The driving snow hits freezing water and exposed flesh; the swimmers are armed only with a pair of Speedos, goggles and a swimming cap.
Christof Wandratsch is submerged in the forbiddingly black water of an 82-foot-long pool, cut out of the thick ice of Semenovskoye Lake in Murmansk, Russia. His brain is screaming at him to get out of the water. His face is numb. His legs feel as if knives are being pushed into them; his hands and feet are alive with pain.
But this is what the German ice swimmer expected—it’s what he’s spent countless hours training for. Although Wandratsch is aiming to beat the six other men in the lanes alongside him, the real battle is going on in his head.
In this brutal environment, it takes mental steel to ignore every primal instinct to flee, and to complete the full 40 lengths of the race. He asks himself a question with each stroke: Are my legs still kicking? Is my form strong? Do I know where I am? As long as the answer is yes, he keeps swimming.
Wandratsch, a champion long-distance swimmer who swam the English Channel in a world-record- breaking time in 2005, discovered ice swimming in 2013 when searching for a new challenge. The sport is growing rapidly, and 50 swimmers have traveled to Murmansk in northwest Russia from 15 different countries, including Argentina, Australia and Zimbabwe, to compete in the first Ice Swimming World Championships.
There are few locations more testing. It’s bitterly cold. The vast white expanse of frozen lake is flanked by rows of white-topped, unmistakably Soviet housing blocks and leafless trees. A kilometer—a .6-mile race—is a marathon by ice-swimming standards, and to survive in these temperatures requires total focus. The driving snow hits freezing water and exposed flesh; the swimmers are armed only with a pair of Speedos, goggles and a swimming cap.
This is man versus cold in the purest sense. “There will be pain,” said Wandratsch before the race. “But that’s the test. You must be strong in your mind. You can’t be afraid of the water.” Here, there’s good reason to be scared. This is the Arctic Circle. Russian Lapland. Here, the water can kill you.
Ice swimming is defined as a swim that takes place in water of 41°F or below. Although dipping into ice water is traditional in countries such as Russia and Finland, long-distance events are new, a world away from revelry and shots of schnapps. “Ice swimming requires a unique skill set,” says Patrick Corcoran, from Ireland, who’s been ice swimming for almost a year.
“An ice kilometer is the Everest of swimming. It’s not about being fast, it’s about mental energy. An Olympic swimmer wouldn’t last a second in this water. Your mind is screaming, ‘Get out of here!’ You feel like Shackleton on an expedition. Then comes the recovery—the swim accounts for only 35 percent of the total effort; 65 percent comes afterwards. You have to fight your way back into the world. It’s extreme.”
Wandratsch is sitting in the sauna room, wrapped in warm towels. A few moments ago, he was keeled over on the wooden bench, suffering the inevitable pains of recovery. But now life is coming back. He’s sitting up, shivering profusely—a good sign that the body is recovering. Wandratsch has just learned that he’s the first ice-swimming world champion.
He did it in a time of exactly 13 minutes, beating the previous fastest time of 13 minutes, 53 seconds, set by Henri Karma, who finished third on this occasion. “I’ve swum the English Channel, distances of 50 miles,” says Wandratsch, “so one kilometer should be easy. But this is so different, so painful. I enjoy extremes, though. I don’t take silly risks. If you’re a marathon runner or pro skier, there’s risk, there’s pain. You just have to train every day and give it everything you have. The feeling of winning is hard to put into words. I’m very proud. I’m part of ice- swimming history.”
