Three weeks until Two Way Windermere; two weeks to tapering (yay).

With only three weeks to go until Two Way Windermere I admit I was ready to start tapering. I was permanently tired, permanently hungry and some might say (although not to my face...) permanently grumpy. I had been training hard, and non-stop, and I was ready for a rest, and I wasn't talking the odd day, but a few consecutive days.

But before tapering could start I had one more week of training to go, starting with a 10k swim in the pool. And this was how crazy training had become, a steady 10k swim had become a normal swim for a Monday morning, which was crazy! This Monday was different though. Coach had sent me this week's training plan, which still included the 10k swim, but it would be all in sprint sets. I admit, I felt a little out of my confirm zone once again. It had been an age since I had done any type of lengthy, fast pace, and I was not looking forward to the whole lung combusting experience that would accompany it. Coach also asked that I wear a heart rate monitor during this week. I informed him that there would be no need because I could just tell him what it was, as I would most definitely be able to hear my heart pounding in my head, to which he told me he preferred a more accurate reading. He reminded me that he had seen what a cock up I could make from doing even the shortest of swims as basic counting skills up to the dizzying heights of four went out of the window... Heart rate monitor it was then!

Swim set done, and accurate heart rate recording completed, and despite it hurting - a lot, I really enjoyed it. One of the things that got me through was the thought of how lovely the following day would be. An actual rest day. Twenty-four whole hours that I planned to do absolutely sod all, apart from watch Killing Eve on catch up from my sofa, whilst eating lots of cake (carb loading obvs). This happy thought kept me going throughout the training swim, but it was very short lived because whilst I had been swimming Coach had sent me through a revised training plan that included another lengthy set of sprints sets for the following day - my rest day. I assumed he had made a mistake, however was reliably informed (by Coach) that it was just a slight change to the program and I would get my rest day... but not yet.

In addition to this, he had planned for me to do a four hour lake swim the day after that, which sadly ended up being three and a half, and this was the bit where I would like to gloss over the reason for this, but in short, there was a road closure, and I decided that I knew a far better, and quicker way there than the way the diversion signs said. This turned out to not be the case, and found myself not where I expected to be, which was several miles away from the lake! One panicked phone call to Coach for directions that would actually get me to the lake, and I was on my way again, albeit later than planned. I wouldn't mind but this was the first warm and sunny day I had had in all of the months I had been training there and was keen to enjoy the unusually summery conditions. Sod's law!

Once again I had packed a huge bag of food. There were still some foods that I hadn't yet, but was wanting to trial. I was keen to try some cheese spread seeing as though cheese and I were not compatible whilst I was horizontal. I had read that in terms of energy that fat gave more than twice as much as glycogen and carbohydrates, and wanted to include some in my feeding plan (1g of glycogen and carbohydrates provides 4 calories, whereas 1g of fat provides 9 calories when converting to energy), and just in case that didn't pan out so well, like the cheese and also one nasty protein bar, I had also packed some flapjack, Jaffa cakes (obvs), two bananas, and despite the lake being over twenty two degrees, a flask of hot Ribena... Just in case the heat wave decided to abruptly finish mid swim.

After the first hour I got out to eat some of the cheese spread sandwich. I didn't want to eat too much because if I was anything like the cheese, it wouldn't be long before I saw it again! At this point, Coach joined me in the lake for a catch up/lesson/advice/discussion. We swam for a short time whilst he checked my swimming, and then combined breaststroke with floating to talk about the plans for Windermere. I was glad about the little swimming part we did because I was experiencing a familiar nauseous feeling, and worried that if we began swimming at all I would throw up. Possibly over him, which would not only be the height of bad manners, but also very alarming!

I was pleased to see at the end of this very slow lap that Shark had arrived - also later than she planned. She too had gone the wrong way at the diversion, and driven on several country roads, missing her planned pre-swim mid afternoon snack, and knowing I would have over packed as usual on the food front, was riffling through my bag for something. I offered her the remainder of the now obsolete cheese spread sandwich, which she ate, along with some flapjack and a banana. I was used to her helping herself, and I really didn't mind. The only food I was exceptionable protective of, and would probably resort to snatching back, was my beloved Jaffa Cakes, but I knew that she didn't like them (this was why we were such good friends. No danger of her expecting me to share them...). I reminded her as she tucked into some biscuits, that we were having post swim chips on the way home, but she informed me that as she would be swimming in skins she would be burning off all of the calories consumed out of my cool bag, and therefore deserved the sandwich, the flapjack, the banana and the biscuits as well as the chips!

Shark and I swam for another hour, only stopping twice as I tried to hold down the cheese spread sandwich whilst Shark waited for me... from a safe distance. I assumed that the reason she got out was because she had finished have swim rather than because she was worried about anything projectile happening. I didn't ask. I couldn't eat at my next stop - too risky, so swam on for another hour on my own alongside Stroppy Swan and lots and lots of Canadian Geese... I said alongside, what I meant was with a very large expanse of water between us, or what's also know as a respectable distance.

As soon as I was out, Coach and I had a further chat about tapering and what I would be doing the following week. This included one final pre-Windermere long sprint set swim set in the pool, and one five hour swim in the lake... a lot like this week really! I suddenly felt a mixture of emotions. On one hand I felt sad because after many, many hours circumnavigating that lake, I had ALMOST learned to relax a bit, despite the forty-seven pound resident pike, the Stroppy Swan, the wheel hub that frightened me every single time I swam past it (despite me knowing it was there) the lake snake (bit of rope on the bottom near the final buoy) and the scary, dark weedy bits! But on the other hand, I was also looking forward to some time where if I wasn't actually swimming, or thinking about swimming all of the time.

Respecting their personal space!

I had of course already planned what I will be doing with all of the spare time I would have because I wasn't swimming, or spending a lengthy amount of time in the shower with some industrial soap, scrubbing away at the chlorine, or hours untangling my hair. I would still go to the gym, but instead I would be in the sauna, or the jacuzzi, or the steam room or the cafe doing my 'tapering' there. Unfortunately though, I would also need to tidy my house, which has been in a sad state of neglect since probably February when my training increased. I told myself that there was more to life than cleaning, however the Monica in me was conflicted. I quickly decided that I wasn't all that excited about returning to 'normal' life, and began looking online for other swimming events that meant I was far too busy to be cleaning again!!!

As well as my blog, I have been busy writing for my new, yet with no title, book about my two way Windermere swim. I've also got more with the times and have been vlogging about my 2WW swim training, Here's the YouTube link.

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcGjwT2ZHjUVgSkvkjgy2Dg

Once again, thanks for reading, and if you have enjoyed my blog, my book Open Water Woman Swims Windermere is available in paperback and electronically on Amazon. 

Here's the link:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Open-Water-Woman-Swims-Windermere/dp/1980614660/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1546178539&sr=8-1&keywords=open+water+woman+swims+windermere

4 hour lake swim (finally) DONE!

