“My Feet Are Completely Fucked. I Didn’t Expect Them To Get This Infected And Mouldy.”

There’s something about feats of endurance that have always felt peripheral to me. As someone who prefers to sit beside a river than to run laps around it, these kinds of accomplishments strike me in a similar way cephalopod mating rituals do. Vaguely unsettling, biologically impressive, and probs best not to get directly involved in.

Blakey Johnston might as well be an octopus crammed into human skin, considering how utterly alien he is to most people. A modern-day Viking, a fortress of will with no concept of losing. Not just in his physical resemblance to Norsemen, but in how he moves through the world like it’s a series of obstacles to be plowed through.

After punishing himself with ten-hour sessions wrapped up in a 4/3 wetty, gloves, and booties at Sydney’s URBNSURF for fifteen straight days, he took two days off. Spent one motorbiking with his kid, the other snowboarding. 

Feet “completely fucked” — couldn’t even tie his boots. “I knew they’d get soggy, but not this infected and mouldy.” Despite his body nearing collapse, Blakey still reckons being a good dad is the real feat. “I had all this planned before the challenge,” he tells me over the phone, driving back from the snow. “The challenge matters, but being a good dad and husband matters more.”

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“I was already hurting the first hour of the first day,” admits Blakey. “I’m riding a wave every four minutes for 10 hours straight. I want to surf every wave properly, which means I’m always moving. It’s definitely taken a toll on my body. By the end of the day, it takes me 20 minutes just to peel the wetsuit off.”

Strangely, of the 15 days, the worst pain hit after day two, when for the first time in years, he skipped his usual 4 a.m. schedule — the barefoot 10km run followed by a dip in the ocean.

“I’ve got a pretty strict morning routine, and my body expects it now,” Blakey explains. “Missing that one morning, my body knew something was off. Since then, I’ve stuck to it — up at four, barefoot run, swim, then head to the pool.”

Though, in the name of survival, he’s shortened the run — from 10km to a less masochistic 2 or 3. But considering how many turns he’s banked, we’ll let that technicality slide.

“I’ve done 2,000 backhand snaps and 1,500 forehand carves already,” Blakey adds, gesturing to the Rip Curl GPS watch strapped to his wrist. “The numbers are cool. Not to prove anything to myself or to anyone else. I’m just curious about what my body can do.” Along with the ice on his wrist, Blake’s also had every wave tracked by Flowstate, the wavepool’s AI tracking system. Not in a creepy way, more in a stats-nerd, well-meaning surveillance sort of way.

Even the most dedicated three to the beach drone would wince at the idea of performing the same backhand snap 2,000 times over 15 days. Surely, the tub must get a little… mechanical?

“I thought it might get boring,” Blakey admits. “But you’re still falling off the same turn you’ve done 1,200 times that week. So it’s always a bit different, always exciting, and you can always try to improve. I have really shit surfs, some shit moments, don’t get me wrong, but it’s the people you meet out there that make it epic. Surfers from places like Strathfield and Penrith — just so stoked on surfing. That’s what keeps me going.”

This is Blakey’s third world record attempt, having recently put his boot through the longest surf ever and organised the world’s largest paddle-out. He’s quick to point out that comparing them is like comparing different types of suffering — both equally brutal in their own way. But he admits this one’s tougher than he expected.

“It’s been way harder than I thought, especially on the body,” he says with a manic giggle. “But I’ve learned to be in these situations from the other endurance stints I’ve done. You realise you’ve got a choice: lean into the pain cave or just focus on the good stuff. The body hurts more as you go, but you learn how to handle it when you’re always deliberately exposing yourself to hard stuff.”

“I want everyone to know that nobody is special,” Blakey finishes. “What I mean is, if I can do this, anyone can. We get too tied up in our jobs and who we think we are, but no one gives enough credit for how hard just existing is. But when you step outside of all that, when you really challenge yourself, that’s where you find the growth. That’s the medicine.”

Blakey’s message might be that nobody is special, and if that’s true, he’s doing a hell of a job pretending otherwise. A guy just as stoked to break a world record as he would be to watch someone else break his. Which, theoretically, you could — if you bought a Winter Warrior Pass to URBNSURF and had a month to kill.

15 days left. We’ll report back at the finish line, with the Viking surely having conquered new territory.