Out the back is where you win
There’s plenty of talk these days about times, distances, and paces.
But anyone who’s spent a morning in the ocean knows that none of it really matters.
The ocean doesn’t care how fast you are.
The waves don’t check your watch.
And that feeling when you dive under your first wave of the day?
You can’t measure that in minutes per hundred.
Ocean swimming has never been about performance.
It’s about participation.
Every time you step off the sand and into the sea, you’ve already achieved something special.
You’ve left the noise of life behind.
You’ve chosen to connect with something bigger, freer, and beautifully unpredictable.
That’s what it’s all about.
Showing up.
Getting salty.
Soaking it in.
Whether you swim one lap of the bay, a short stretch along the beach, or go point to point, it all counts.
It’s not about how far you go, but that you go at all.
If you’re new to ocean swimming, it can feel intimidating.
There are people who’ve been doing it their whole lives.
They read the waves like a second language.
They make it look effortless.
But every single one of them started somewhere, too.
And the ocean still teaches them lessons every day.
Your journey is yours alone.
You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone.
Not the seasoned swimmers.
Not your mates.
Not even your GPS watch.
Because here’s the truth — ocean swims can’t really be timed anyway.
Currents shift.
Courses change.
Distances drift.
One 2km swim can be 2.5km the next time, or 1.7km with a little push from the tide.
So why get hung up on times that don’t mean anything?
A swim with headwind, chop, and swell might take you twice as long — and be ten times more satisfying.
If you want to track something, track how often you smile.
Track how calm you feel when you finish.
Track how alive you are when you grab a coffee with your crew.
Because the real goal isn’t to swim faster.
It’s to keep swimming.
To make ocean swimming part of who you are.
Once you do, it gives you more than you could ever give back.
Confidence.
Clarity.
Community.
And that unmistakable sense of freedom that only comes from the sea.
Whether you’re gliding through glassy water, diving under a dumping shorey, or floating in the stillness between sets — you’re doing it.
You’re participating.
You’re part of it.
And that’s what matters.
So next time you’re standing on the sand, don’t ask how fast you’ll swim or whether you’ll “do well.”
Ask something simpler.
Am I going to enjoy the freedom today?
Because out the back, that’s where you win.