How My Own Swimming Made Me a Better Open Water Swim Coach

Marathon swimming is not just about getting to the other side. It is about preparing someone physically, mentally, and experientially so getting there feels manageable, even enjoyable. That belief did not come to me all at once. It came from years of my own training, my own mistakes, and eventually, my own athletes.

I found marathon swimming in 2021 and, like many swimmers entering the sport, I started without a coach. I was drawn to the simplicity of it. One swimmer, one body of water, and the challenge of seeing what I was capable of. I assumed success would come from swimming more, swimming farther, and checking off bigger numbers each week.

When I started out, I leaned heavily on volume and pace, the metrics that felt the most measurable and, honestly, the most reassuring. I sought advice from mentors I respected, but looking back, not all of it was the right fit for me or my body. That is an important distinction I carry into my coaching today. What works for one swimmer may not work for another. What works for ten people may not work for five others. And there is always one swimmer who needs a completely different approach.

That lesson became painfully clear during my third marathon swim, the Catalina Channel. On paper, I was ready. I had completed the training, hit the mileage, and checked every box. But I had mistaken doing more for doing better. I arrived at the start physically fit but carrying months of accumulated fatigue that I did not fully recognize until I was in the middle of the crossing.

For more than twelve hours, I swam in pain. I kept moving forward and finished the crossing, but when it was over, I knew something was wrong. The training that had gotten me to the starting line had also left me with a shoulder injury that took months to heal. I did not swim at all for the next four months. That experience forced me to rethink not only how I trained, but what successful training should actually accomplish.

Exiting the water after my 1st Catalina Channel crossing.

And it shaped how I look at every training plan I write. Real progress is not about stacking miles. It is about making long swims feel achievable in a variety of conditions. When you reduce the variables and break the distance into stepping stones, confidence grows naturally. When swimmers train in different environments, different water temperatures, and at different times of day, they stop chasing perfect conditions and start trusting themselves in any conditions.

Technique matters most when you are tired, uncomfortable, and mentally worn down. It can be discouraging when your stroke falls apart in the final hours of a long swim compared to how it felt at the start, and that frustration can lead to breaks in training that are hard to come back from. This is why I focus on what I call additional gears. The ability to switch to backstroke, surge briefly, kick hard, or increase to a threshold pace after hours in the water gives swimmers tools to reset both their form and their mindset, even late in a swim.

When I returned to the water, I rebuilt with intention. I systematically changed my stroke to reduce the stress on my shoulders. I slowed my stroke rate, focused on better rotation, and learned how to generate power more efficiently instead of simply working harder. Those changes not only helped me recover, they became the foundation of how I coach today.

When I build a training plan, whether it covers one month or one year, I start with the person, not a template. I think about their schedule, their life outside the water, their stress load, and what they can realistically absorb. Endurance does not happen in a vacuum. For someone with a demanding job or young children at home, the fatigue they carry into the water is real and has to be accounted for. Structure matters, but flexibility matters more.

As I gained more experience, friends started asking me for help preparing for their own marathon swims. At first I was simply sharing what I had learned through trial and error, especially the mistakes I hoped they could avoid. Watching them succeed, and seeing them arrive at the start line confident instead of depleted, made me realize I loved coaching every bit as much as I loved swimming.

Sidney before kayaking a training swim for some of her athletes.

Volume has its place. If someone can get fit enough to swim two hours, they start to believe they can push to three. If they can swim two hours two days in a row, that builds the foundation for three, then four. For swimmers who are naturally slower or who struggle to find multiple gears, volume helps create the endurance to keep going when a swim gets long. But stacking long swims week after week without purpose is a mistake I have seen and made. A swimmer training for a twenty mile crossing does not need to swim the full distance. The goal is to reach a point where they trust they can go farther than they have already gone without having to prove it repeatedly.

The same philosophy has guided my own swimming ever since. It carried me through a double Anacapa crossing and eventually a double Catalina Channel crossing. Those swims reinforced that success comes from thoughtful preparation, adaptability, and trusting the work you have already done, not simply accumulating more miles.

Most of the swimmers I coach are everyday people. Some have competitive backgrounds. Some are adult learners. But almost all of them share a common goal, to finish the swim strong. How I get them there depends entirely on who they are. Are they fast? Do they have competitive experience? Do they take a lot of breaks? Do they fixate on their watch? Do they tend to spiral mentally when things get hard? The answers to those questions shape everything.

When a swimmer says, "I just want to finish," I have learned to pause and look a little deeper. Sometimes it signals burnout. Sometimes it reflects outside pressure, or a goal that was never really theirs in the first place. It can come from wanting to prove something to themselves, or to someone who did not believe in them. It can point to a lack of readiness that has not been named yet. Whatever is underneath it, that phrase is worth paying attention to. The experience of a marathon swim changes when the only goal is to get through it.

Coaching should never be about simply finishing the distance. It should be about the journey, building specific tools, focusing on quality over quantity, and putting intention behind every part of the process. Structure and planning matter, but the ability to adapt matters more. I question the process regularly because what is right at one point may not be right three months later. It is okay to adjust. It is okay to change the plan entirely.

The goal is not simply to get to the other side. The goal is to be so prepared that when you arrive, you are not ready for it to be over.