Ultra Swim 33.3: A Challenge a Year in the Making

Mike Lyons, CEO of Horizon Leisure and Open Water Swimmer

At Horizon, we believe in continuous improvement, whether that be physically, mentally or a general feel-good perspective. Swimming has always been one of my greatest passions; it brings focus, and a sense of calm and balance.

Earlier this year, I decided to take that passion to a whole new level by signing up for one of the most demanding open-water challenges in the world, the Ultra Swim 33.3 in Montenegro.

Over four days, swimmers from across the globe take on 33.3 kilometres of open water along the stunning but unpredictable Adriatic coastline. For me, it wasn’t just a race. It was a test of resilience, discipline, and belief.

Known during the event as Micky, Swimmer 192 UK, I crossed the finish line after 10 hours and 18 minutes in the water, placing 26th out of 106 swimmers, a result I was really pleased with and one that I will never forget. Here’s my journey.

The Decision

When I first came across Ultra Swim 33.3, it sounded almost absurd. Thirty-three kilometres of swimming in open water? I’d never even done more than seven. But the idea stuck with me as it was the distance of the English Channel. It shifted from something impossible to something I couldn’t stop thinking about, and eventually, something I had to do.

I started training in January. Over 600,000 metres later, a combination of both pool and sea, I’d built not only physical endurance but also mental resilience. There were setbacks, illness, work pressures, fatigue, but I stayed consistent. I wanted to prove to myself that with enough commitment, ordinary people can do extraordinary things.

Arrival in Montenegro

By the time I landed in Dubrovnik for the short transfer into Montenegro, the nerves had fully arrived. I barely slept the night before, replaying the challenge in my head. Would I be ready? Had I trained enough?

The first morning in Montenegro, I woke at 5:30 a.m. to the sound of wind howling through the trees. The warm-up swim was cancelled. Flights were grounded. Some swimmers hadn’t even made it in. For a moment, I wondered if it would all fall apart before it began.

By the afternoon, the wind eased. I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to get into the sea. The water was warm, the air electric with anticipation. My goggles didn’t leak, the wetsuit felt perfect, and my stroke flowed easily. Tomorrow, the real challenge would begin.

Day 1 – 3 October: Herceg Novi to Portonovi Marina (6.8 km)

The alarm went off at 5 a.m. I’d packed everything the night before, goggles, swim cap, tracker, tow float. I climbed aboard one of the boats with over a hundred other swimmers, the atmosphere charged with excitement and fear.

The original route was meant to be 8 km, but the weather forced a change. It was the first reminder that in open-water swimming, nature always has the final say.

When the announcement came, “Wetsuits first, please enter the water,” I felt my heart race. Jumping from the boat into the open sea, I was suddenly surrounded by turquoise water and darting fish. Then the siren sounded, and we were off.

The first few kilometres were chaotic, elbows, splashes, and adrenaline. By halfway, I found my rhythm, stopped briefly for an energy gel, and focused on keeping my stroke strong. The waves built toward the finish, but I kept going, counting every pull until I finally reached the end. Exhausted but elated, I knew I’d started something special.

Day 2 – 4 October: Chedi Lushtica Bay to Sunset Point (10.9 km total)

The next morning came too soon. My body ached, but I forced myself up at 5 a.m. The sea was calmer, and the sun had returned.

The first 7.9 km leg took me along the coastline, bright water, rugged cliffs, and silence except for my breathing. At times I was completely alone, surrounded by nothing but endless blue. Your mind goes to strange places out there; every doubt, every thought, every fear drifts in and out with the waves.

After 2 hours and 25 minutes, I reached the finish! Then came the second part of the day, three laps around Mamula Island. The waves slammed against the rocks, kayakers fought to stay upright, and the sea turned into what we all called the “washing machine”.

No sharks, thankfully, unless you count the café that charged €10 for a Coke.

When I finally climbed out, I was drained but proud. 10.9 km completed. The hardest part still to come.

Day 3 – 5 October: The Marathon Swim (11 km)

They call this the marathon day for a reason. Eleven kilometres of open sea. No hiding, no shortcuts.

I stuck to my usual pre-race breakfast, porridge, a protein drink, and a bit of Nutella on pancakes. Then it was time. The sea looked endless that morning.

The first few kilometres were fine, but the weather changed quickly. Grey clouds rolled in, the water cooled, and my shoulders burned. At around 4 km the distance on my watch seemed to creep. I kept telling myself to stay calm and keep form. I swam past an overturned, abandoned tanker, silent and rusting, half submerged against the stark coastline. It felt otherworldly, a reminder of how raw and remote this place was.

At approximately 7 km we were directed into a Cold War era submarine tunnel. Inside, the water was still and the light almost gone. We turned in the darkness before heading back out to the open sea. The contrast between the black, echoing tunnel and the grey, choppy water outside was surreal.

For over an hour I swam alone, seeing no one but the cliffs and the occasional buoy. It was the loneliest part of the whole event, but also the most powerful. I realised how much swimming mirrors life; sometimes you just have to keep going, one stroke at a time, even when the end feels far away.

I finished that day with a sprint against Clement, a French swimmer I had met earlier in the week. I just edged him at the line. It was not about beating anyone, it was about proving to myself that I still had something left. One day to go.

Day 4 – 6 October: The Final Swim (5 km + 200 m)

The last day. Just five kilometres left between me and the finish line. My arms were heavy, but my head was clear.

I started fast, keeping up with the lead group, and for a while everything clicked. Then I felt it, my wetsuit arms filling with water. It was like swimming with weights. I tore them off mid-race and handed them to a canoeist. The relief was instant.

As I came around the final turn, I could see the bright pink inflatable arch marking the finish. The crowd was cheering. 400 metres. 300. 200.

When I finally crossed that line, it hit me, I’d actually done it. 33.3 kilometres of open water. Ten hours and eighteen minutes of swimming.

Emotion flooded in. I thought of my mum and dad, who took me to my first swimming gala when I was 11. They would’ve been so proud. I thought of the Horizon team cheering from home, and my family’s messages that kept me going when it got tough.

This wasn’t just a swim. It was a lifetime of lessons rolled into one challenge.

What I Learned

• You can achieve far more than you think.
• Consistent effort and belief pay off.
• Mental resilience is just as important as physical endurance.
• Shared challenges create deep bonds.
• The strength you build through swimming carries into every part of life.

A Reflection for Our Community

Finishing Ultra Swim 33.3 reminded me why swimming means so much to me. It’s not just about fitness, it’s about confidence, community, and courage.

At Horizon, we see those same values every day in our swim school and swimming programmes. Whether it’s a child learning to float for the first time or an adult rediscovering their confidence in the water, swimming changes lives.

It still surprises me that in our borough, so many children can’t swim, especially here on the south coast where the sea is part of our identity. That’s something we can and must change.

If my journey taught me anything, it’s that belief and practice make anything possible. And it starts with that first step, or that first stroke.

So to anyone reading this, get in the water. Join a class. Support your children in learning to swim. You never know where that first swim might take you.

Mike Lyons
CEO, Horizon Leisure Trust
Ultra Swim 33.3 Finisher, 26th Place Overall