After two failed attempts at a four hour swim - the first, lasted only three long cold hours, before I called it a day and retreated to the warm showers, and my second was cut short (by two hours), thanks to my wetsuit, which for some unknown reason (I say unknown, but in reality, it could be thanks to my newly acquired fat neck that has appeared due to the excessive ‘carbing up’ I had been doing recently) had started to rub really badly on my neck, causing discomfort not dissimilar to that of how I imagine it to feel if a blunt razor were being run across it continuously for… let’s say two hours, anyway, I digress - I desperately needed to get this elusive four hour open water swim done in order to stay on track with my training plan, and today was going to be that day…

Leon (SwimYourSwim) had very kindly offered to support me, and in return to say thanks, I gave him one of my legendary sugar free cup-cakes. I didn’t reveal to him that it was sugar free, but I also bought him a huge cup of tea to help wash it down, and believe me, he was going to need every single drop of it! I had also packed one for myself in my massive food supply bag, but I knew that it was unlikely that I would eat it. Not on the back of the fact that I had so many other food to eat, but basically, because was horrid! 

We agreed to meet at three, and even I could work out that swimming until eight was actually five hours, however Leon, who clearly knew me far too well, told me he had added extra time for “faffing about” and “talking the hind legs off a donkey.” I would have been rather indignant at that, but he did have a point. That was exactly what I did, and forty-five minutes after I arrived, I finally got in (I would like to add here that Leon was fifty percent responsible for the talking side of things, and probably only ten of that was discussing strategy, food stops, and very important swimming stuff. The rest was spent discussing the merits of sugar free cupcakes (and as far as Leon knew, this was just a normal random conversation, rather than because he was eating one). This took us some time as we were struggling between us to find any to be honest, hence the length of time talking rather than swimming... 

As I got in, mindful of the many, many swans that lined the shoreline, it dawned on me that I would be the only swimmer in the lake for at least a couple of hours, which I admit made me very nervous. Leon reminded me that the only creatures in the lake were juvenile goldfish and a few sprats, and told me that the swans on this lake were absolutely NOT related to my nemesis swan at Windermere, and also that if I had a problem, he would be with me in the boat within a minute. I was marginally reassured, and knew that if I didn’t get into the lake soon, I would be in danger of not achieving four hours again. And this was absolutely not happening.

The first hour passed without incident, until I came in for my first feed. I was approaching the shoreline when I saw, very, very close up, the mother of all fishes. I was not sure who was more shocked, me or it, and in my haste to flee the scene, almost gave myself a hernia. A very inelegant, frantic exit followed, where I pretty much launched myself out of the lake at a hundred miles an hour. I was relieved that there was only Leon there. Leon oh, and several passers-by, who laughed at the commotion, whilst offering me no help whatsoever in my hour of need. I insisted on explaining to Leon, as I wolfed down my snack, how the fish looked, including length, markings, size of mouth, and deduced from my own extensive research, that it was definitely either a giant catfish or a crocodile. After an elaborate eye roll, Leon assured me that it was neither, and informed me that if it was a giant catfish it would be unlikely that there would be any birds on the lake, and probably not a lot in it either. I had read (to keep my research of aquatic livestock right up to date) that giant catfish had, in the past, been known to attack humans, but Leon also told me that for this to actually happen in the first place you had to be in the same lake as one, and also very unlucky… and as for it being a crocodile? He was ruling that out too based on the absence of any legs. He told me it was most definitely a pike I had seen, and after weighing up my odds, and as much as I was terrified of pike (and absolutely everything else in the water), I decided that I would much rather take my chances with the pike than the other two (and I really cannot believe I said that)!

As I set off again, I noticed that there were many swans on the lake, which on one hand put my mind at rest regarding the absence of any giant catfish, however despite feeling grateful to see them, was still very cautious around them and decided to continue to avoid any eye contact or do anything that they may consider confrontational (apart from being in the lake in the first place that was… ) but I did have a swim to complete, so I decided that I would avoid swimming anywhere near where they were, which meant going a little off course more than once when I had to swim around the inside of one of the buoys that the swans seemed intent on flocking to, and hovering around for no apparent reason whatsoever, aside from sheer devilment, I concluded. Going round the inside of a buoy was not illegal in any way, it was noticed though, and on my next stop Leon pointed out to me that there was no shortcuts when swimming Windermere… it was pretty much as the crow flies already, and although I told him I was not cutting corners to cheat, but rather because being at a swam beak height and all, I was at high risk of having my eyes pecked out, he countered that it would have been a valid one had I not been wearing goggles… 

I was swimming really well, I had found my rhythm, and felt relaxed (small wetsuit issue aside – not rubbing round the neck this time, but randomly under my right arm?!?). This was with the exception of one particular spot at the far end of the reservoir, at probably the furthest point away from Leon and the safety boat. This spot was where the rocks under the water just dropped away into what could only be described as an abyss. My overactive imagination had me believing that would be the exact point that if there was a megoladon in the lake, that was where it would appear, and so because of this, I decided that the best way to overcome these outlandish thoughts was to approach the aforementioned danger zone at my normal pace, and then swim like the clappers whilst doing heads up front crawl until I was in the deeper water. Heads up. Because If I were to be eaten by any such creature, then I’d rather be completely oblivious beforehand. Unfortunately it took me until I was on the thirteenth lap of thirteen to I realise that if I swam at a slightly different angle towards said area from the previous buoy, the water stayed too deep for me to see the bottom at all, thus avoiding the drop all together and an elevated heart and stroke rate… The only silver lining from this, was that Garmin informed me once I was out that I had broken the course record during this section of the lake thirteen times consecutively! 

The second hour also went without incident, if you excluded the ‘seeing a twig and swimming away from it at world record breaking speed’ episode and then once again as I was getting out to have some food, I once again saw a humongous fish on the shoreline. To be honest, at first I did think it was a crocodile, as it was, well crocodile coloured, and once again nearly broke my neck trying to get away from it. Leon assured me that it was likely to be the same one as earlier, and there was nothing in the lake that would harm me. Leon had been known to lie before… Like when he told me there was only goldfish and sprats in the lake, for example…   

I was onto my last food stop, and decided to treat myself to the sugar free cupcake I had been thinking about none stop since I got in (not really) that I had packed myself as a special treat. Usually when I bake at home, everything would have been eaten within minutes and never made it to the lakeside, however these delicious and highly nutritious pieces of gourmet heaven had not been all that popular, and there were many, many left still at home. As I tucked into it, cupcake in one hand, large bottle of water to swill it down with in the other, as I expected it just crumbled and went everywhere. Most of it ending up on the floor, rather than in my mouth, which in itself was hard to miss, but miss I did. I didn’t want to leave the crumbs on the floor, as I was aware that the birds would eat anything, and from a purely environmental point of view, my cake was not good for them, or the lake, or indeed any human I feared, and after collecting up any larger bits, there were only (a million) tiny bits left.

