy,” but I trusted I was being watched and kept safe, so I kept my focus on the buoys. Upon reaching the fifth buoy, still at a comfortable pace, I picked up speed slightly. I finished the race with a steady pulse and a decent time. I grabbed the bottle I had prepared in advance—with protein and a pinch of coffee powder—and joined Bibiana, who was cheering for each and every one of her swimmers. The atmosphere was vibrant and welcoming, like a family reunion. In the meantime, I had already set myself my next challenge. The senseis say that it’s only when you reach the black belt that you truly begin karate. The first open water race is like the black belt: I have only just begun to swim.

Sofia Carvalho