Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon: Epic Swim Tests Even the Best
I completed the Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon 2021 in San Francisco in mid-August, my third time doing it and the most challenging one yet. The notorious swim across San Francisco Bay was a real test — at times, it felt like I might not make it to shore. Overall, it was another memorable experience. Here’s my recap.
The Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon is very popular and typically caps the field at 2,000 athletes. There’s a lottery system to get in. This year, there were fewer competitors due to Covid, but it was still a good turnout with more than 1,300 finishers.
The winner, former Olympian Ben Kanute, blazed through in 2:10:11; the last finisher clocked 6:13:49. I completed it in 3:56:32, which was 17 minutes slower than my time in 2019, due to a longer-than-expected swim (more on that shortly).
This was the 40th anniversary of Escape from Alcatraz, so there’s a lot of history with this race. The course, which has changed over the years, is a non-standard distance: 1.5-mile swim, 18-mile bike, and 8-mile run. It’s similar to an Olympic-distance triathlon, though the swim and run are longer and the bike course shorter than the actual Olympic event.
Alcatraz is known for its challenging course and picturesque venue—the San Francisco skyline, Golden Gate Bridge, Presidio coastline, white-capped San Francisco Bay, and Alcatraz Island as the backdrop. The water is cold, the hills steep, the run like a cross-country course.
Contrary to its name, the triathlon does not actually start on Alcatraz Island, home of the old federal prison that closed in 1963 and now a tourist attraction. The athletes take a big paddleboat, the San Francisco Belle, to a point near Alcatraz Island and jump from the ship into the Bay.
The Swim
On race morning, the transition area at Marina Green opens at 4 am. It’s dark, so you need a flashlight to get your gear in order. Once set up, you take a shuttle bus to Fisherman’s Wharf where athletes board the San Francisco Belle. The boat departs at 6:30 am. The boat ride is actually pretty relaxing, as there’s time for a light breakfast and small talk with the other athletes.
The race begins at 7:30 am with a blast of the horn. There are no age group or male/female wave starts, as at most triathlons. The pros go first, then all the other athletes crowd forward to the deck and, within a few minutes, everyone jumps into the cold, murky water.
This 30-second video on Twitter shows the crazy swim start.
It’s a challenging swim and potentially dangerous, due to the currents, swells, and choppy waves. A few years ago, the entire swim had to be canceled due to risky conditions. Most years, the water temps range from 55 to 58 degrees (Fahrenheit), but this year it was a relatively balmy 62 degrees. In fact, I think the water was warmer than the air on race morning. The weather was overcast and foggy with poor visibility to the shore, which made sighting difficult (as you can see from the photo).
The swim distance—supposedly 1.5 miles—is an approximation. When I did the race in 2018, my GPS watch recorded the distance as 1.3 miles. This year, many swimmers reported distances of 2 miles or more. Unfortunately, my GPS didn’t track my swim, perhaps due to the cloud cover.
And it was a tough 2 miles — the swim took me 23 minutes longer than in 2018 and 2019. The current was pushing me away from shore, so I had to work extra hard to move forward. My strategy was to swim south towards landmarks on the shore, cut across the current, then exit at Chrissy Field Beach (see graphic).
That plan worked well in 2018 and 2019, but not this year. It felt like I was in a rip current or giant washing machine. I was being pushed west and had to double my effort to get across the current. After a while, I looked at my watch and was startled to see that 40 minutes into the swim, I was still a quarter mile from shore. In previous years, I had completed the entire swim in under 40 minutes, so I was well off my expected pace.
And it wasn’t just me. The average swim time for the top 10 male swimmers in my age group [60–64] was 16 minutes more in 2021 than in 2019. The post-race consensus from virtually everyone was that it was an unusually long and difficult swim.
What happened? For one thing, my guess is that the swim was longer than 1.5 miles because the San Francisco Belle was further out in the middle of San Francisco Bay. And the Bay currents were “unfriendly” this year, pushing swimmers away from shore rather than sweeping them toward the exit, as typically happens.
I have not seen the race organizers acknowledge it, but all anecdotal evidence points to a longer swim with currents that were not as advertised. Even Ben Kanute, who has won Alcatraz the past 4 years, was 9 minutes slower in 2021 than in 2019.
It wasn’t a factor, but it’s worth mentioning that there is sea life in San Francisco Bay, including seals, sea lions, and sharks. Thankfully, “the big sharks usually stay away,” according to the event organizers.