Finally, I was onto the last lap, and as I finally came around the last buoy, many, many swans took to the air (fine by me), and in formation (can you call them a skein of swans)? I stopped for a few seconds to admire the view. In the air they were quite something, and then they, all gazillion of them, landed at the exit to the lake. I initially was quite touched as I thought this was to welcome me back after completing my four hour swim, but unfortunately it wasn’t. They were actually headed to where I spilt the crumbs, which meant, because there was absolutely no way I was going to get out of the lake into the middle of some swans feeding - even if it was on nasty cake crumbs, to get out (which incidentally, it looked like they couldn’t get enough of), which meant that I needed to swim an extra (small) loop whilst I waited for them to finish, Suffice to say, that by the time I had got out, I had decided that there was no way that sugar free cupcakes would even make the short list for Windermere, on account that whilst to humans they tasted awful, the swans couldn't get enough, and there was no way I was encouraging anything to be near me in the water, and the extra bit of swimming added on a few extra seconds to my swim taking it up 4:01:24… and whilst I wouldn’t say this exceeded my time, it was four hours (finally) DONE! 

One last note, you can also follow my progress on YouTube, where I do a vlog, and I post (usually) daily updates on Twitter, Instagram and on my Facebook page Open Water Woman. And for those of you that would like to read more about my Windermere one way swim in 2017, my book Open Water Woman Swims Windermere is available on Amazon.

Here are the links:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcGjwT2ZHjUVgSkvkjgy2Dg

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Open-Water-Woman-Swims-Windermere/dp/1980614660/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1546178539&sr=8-1&keywords=open+water+woman+swims+windermere

First open water mile of the year - Done!

Every week for the last month I had planned to swim a mile in the open water, and every week for the last month, for one reason or another, I still hadn’t managed it. I was all too aware that the six hour qualifying swim Coach had entered me for was coming up in a matter of weeks, and what little time I actually had spent in the open water swimming so far, was not enough, to put my mind at rest, that I would manage to stay in anywhere near as long as I needed to (I had planned on four hours). Regardless of any reasons why I hadn't achieved any great distance, or time in the open water so far, Coach told me it was really important to swim the qualifier as part of my training plan. Basically, I would be swimming. He also warned me in advance that excuses I may think of coming up with to not do it, like an inland lake sea fret, freshwater shark sighting or a bad CBA attitude were not going to be accepted! As if I would think of any so far in advance, I've just never been that organised!

As fortune had it, the forecast today (and the whole weekend as it went) was hot, hot, hot! The sun was out, and the water temperature was improving. I did have some very high hopes of it reaching tropical temperatures in time for my swim, but unfortunately wishful thinking alone did not help to elevate the temperatures into the twenties, it was a good way off at 12.1oc. Nonetheless, it was a good 2oc warmer than last week. It was warming nicely, which at this rate, by my calculation, meant by the time the qualifying swim came around, I probably would be better dressed in a bikini rather than a wetsuit. I would have everything crossed for this to actually be the case. As this unfortunately wasn't the case today, I opted to wear everything I could to give me some extra insulation, including rash vest and socks, because after a chat with Leon (SYS), it was decided that I really needed to be staying in the lake and swimming for a full hour, and would benefit from the bit of extra insulation they would offer... which also happened to take forever to get everything on, so at least doing a longer swim would make all the effort worth while.

I asked Leon to not let me out before the hour was up unless I was either showing sign of hypothermia, or he saw me approaching the shoreline at neck breaking speed, which was the sign that I was being pursued by a huge shoal of giant limb eating fish, or my nemesis swan, and in either case, he was not only to let me out (and quickly), but he was to actually throw himself in the path of the pursuing wildlife, selflessly sparing his own life for me, if it came to it. 

The swim wasn’t about speed, it was about time spent in the water, and so had planned to swim very much at a more stately pace than usual around the larger lap (800m), which was open for the first time this year. I admit I was feeling a little nervous. Don’t get me wrong, I was perfectly capable of swimming the distance, but as of yet hadn’t actually swam more than 1,000m in the lake this year due to the lower water temperatures (and partly due to an over active imagination), and I’ll be honest, the thought of swimming round the large lap on my own, despite the several other swimmers already being in, was worrying me. Not from a safety point of view, as I could see the several spotters on the side, and the safety boat was on the water, but more because there was some debris on and in the water from the recent rain, and usually I would be swimming with my swim buddy Shark – really, really closely, and she usually calmed me down during swims where I may encounter objects during our swims, and if there was an actual real fish of any significant size (by which I mean bigger than a finger nail), Shark would too swim at neck breaking speed to get away. If she did this, that was my cue, and I was right with her, or slightly ahead, if she wasn’t too fast in her getaway! Unfortunately, Shark was unable to make it today, as she had (yet another) prior engagement that was happening between 8 and 10 on a Saturday morning, the exact same time that the lake was open for swimming…  I called B.S, and told her that I thought it was all very coincidental that when I’ve asked her to come to the lake (every Saturday morning since February), her diary happened to be busier than our Prime Ministers. Whilst she claimed this was sheer fluke, she assured me that her diary would definitely be much quieter once the water temperature started with a number 2 and was in double figures…

It was unusual for me to get in without something happening. Getting in usually involved endless faffing about, stubbing a toe, seeing a tadpole blocking my entry or tripping up (followed by falling in), but today I was unexpectedly seamless. I felt rather smug and set off on my first big loop of the year feeling hopeful that it would be incident free… and it was, and despite my hands being a bit chilly, I opted to do a second loop, followed by a third, and then a small lap. It was on the third lap that I had a small panic moment when I swam face first (obviously) into a brown leafy looking object, and in the frenzy that followed, managed to dislodge my goggles and swallow a nasty mouthful of cold water. Once I had repositioned them and calmed down, on closer inspection, the brown leafy looking object turned out to be an actual brown leaf. In my defence, it was huge and very close up, it was sort of fish shaped…

As I approached the shoreline, I felt quite jubilant, because despite the leaf incident, the upshot was that I had swam 3 big loops and 1 small one, without my swim buddy, and without needing to use the safety boat. I’d like to add here, in the interest of honesty, I noticed that the safety boat did suddenly appear in the very near vicinity mid leaf attack, but obviously realised I wasn’t in any immediate danger from it, and left me to it, for which I was quite grateful really. I’d have felt like a bit of a berk if I’d been rescued! Anyhow, I did indeed swim a mile and some, in fact I swam a total of 2,706 metres in a time of 58 minutes and 24 seconds, and although Leon didn’t check on how long I had been in, I took the liberty of rounding it up to an hour regardless.

The lake at Hatfield looking its best

My elevated spirits lasted right up until I got into the shower. I felt less elevated when the warm water hit my neck and I realised that a lot of my neck and jaw were very sore and very, very red, and all thanks to my wetsuit, because although I had prepared for the cold, I hadn't prepared for my wetsuit to rub (This was not a new thing for me. Happened a lot). For some unknown reason I hadn't put on some essential Glide, which some, and I include myself in this, may consider a rookie error, and completely stupid, because as a result of it, now I would need to spend the rest of this scorching hot weekend wearing a scarf, to cover up the marks that could so easily be mistaken for something else…

First open water mile of the year... or not, as the case was!

