Reflections Interview: Ruffo Paolini — On Grit, Family, and the Long River to UltraEbre

Interview by Ben Lane

If you ask Ruffo why he keeps returning to Spain’s UltraEbre—a 30 km river marathon south of Barcelona—he doesn’t start with splits or trophies. He talks about the people. The river. The feeling of being involved in a community that remembers your name and your stroke. He also talks, quite bluntly, about boredom: the lane-line grind that makes the big days possible. This season he couldn’t race— “a little start of a cancer,” he says with disarming understatement—but he’s swum UltraEbre three or four times in recent years (2021–2024), and he knows it well.

We sat down to talk training, tactics, and why the last ten kilometres are where UltraEbre really begins.

From Pool Kid to “One of Those Crazy Guys”

Ben Lane: For readers meeting you for the first time—who are you, and why do you swim?

Ruffo Paolini: I was a pool swimmer as a kid. Then I got bored, switched to water polo, later to triathlon. Injuries meant I couldn’t run anymore, so I went back to the water—and, because I like hard things, I went long. I started with 5 km, staring at the 10s and 20s thinking, I’ll never do that. Now I’m one of the crazy guys doing them. People think the amazing part is the 20 or 30 km race. It isn’t. The amazing part is going to the pool nearly every day, alone, up and down, up and down. That’s the work. The race is the cherry on top.

What Makes UltraEbre Different

Ruffo: UltraEbre isn’t a glamorous seaside spectacle. It’s a long, honest river swim. The towns that host it are quiet; the scenery is reeds, bridges, sky. That understatement hides a course with personality.

I’ve done it three, maybe four times—’21, ’22, ’23, ’24. Every year is different because of the river flow. My “best” was around six hours when it ran fast. But the number isn’t the point. UltraEbre is tough, and it feels like family. The organisers treat you like you belong there. You want to come back.

The Boring Stuff That Wins the Day

Ben: Let’s talk preparation. What’s your headline advice for swimmers eyeing their first river marathon?

Ruffo: Think in six-month blocks. If you’re newer to volume, start with 2–3 swims a week, then build to 5–6 in the final month. You don’t need single 20–30 km pool sessions. What you need is weekly volume that matches the race distance across the final two months—so, roughly 30 km per week if your race is 30 km. That’s the foundation.

Then add time-on-task: at least two sessions a week of two hours (sometimes 2.5) at a steady, honest pace. I don’t obsess about distance in those; I care that the body and brain learn what two, three, four hours feel like. Endurance is a feeling before it’s a number.

Ben: How do you deal with the nutritional aspects of a long swim?

Ruffo: Live properly. Don’t drink the day before. Eat well. And eat breakfast—a real one. I see people say, “I don’t eat in the morning.” This race can be five to nine hours. You need fuel in the tank, so load up (not crazy heavy, but substantial). That way you can feed less in the river and keep moving. I’ve watched swimmers park up for a sandwich while the clock runs and the pack glides by—that can be crushing. Keep feeds short and simple.

The UltraEbre Mindset: “The Race Starts at 20K”

Ben: How do you keep going when the body and brain start negotiating?

Ruffo: UltraEbre is tricky because the first 20 km can feel almost easy. You think, I’m flying; I’ve got this. That’s the trap. The last 10 km are the swim. You hit chop, tide, or just fatigue—suddenly you feel like you’re not moving. That’s when you must stay calm, keep form, and accept that progress is slow but real.

I’m a swimmer who likes to start fast, then slip into drafts as the field settles. That helps with pacing and energy. But in the last kilometers you’ll get passed—by someone who paced better or had more in the tank. It plays with your head. What keeps me going is simple: there’s no way out except the finish. You’ve done the lonely work in the pool; you don’t grab the kayak. You keep your line. Stroke, breathe, feed, repeat.

The first kilometers are mentally awkward too. You think: Why am I doing this? I could be on the sofa watching TV like my friends. Then you see the finish, hear the cheering, the medal and your brain flips to: What’s my next race? That’s UltraEbre. Tough, but you want more.

Practical Race Notes (from Someone Who’s Been There)

• Know the course personality. Expect help early and resistance late. Save something.
• Draft smart. Start decisively, then settle. Use company to control pace and effort.
• Keep feeds tight. Pre-plan fluids and quick calories you tolerate at race effort; avoid picnic stops.
• Hold your line when it gets slow. Everyone feels the glue near the end. Long, tidy strokes beat panic.
• Make peace with boredom. River landscapes can be minimalist. Build mental tools: count strokes, follow micro-goals between feeds, reset posture every 10–15 minutes.

Health, Perspective, and What’s Next

This year, Ruffo couldn’t race. “A small start of a cancer,” he says. It’s being dealt with, but the pause has brought clarity.

Ruffo: I’m nearly 60. You can’t ask everything from the body. Two to three ultras a year is already a big effort. UltraEbre will stay on my calendar if I can; it’s one I want to do every year. Before it, I like 10–15 km races—they sharpen you, get you used to packs and feeds. And I’m eyeing the sister events in France and Norway that sit under the same “Ultra” umbrella. Two or three big ones, done well—that’s a good season.

Why This Race Sticks

Ruffo: The delight is simple: you do the boring work; you show up; you tackle a river that’s never the same twice. And then, somewhere in the last 10 km—when it hurts and you swear, you’re not moving—you keep going anyway. That’s the part you carry home.

Ruffo is 58 years old and has a daughter of 8 years old. He lives in Brussels of Italian and Swiss nationality.