My advice on the swim: My tactics didn’t take into account the Bay conditions for mid-August. Anyone considering this swim should consult with one of the local San Francisco Bay swim organizers before the triathlon and do a practice swim with them if possible.
The Bike
I’m a good enough cyclist. I don’t do group training rides. Instead, I train alone on the back roads of Long Island or get my miles on Zwift.
The three times I have done Escape from Alcatraz, my bike times have been amazingly consistent (1:16 in 2018, 1:15 in 2019; 1:15 in 2021). According to the race overview, there is 1,200 feet of climbing and descending, but my Garmin watch showed total elevation gain of 1,617 feet through five major climbs and a max speed of 39.9 MPH on the downhills.
I averaged 14.1 mph over 18 miles, which isn’t fast compared to cyclists who crank 20+ mph on flat roads, but the top guy in my age group averaged 17.7 mph, so I wasn’t way off the mark.
The ride is notable for long climbs and breathtaking ocean views along the Presidio, which is a 1,500-acre park at the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge, and then through Golden Gate Park, where the route is fast and enjoyable as you zip past Sunday morning joggers.
The climbs are a slow grind, so you can chat with the riders around you. As we made our way up one of the longest hills, on the Great Highway, I warned the guy next to me that the worst was yet to come—Seal Rock Drive, a very steep climb that forces riders out of their seat. I was looking for a lower gear, not to be found.
If the swim is the most anxiety-producing segment of Alcatraz, and the run is the most agonizing, the bike is a stress test but nothing to fear.
My advice on the bike: If you have a choice, use a road bike, not a tri bike, due to the hills and turns. I brought my road bike (Felt AR3) and was in control the whole way.
The Run
If you have anything left in the tank, the 8-mile run will empty it. The first mile is nice flat gravel, but the next five are up and down. Total elevation gain was 774 feet.
My run pace was 11 minutes, which is two minutes slower than my 10k pace. That’s due to the hills and the unforgiving “sand ladder,” which is a steep section of the run with 400 sandy steps that ascend from the beach to the bluffs. The sand ladder is at the midway point of the run, so my legs were spent by the time I got there.
The sand ladder was crowded as I pushed and pulled my way to the top using the hand cables. No one uttered a word at this point in the race. It required 100 percent concentration on knees and breathing.
Despite all that, the run was my biggest success of the triathlon. At 1:23, my time was 8 minutes faster than in 2019 and 12 minutes faster than in 2018. I attribute the improvement to the fact that I joined my local running club, the Northport Runners Club, during my 12-week training block for Alcatraz. The weekly track workouts helped raise my fitness.
My advice on the run: Incorporate hills and steps/stairs into your running sessions. The more, the better.
Training and Results
I don’t have a coach, nor do I use Training Peaks or other training plan. I like to keep it simple and don’t have patience for the interval sessions that are part of most formal plans. However, I did join a local triathlon club, Wildwood Warriors, which was super helpful for weekly open water swims.
The one training guru I have relied on for the past few years is Joe Friel. I was motivated by his book “Fast After 50: How to Race Strong for the Rest of Your Life.” And this year for the first time, I followed Friel’s very simple formula for athletes in the 50-plus age group: one hard training day followed by two or three easy days. You can read about it in his blog post here.
A typical week for me is 8 to 9 training sessions (swim, bike, or run), with one rest day. That adds up to about 50 miles of biking, 20 miles running, and 2 miles swimming each week, which is light compared to the Ironman people I know.
If I do Alcatraz again next year, I will increase the swims, since that was my shortcoming. That said, I believe my fitness level was good for the Alcatraz swim, and it was unfavorable conditions and the nearly 2-mile distance that slowed me down. Excuses, excuses!
During my 12 weeks of training, I lost 8 pounds and raised VO2 max by 5 points. So my keep-it-simple plan works, though I could probably do even better if I trained harder and smarter.
Here’s how all of that translated into race day performance: My final time of 3:56:32 placed me in the top half of my age group, 23 out of 52. Overall I was 887 out of 1328 finishers. Not bad, though I could have placed considerably higher with even a few minutes improvement in the swim.
I’ve now participated in Escape from Alcatraz three years in a row (not counting the 2020 cancellation), so the question is whether to do it again next year. The date is set for June 5, 2022.
There’s not a lot of time to think about it. The random drawing for next year’s event opens in just two weeks.