The plan? To swim my first open water mile of the year, and then eat a mountain of cake to celebrate. Unfortunately, when I got to the lake, I wasn’t sure whether I would even be swimming one stroke. It was surrounded by thick fog, and for safety reasons we were not allowed in until it had lifted enough for the safety crew to be able to actually see us. Now I am not a fog expert, but I was not confident that it would be happening any time soon, and I admit I was tempted to call it a day even before I’d put my toe in the water, rather than wait it out, especially since the water temperature hadn’t made the gains this week that I would have liked, and instead of the double figures I had hoped for, it had instead dropped since last week. I say dropped, I would have preferred the term 'plummeted' but I was told that the point six of a degree colder temperature could not be considered to have ‘plummeted’ at all. It certainly felt a lot, lot colder. Added to my misery, the fog made it feel really miserable. Having said that, I had driven for an hour, in said thick fog to get there, and so decided to wait it out with the other swimmers… in the warmth of the café.

One of the best things about open water swimming, has always been for me, the amazing people that come with it. These people that I was sitting with waiting to get in the water, have over the years undressed me (just out of my wetsuit, to be clear), picked me up from the shoreline after some quite spectacularly non-elegant exits, re-dressed me, fed me, made me cake (I do always feel obliged to pass it round of course, but not before making sure I have had the lion’s share first), and at the moment, as I made the decision to give up chocolate for Lent, which by the way may have been one of my most stupidest ideas (but much to my surprise and delight, I was succeeding it, even if it was by the skin of my teeth)! Bake Off Chris had really been pulling the baking out of the bag, and coming up with some non-chocolate variations, which I’m afraid might have meant that the sales of cocoa nibs be temporarily in decline on the back of this! They have bought me coffee, cheered me on and unceremoniously zipped me into my wetsuit, using some much needed brute force at times, as it really had recently become quite the mammoth task! I did think, in my defence, that it had definitely shrunk over the winter. It was safe to say that these people have seen me at my worst! These same amazing people are the ones that also keep me safe in the water, and today was no exception. 

As I said, I am not a fog expert, which definitely showed, because when I emerged from the café a short time later, I still expected visibility to be bad, and although I wouldn’t say it had lifted, I could easily see the far side of the course, and there were swimmers getting into the lake. Who knew? I was about to call it a day and just head for the pool and it’s twenty eight degree water and fog-less air quality…

I have discovered that I am not a swimmer that can just get into cold water and get on with the job in hand (actual swimming) quickly, and today was no exception. The fog had lifted enough for the safety crew at SwimYourSwim to deem it safe to swim in, so once I was suited and booted, I got in… slow and steady to avoid tripping and chipping my nail varnish, or worse face planting the water, which I knew from bitter experience, would be much to the amusement of my fellow swimmers. I also needed to take my time getting used to the temperature too, and this started with a lap of heads up breaststroke. Because I had my head up, I didn’t think there was any point in putting on my goggles, after all it was a lovely excuse (when the visibility was good) to take in the surroundings, by which I meant locating my nemesis swan, and any other above the water line (mostly feathered) lake residents nearby. It was good to be prepared for every eventuality, like finding yourself eye to eye with one of them, and knowing where they were meant I could locate my nearest exit point, and quickly – just in case! Heads up also meant I was completely oblivious to anything IN the water with me, which in a lake where there wasn’t actually anything in it that could eat me, or so Leon (SYS) had informed me, but he had told me a white lie before now – like the time he told me it wasn’t all that cold in the water and it was actually ****ing freezing, but was choosing, in this instance, to believe him, to avoid complete hysteria on my part! Heads up breast stroke without goggles was less lovely when I forgot I was goggle-less and put my face in the water. If I had remembered to put them on I would have avoided the eyeful of nasty cold water, and the subsequent mouthful of the stuff after that, but once I had pulled myself together (basically stopped spluttering) I began swimming really fast. Not really, it was another steady lap. I’m not entirely sure what the stroke was that I used, but it was kind of doggy-paddle/breast stroke combination lacking any style or form.

I became concerned half way round this second lap that the fog seemed to have worsened. I could still make out the safety boat, but the shoreline was difficult to see. I did feel a small amount of panic, and so took off my goggles to get my bearings, only to find that the fog hadn’t worsened at all, in fact, if anything it had lifted slightly, it was just that the inside of my goggles had also become foggy. Double fog if you like! Nothing that a bit of spit wouldn't sort (my own of course…). 

The last two laps were uneventful, which for me was a novelty, but it certainly didn’t stop me from being my usual vigilant, ready to exit the lake at neck breaking speed at the expense of anyone, or thing that got in my way, self and as much I would have liked to/should have swum on, my hands were really cold, and I wasn’t enjoying the conditions all that much, so decided to get out rather than risk hypothermia or the need to be rescued half way round because I wasn’t paying attention to the early signs. It wasn't the mile I had hoped for, but it felt like the right choice for me. 

Getting out sooner rather than later also meant that I would be able to secure a piece of the lovely looking cake that Bake Off Chris had made. I was glad I had made my timely exit, for if I had stayed in much longer I would have risked everyone else eating it all before I got to it. As it was there was already hardly any left, and so only felt like I could have a slither. There was just about enough to replenish SOME of my depleted sugar levels (after what was such a lengthy swim after all), with the delicious, but small slice of cake. In no time at all I had finished, and made my way back outside to the shoreline to say goodbye to everyone, and would you credit it? The fog had completely lifted, and the sun had come out, which was all rather lovely for those clever swimmers that had stayed in the cafe for longer... eating the lion's share of the cake! 

My 2019 open water season has begun in earnest ...

Thanks to my coach, who announced first thing on Monday morning, completely out of the blue, that he had booked me onto a six hour Channel qualifying swim at the beginning of May, I felt I needed to get back into the open water sooner, rather than later - despite the practically Baltic temperatures! I am not actually swimming the Channel, but I am swimming Windermere two way in August, so he thought it would be good to not only to do a long swim, but to also be able to practice feeding from the boat. I was sceptical about it being a good idea, on the back of the temperature, but eventually, after the promise of coffee and a large slice of ‘recovery’ chocolate cake afterwards, I agreed. This meant though that if I was to have any chance of staying in for at least some of the six hours, I really needed to get back into the lake straight away to habituate, and as there was no time like the present, decided to swim that same weekend. 

