TEAMS IN AMERICA

My sweat is dripping into my wetsuit as I head up the first cripplingly-steep climb of the day. I realise it’s quite fitting that I signed up to do this race six months ago on the wrong side of a couple of pints of robust local IPA in a bar in Marin, Northern California. After all, the original ÖtillÖ event was the by-product of a now infamous drunken bet, so I conclude it’s all good, and that I’m just doing my bit to continue an alcohol-fuelled tradition of sorts.

I’m instantly snapped out of my distracting train of thought by a stabbing pain in my left foot. I look down and realise I’ve kicked a small – but very spiky – cactus by the side of the trail. It’s a measure of the brutality of the course that it’s not until much, much later that night as I’m trying to sleep that I realise I have an inch-long spine lodged deep in my little toe.

The race is the inaugural ÖtillÖ Swimrun Catalina; a 38,600m circuit around a portion