By the end of the week though, I was seriously regretting the decision that I’d made to do it, because unfortunately as the week progressed, it became clear that the 'uncharacteristically higher than the norm temperatures for this time of year' that we had had for the previous two weeks were not destined to continue, and the predicted forecast on the day of my swim was winds of up to forty miles an hour combined with a lot of vertical rain! Very non-tropical, and not one bit like the weather I had hoped for, or indeed had recently become accustomed to. This change back to the more seasonal temperatures that March brought, made me wonder if it was worth hanging fire until the temperatures were at least in double figures before I braved it, and if I was being honest, I would prefer to hold out for it being somewhere a little more Mediterranean, but that would probably mean waiting until the twelfth of never…

So, I dug out my wetsuit and open water kit bag, and I won’t lie, it was a struggle to remember what I actually needed to pack for the swim, other than the new goggles I'd purchased especially (well it was a special occasion after all)! Thankfully swim bud (Shark) sent me a list that included: wetsuit, hot water bottle, bobble hat, swim socks, swim cap, Swimzi, flask, ear plugs, bucket, tons of clothes and a towel. I noted that she deliberately left off the nasty non-Crocs that I knew she had a lack of love for, but I smuggled them in anyway, knowing that there was a good chance that she would find them and probably try and hide them somewhere, like the bin for example, as my previous arguments in favour of the nasty non-Crocs being an essential part of my kit (regardless of being horrid), fell on deaf ears. She remained absolute in her dislike. Despite the comprehensive list, I was still worried that I hadn’t packed enough. I had been hypothermic before and knew the importance of getting warm again (the right way) after the swim, and so I packed several extra layers, a silver blanket and some hand warmers. I was, in my youth, a Girl Guide, and that “be prepared’ ethos drummed into us all back then, was finally standing me in good stead, even though it put the car’s suspension under some considerable stress! It was a good job really that Shark only came along to hold my towel, demonstrate her David Bailey skills and cheer me on with encouraging words like “put your back into it…” rather than swimming herself, because you could forgive me for thinking that I was including a week long holiday at the same time, I had left no swimming eventuality uncovered, leaving absolutely no room whatsoever for anything else.

I don’t mind admitting, I felt more than a little apprehensive on the drive to the lake, partly because it had been a while since I was last in, but mostly because although I’d packed my wetsuit to wear, I wasn’t entirely convinced that I would be able to fit into it after spending the winter months practically living in the pool which, thanks to the extra practice, had left my shoulders much bulkier than they were last year, and although this meant that they would be stronger, and more able to get me through my long swim (still can’t manage to do one single solitary press up though, despite my very best efforts), but the downside would be that the likelihood of me fitting into my wetsuit were slim at best, but as skins was absolutely not an option, it had the possibility to be the shortest trip ever without so much as me even putting a toe in the water! I explained my fears to Shark, but I needn’t have worried. She was nothing if not determined, and I knew how she loved a challenge. Let’s just say that after a lot of heavy handedness and a knee in my back, I was in. I’ll admit it was very, very snug, but I was in! 

The lake water was a non-tropical six and a half degrees Celsius, and the rain and wind also meant it was quite choppy. Thankfully, just as I got in, the sun found a gap in the clouds for the very short time I was in the water, which made the cold feel a little more bearable. I decided that on this occasion that I would break my modus operandi, and rather than the usual faffing about getting in, I would get suited and booted in the club house and once I was shoreside I would march in as quickly (and safely) as I could manage without injury (or elegance as it turned out). I won’t lie, I did not follow the suggestion to let some water into my wetsuit (to help with insulation) that I learnt at my induction several years ago now, there was just no way that I was opening the top of my wetsuit to let even a fluid dram of the very cold water in, NOT that there was much room to do this in the first place, on account that there was barely enough breathing space as it was, let alone room for spare (very cold) water. The marching in bit could have gone a lot better, I won't lie. I lost my footing a little bit, but managed to stay on my feet. It did result in a couple of colourful words leaving my mouth, but I think I managed to style it out, and no-one laughed (that I heard anyway).

Once I was off and had finally caught my breath I settled into a more even breathing pattern and began swimming heads up breast stroke. Breast stroke for two reasons, firstly because it was really cold; it was the best way to avoid the inevitable and uncomfortable ice-cream head, and secondly because if I’d seen even one fish/tadpole/leaf I know I would have panicked. A lot. And that would have cut short an already really short swim. To be honest, there could have been a shoal of sharks next to me, and I would have been completely oblivious, and I began thinking that this heads up swimming was definitely something to consider as the way forwards for me, solely on the back of that! The last lap I swam front crawl. This was not because I was feeling more confident, but rather instead because I panicked a little at the bottom end of the lake, and then noticed that there were several other swimmers ahead of me, so I figured that if I caught them up (front crawl being the fastest way), any hungry fish that I had convinced myself were in the lake, that were looking for lunch, would be less likely to have a nibble of me if the pickings were rich! 

I wasn’t in the water for very long, but it was long enough to remind me of all of the reasons why I love swimming in open water. I felt invigorated and energetic … and hungry! The very lovely Bake Off Chris, to give him his full title (part of my swim famalam, who is never allowed to not swim there, obviously because he is a great guy, a great swimmer and an all- round good egg, and absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with his amazing baking skills) had made some chocolate brownies, which he informed me he’d made to celebrate me coming back to the lake because he realised that it was too short notice to be able to book a marching band or organise a fly-over in time. This was such a lovely thought, but unfortunately, I had given up chocolate for Lent! If I had known he was baking I would have hinted very heavily that I really liked lemon drizzle cake. All was not lost though, and as I was not above such things, took four of them home with me to freeze for after Easter!

I admit that I was quite apprehensive about getting back into the lake, I’ll also admit that it may not have been entirely just down to getting back into the cold water that made me so …  and whilst it wasn’t the longest of swims, it was a lovely reminder of how much I love being in the open water, how much I have missed my swim famalam and unfortunately how much I really, really need to get myself a new, and better fitted, wetsuit!

One last note, you can also follow my progress on YouTube, where I do a vlog, and I post (usually) daily updates. You can also find me on Twitter, Instagram and on my Facebook page, Open Water Woman, and for those of you that would like to read more about my Windermere one way swim in 2017, my book Open Water Woman Swims Windermere is available on Amazon.

Here are the links:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcGjwT2ZHjUVgSkvkjgy2Dg

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Open-Water-Woman-Swims-Windermere/dp/1980614660/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1546178539&sr=8-1&keywords=open+water+woman+swims+windermere

IISA G.B Championships

Today saw Swim buddy Shark and I head to Swimyourswim at Hatfield, who were hosting the International Ice Swimming Association (IISA) G.B Championships. Not because we were swimming, hell no! But because Shark had volunteered our services to help. I am under no illusion that they snapped our hand off because Shark is a nurse, as I have no real skills suitable for such occasions, except perhaps that I am excellent at cheering (loudly as it happened). My dad used to refer me to as Foghorn Leghorn as a child, and I knew that one day this ‘skill’ would come in really handy! Today I felt sure would be that day.

By the time we had arrived to a very sunny Hatfield. The swimming was well under way, and all of the important jobs had been delegated. As this was the case Shark and I decided to give ourselves the unofficial role of cheerleaders. We also decided that this would only include the cheering part of the job, and not the acrobatic part, on account of the fact that we didn't have a decent pair of knees between us, and my left elbow clicked quite badly when put under undue stress (some certain cheerleading stunts, like for example, lifting Shark above my head, would cause this to happen), however before any of this could happen we decided it best to prioritise, and by this I mean going to the club house and buying some raffle tickets (damn, the prizes were good), getting myself one of the IISA swim caps, which I shall be shamelessly wearing to the pool, despite not earning the right to, and of course some coffee. 

It was great to see so many people supporting the event, and was lovely to catch up with some of my swim family again after what must feel like a lifetime since they saw me last (although they didn’t appear to be worse for wear for the lack of seeing me). One of which was Deb (and the lovely Mary), who instead of swimming as I had expected her to be, was stood on the side watching. She was nursing a cold, which meant she wasn’t fit to swim. Whilst we were there she told us how disappointed she was not to be competing, and shared with us of her experiences from last year. I have to say that she was so compelling and enthusiastic that both Shark and I decided there and then, on the back of it, that we would enter next year’s event. Only the very shortest distance mind…

Lakeside and ready for some cheering!

We watched the swimmers in awe (from the side whilst nursing our hot drinks), they were really something else, despite being exposed to water temperatures as low as the five degree Celsius, which incidentally was proper cold, I know, I stuck my finger in to check, they were ploughing through the water with hardly a ripple. You’d be forgiven for thinking it was a lot warmer, they made it look so easy. 

Yep, really cold.

After lunch, the sun disappeared for a bit, and in the cold light of day I’ll be honest, the reality of our earlier enthusiasm had waned somewhat, and I remembered that I suffer really badly from ice cream headaches when swimming in cold water. I also remembered that had one toe that when cold showed signs of Raynaud’s Syndrome and I also remembered several other very good reasons why I really ought not swim after all next year, and on the back of this we agreed, despite Shark having no legitimate reason not to, to downgrade our next year’s visit to just turning up to cheer again, after all, best to stick to something you’re good at, right? 

The IISA was such a well organised, great event for the very bravest of swimmers, who I’m sending tons and tons of Kudos to. I’m not actually sure what Kudos is, but I’m told it’s good to give it to people that achieve great things. Shark and I had a blast cheering (very loudly) the swimmers on, and catching up with our swim family and other both national and international swimmers, and even though I didn’t win a single thing on the raffle (which I am a bit bitter about, as I had my eye on one of the kit bags), I had a truly great day. 

Once again, thanks for reading, and if you have enjoyed my blog, my book Open Water Woman Swims Windermere is available in paperback and electronically on Amazon. 

Here's the link:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Open-Water-Woman-Swims-Windermere/dp/1980614660/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1546178539&sr=8-1&keywords=open+water+woman+swims+windermere

  

Also you can find me on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook for more regular shenanigans

 @Openwaterwoman_

Open Water Woman

Unexpected plans for a Windermere 2 Way swim...

Soooo…. I went and got myself a swim coach. This was not because I suddenly had a burning desire to give Keri – anne Payne a run for her, olympic medal, money and nor was it because I have had a mid-life crisis (like a certain nameless someone, that will now be light on the Christmas present front this year, suggested), but instead it’s because I made a friend a promise that I had no intention of breaking. 

Let me explain. In September this year I lost my best friend to cancer. During her last couple of months the most amazing team at St Michael’s Hospice in Harrogate cared her for. It was during these last few weeks that she asked me if I would be able to raise some money for this wonderful place, on her behalf, by way of a thank you… and then pointed out that there was no way I would be able to say no on the grounds that it was her wish and I would look really, really bad if I refused. We put our heads together, and after mulling over my suggestion of a sponsored silence (something I pointed out that I would find very, very difficult indeed), she concluded that people would not part with their hard earned money for anything less than blood, sweat and tears, none of which could be procured by not talking for several hours. Instead she gave me two choices, either I should swim Windermere two way (despite me telling her of the many, many hours of training involved, which she countered with the many, many opportunities to eat guilt free cake afterwards- and that in itself is an excellent and valid argument for), which she also thought would be the most likely thing to raise several millions of pounds for the charity or, her other rather outlandish and frankly maverick choice, which was of me abseiling down somewhere exceptionally high. She knew of my lack of fondness for anything higher than zero altitude (high heels make me dizzy for crying out loud), I declared myself acrophobic and therefore probably medically unfit for this particular challenge. And so, on the back of this, the exceptionally long (twenty one mile), swim it was to be then… 

But here’s the thing; choosing the swim bit was easy, what would be less easy was the actual swimming part and the many, many hours of training involved, oh and the quite important part that I have never swum anywhere remotely near this distance before and had no idea how to go about doing it. It’s such a long way, twenty one miles as the accurate swimmer will tell you, however I am yet to swim in a straight line anywhere, and so am not very confident that on this occasion I will swim ONLY twenty one miles, but more importantly than a few extra metres was the fact that if I got the training part wrong, there would be a risk that I wouldn’t finish it at all. 

Last year, when I was talked into swimming Windermere one way (Shark was very persuasive. She knows I have a weakness for Jaffa Cakes, all cakes in fact, except nasty coffee cake. That is a waste of good coffee. She played on the ‘you’ll be able to eat mountains of them after training’ and that’s what sold it to me). I signed up to do it expecting there to be loads and loads of training plans online to help me, however when I began searching for a suitable one (there are definitely plans out there I’m sure), I couldn’t find one that suited me, and ten and a half miles was too long to think about winging it. After my fruitless search online, I decided to ask some seasoned Windermere swimmers, Channel swimmers and the guys at Swim Your Swim (my swim family) for some advice/suggestions/the breadth of their expertise (don’t know why I didn’t just start there in the first place really?!?), and on the back of this, put my own plan together. Now it was by no means perfect, and I won’t lie, my cobbled together training plan was not based on any experience, but mostly from adding together the suggestions I was given and hoped that I would be successful. The plan may well have had me doing too many, longer than was probably necessary, swims as the ‘have I done enough?’ panic set in, and there were also times when I really wasn’t in the mood for a swim, of any length, which I think is normal of most of us, but I didn’t have the luxury of not swimming, after all, I was following a plan. There were occasions when Shark and I (mostly Shark obviously, because I am not one bit scared of things found in a lake like: a twig, some pond weed, my own arm, my wetsuit cord or aquatic livestock for example) were mid swim and we thought we had seen something moving in the water and needed to make an unexpected early exit, for fear of being chased or worse, eaten by whatever it was (I know…), cutting short our swim. On the plus side though, I read somewhere that sugar is really good for shock, and so on these occasions huge, and sometimes multiple slices of cake was used as the remedy. Purely for medicinal reasons.

It wasn’t all bad though, these times were mixed with some real highs though, like completing a training swim in a faster time than I was expecting, and with less aches and pains than I deserved, and discovering that Fat Rascals (Betty’s café’s finest) were successful at the pool food trials (unlike my beloved Jaffa Cakes, but lets not talk about that. It still upsets me). In fact, I enjoyed the nutritional side of training (it was probably all the cake, I’ll be honest) the most. I don’t include one particularly nasty gel that my insides decided very quickly that it would not be accepting this form of nutrition and rejected it almost as soon as it arrived at my stomach, in this.

Despite the highs and lows of the training. I (and Shark) did it! My training plan worked. I may have over done the cake trialing (all encouraged by Shark), and I did over-train at times, but nothing beat the feeling at the end of the swim when we got out of the water, despite it not being one bit like the Ursula Andress exit I had spent the last mile of the swim visualizing, and instead being every bit as clumsy as I have come to expect from myself, and despite the acquired battle scars: A nasty neck rash, bedraggled, knotted hair that required a surgical intervention to remove the bobble, and a very stiff neck, shoulders and arms, I had such an amazing sense of accomplishment! I had also absolutely no desire whatsoever of ever swimming that distance again… and yet here I was, with absolutely no intention of saying no to my friend, because at that moment I would have given her the Earth to see her smile.

And so I had agreed to do a very long swim, without it seems much thought into what it would entail. I was already, once again, in unknown territory with regards to training, and as it’s just too important not to fail, I decided that the only thing to sensibly do was to find someone that had some experience, and was happy to not only share it, but to tailor it too. After all, I’m no athlete, so I was worried that finding someone would be tricky, but it turned out to be actually easier that I thought. I have known Stu for a few years, but only as a fellow swimmer at one of the lakes I visit, and one of their coaches. It was at the beginning of this year’s open water summer season, when despite my best efforts I was struggling to pull out any decent swimming at all. My stroke was off, I didn’t feel smooth in the water and I was tense all the time. I suspect the tense bit was because I was unable to disconnect emotionally, whilst I was swimming, from everyday life, and I felt guilty for even thinking of doing something I enjoyed. Unfortunately, I had known for several months that my friend was desperately poorly, and despite my best efforts to put it out of my mind, this was definitely proving easier said than done. 

And then in stepped Stu. He saw I was disappointed, frustrated and at a loss as to how to change it. He offered me some great advice, encouraging words and some (frankly uncomfortable to watch), video footage of me swimming (badly). We watched it together and discussed what I needed to change and how to go about it, but most importantly, and I cannot tell you how grateful I am for this, he taught me how to use the swimming to support my own emotional wellbeing, rather than spending my time worrying and thinking about the inevitable things to come that I would have absolutely no control over. The things that were very much impacting on my swimming, both physically and enjoyment wise, but instead use swimming as a bit of respite as it were. And so on the back of this, I told him of the stupid promise I’d made to my friend (abseiling seems so much more appealing now), and asked if he would be able to coach me. Thankfully he agreed, with not even the need for gentle persuasion (I was prepared to part with beer, cash, concert tickets in exchange for a “yes”).

And so it began in earnest. I don’t mind sharing that I would have liked to have begun training after the New Year. This would have given me a couple of months of more relaxed swimming, after a full summer season of open water events. AND I might add, August, the planned month for the swim was months and months away, but Stu had very different ideas. There was no rolling start, no gentle beginnings, nothing remotely like that. No, the following morning he had e-mailed me a copy of the following week’s plan, by the end of which there wasn’t a part that didn’t ache when I moved. Even blinking seemed to hurt! I was beginning to wonder what had I let myself in for (and not for the first time)? This was pretty much the same distance as the Channel (but with no jelly fish, sharks, haddock, whelks, ships to contend with/wrestle), and that’s a really long way, and whilst I’ve been told there are none of the aforementioned in Windermere (apparently some evolutionary thing would have to happen first – not the ship bit though…), however here’s the thing, without properly training for it, there would be a risk that I’d risk not succeed. Suddenly I felt very grateful to have found myself a supportive and equally invested coach, even if I initially suspected he was trying to kill me with all the training, but my success in raising money for the charity actually depended on it. 

Going forwards, there was no doubt that there will be some difficult, and not to mention long, training sessions ahead, my body will hate me, tears will be shed and there are times when I will need to dig very deep. These are the times when I need to remind myself of the reason that I’m doing this in the first place, and whilst this is most definitely incentive enough, another thing that I need to remember (probably at all times) is that double the swim distance means double the food (basically, double the cake allowance, and I thought that the cake portions were huge before… cannot wait!). Stu has already informed me of the several thousand calories I shall burn off, which shall need to be replaced (hooray!!!). This is most definitely going to be, without question, my most favourite part (possibly the only part) of the training… as it was last time! 

As I said earlier, for next year's challenge, I will be raising money for the hospice that took such good care of my friend, and along with regular updates via blog, Twitter and the usual social media platforms (links below), I will also be documenting my progress and training each week on YouTube, which is actually terrifying! Here's the link below, and of course, one to my Just Giving page. 😊

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcGjwT2ZHjUVgSkvkjgy2Dg

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/jacqui-hargrave1

Once again, thanks for reading my blog. As I mentioned, last year I swam Windermere one way with my swim buddy, Shark, and this was actually where my blog began; diarising my journey. This journey is available to read in my book 'Open water Woman Swims Windermere' and is available in paperback, or electronically on Amazon. 

Here's the link:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Open-Water-Woman-Swims-Windermere/dp/1980614660/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1546178539&sr=8-1&keywords=open+water+woman+swims+windermere

  

 @Openwaterwoman_

Open Water Woman

When #greatbritishswim legend Ross Edgley meets Open Water Woman... in Margate!

I have followed Mr. Ross Edgley’s circumnavigation of Great Britain with great interest. Not that I will ever swim anywhere near that distance (*I may consider it if someone offered me a million pounds to do it, but not a penny less), however I do have a (significantly smaller) challenging swim of my own to complete next year, and for me it will be difficult, tiring, emotional and probably one of the best things I will ever do. As I said, my swim won’t be anywhere near as long – it’ll hopefully take me only a hundred and fifty seventh of the time that Ross took in total, but during that one day of swimming, despite my best training efforts, I am prepared for there to be some point where it hurts, in one way or another, and this is where Ross’s weekly vlogs have been invaluable. Watching him (and his team) come up against many possible setbacks, and overcome them has given me hope and inspiration that whatever my swim chucks at me, with resolve and resilience I will get there (and for the record, I do not include a shark sighting in this).

Several friends had also been following Ross’s progress, and asked me if I would ever consider doing anything as far. For a second I couldn’t think of a single reason why I wouldn’t, after all, Ross has showcased our coastline beautifully, and although very lengthy, it would be amazing I'm sure, however over the course of the next few minutes, I was able to think of many, including reasons such as: swimming in the dark – done it once, didn’t enjoy it. Was convinced that I was going to be eaten by something sinister. I lasted seven long minutes (there is a plus side I suppose, if your destiny were to be eaten alive whilst swimming, then if it’s dark then at least it would be a complete surprise)! Also, I draw the line at having to grow facial hair to prevent jellyfish stings. I pay good money to get rid of any as it is! And there are sharks in there – okay maybe not great whites, but large animals have been known to veer off their migratory paths before… take one Beluga whale that is currently residing in the Thames estuary…to name a few.

And because I think that his achievement is utterly amazing, when I found out that he was finishing his epic swim on Sunday the fourth of November in Margate I thought it worth driving the many, many miles to watch him finish, after all I felt that if someone had taken the time to swim for a hundred and fifty seven days, and inspired so many people, including myself, along the way, it was definitely worth going and giving him a cheer and possibly hand shake. I’d like to add that if I had friends in very high places, I’d probably be recommending knighthoods, marching bands, a bit of bunting, keys to the city, that kind of stuff, but as I don’t, a cheer would have to suffice!

I was planning to go anyway and then I heard, along the social grapevine, that three hundred people would have the opportunity to swim his very last mile with him. I was determined one of those three hundred would be me, and as soon as entries were open I applied, without much hope of getting the opportunity if I’m being honest, still I had no idea with my painfully slow typing speed, how I managed to secure a place to swim with him. It’s still a mystery!  I heard that places were scooped up in a matter of minutes, and although my hands are built for swimming (and therefore the size of shovels), they are not built for typing on small screens, however it turns out that I am far more dexterous, when under extreme pressure, than I gave myself credit for, and somehow managed to bag myself a place. Yay! 

As this was going to be a very special occasion, history making actually, I felt it important to make an extra special effort, and so on the back of getting a place, ordered myself some new goggles, some swim socks and had a pedicure (I know, I would have socks on… but I would know and that’s all that matters). Sadly my swim buddy, Shark was unable to come on account that she had a prior engagement on another beach somewhere nearer the southern hemisphere, and so swim squad buddy Richard drew the short straw (in so far as the very long journey to Margate with me in tow). I may have bribed him with the promise of food, but in all seriousness, I actually think it was my playlist choice that swung it. Despite us being completely different swim age categories; me being a child of the seventies, and him not, I was a little surprised he entered the spirit of the road trip so well! What better way to learn to love ABBA as much as I do than ten hours of back-to-back hits? 

On the day of the swim we arrived in sunny Margate in good time, which to be honest was a miracle in itself, as we were not five miles down the motorway before swim buddy had already ignored the instructions from the Satnav and took a wrong turn, meaning we had a small, but time costly, detour before we were able to get back on the motorway once again. On the back of this I declared myself the responsible adult in charge of directions going forwards, and although I have a small problem with my lefts and rights (not always sure which is which), I still felt we had a fighting chance of actually getting there, and as the swim was time sensitive, we couldn’t be late, and so I selflessly forfeited my planned nanna nap to make it happen.   

Me delivering a small "well done you did it" present from Olympic swimmer Liam Tancock 

Before we knew it, having sorted out the legal stuff (disclaimers), grabbed our swim caps, had the safety briefing and tried my first ever can of RedBull, we were shepherded down to the beach. The water was quite chilly, however my new swim socks made light work of the cold. I did a quick sweep of the immediate area for any predators and given there was so many swimmers in the water at one time, I felt confident that any starfish, jellyfish, mackerel, cockle or whelk would think twice about attacking such a large group of people, and as far as I could make out there had been no shark sightings in the area in recent history (I checked - thoroughly!). Just in case another Beluga whale or other large aquatic creature rocked up, lost or otherwise, I put myself very firmly in the middle of the group, but near enough to one of the safety jet skis to be able to windsprint over to it before anyone else (including my swim buddy – it’s a case of every swimmer for herself) should the occasion arise. As I said, the sea was quite chilly, and very calm for the first part. I used this distance to acclimatise to the cold and soak up the amazing atmosphere. I’m not sure how many metres out we were before quite suddenly it got a little choppier. Swim buddy checked on me at this point, and asked me if I was okay, and as I replied I managed to swallow one of several nasty mouthfuls of seawater. I took a second gulp when I enquired as to how many gulps it took before you got salt tongue “significantly more than two” I was told, along with the suggestion that I try to keep my mouth shut. 

We reached the buoy where we would be meeting Ross in no time at all. The atmosphere was indescribable, and as soon as he came into view my fellow swimmers and I began cheering and clapping (first time I’d ever tried treading water and clapping – not very successfully either I’ll be honest, and I swallowed another mouthful of water). At one point a couple began to start a song, and I really feared for them, as part of the welcome home party, I would be forced to join in or look like a bad sport otherwise. I have been known to belt out a tuneless song or two in my time worthy of making ears bleed and small children cry (this was also the case for most of the journey to Margate- as my long suffering swim buddy can vouch), and would not wish to inflict that level of uncomfortable on anyone, and now I was also suspicious that my swim buddy’s suggestion to keep my mouth shut was not entirely to prevent me from swallowing more water, after all, he had just about survived (although his ears were a livid shade of beetroot I noticed) a five hour ABBAthon!  

In what felt like no time at all Ross joined us to huge cheers and applause. It was a beautiful moment, and I felt quite teary. I blame the tears on the after effects of watching Watership Down the previous afternoon with my daughter – it always affects me for a day or so afterwards, and nothing to do with being overcome by this magical moment. Ross spent time welcoming, acknowledging, high fiving those with outstretched arms… Except me of course, because if anyone can cock up a simple high five, it’s me, and after three missed attempts between us, we both gave it up as a bad job on account that I was at serious risk of swallowing the North Sea in its entirety if we’d have carried on, also there are only so many daylight hours in these winter months, and loads more, better coordinated, swimmers were patiently waiting to congratulate him. I was at risk of holding up the proceedings. 

Great atmosphere

There were several swimmers there with their underwater cameras. One lady behind me was struggling to get a good shot. I’m not too sure how I thought it was going to end when I offered her a bit of a hoist up, so she could get a different (close up/birds eye?) angle, and I have no clue whether it turned out to be an award winning shot, but as I pushed her up it turns out that I am stronger than I gave myself credit for. On a slightly different thread, I’m pleased to say that finally those twice weekly, nasty weight sessions that I have been diligently doing have actually paid off. At this particular moment I’m not sure whether I am horrified at this or delighted, as I think I may well have pushed her straight on top our hero, whilst managing to dunk myself, and the man I grabbed whilst trying to save myself, under the water. I decided at this point it was probably best to flee the scene of the possible crime, after all, who wants to take the blame for maiming/injuring Ross with the finish line being so close? 

After several more minutes Ross finally swam past us all to continue his very last bit of the swim, with all of the swimmers behind him. I have to say that after a hundred and fifty seven days of swimming he was surprisingly speedy. I had expected a far more sedate and leisurely pace if I’m honest. If I’d realized how fast we would be going I’d have probably not had the large breakfast shortly before I got in. We cheered as Ross successfully exited the water without face planting the beach. Unfortunately when I got back to the shoreline I was less successful with my exit and spectacularly fell sideways. T’was an Oscar worthy performance (I fear that I will never be rid of the gazillion grains of sand in my hair)… Worth it though!

Once we were out and changed and fed - BTW – RedBull were excellent hosts. This was based entirely on the endless supply of delicious chilli. Seriously, if they ever feel like a change of career… I suggest a chain of chilli restaurants. It was so good - we headed back to the finish line where Ross was busy combining live interviews with talking to the crowd. I had been invited by RedBull into the ‘enclosure’ with Ross to have a photo taken (I’d done a Q&A session with them earlier in the week for an article). Swim buddy also managed to get in by telling them he was my Sherpa/body guard/chauffeur. To be fair, he was carrying my wetsuit and one of my several bags, after I faked a sore shoulder. I think he offered just to stop me moaning really! I wanted to ask Ross if he would sign my swim cap, which I planned (still do) to try and use as a fundraising tool. I wasn’t sure whether this was doable, as he was so busy, but before I began formulating a water tight plan to achieve this (possibly involving elbowing the BBC out of the way), however after no time at all I found myself right in front of him and seized the moment; all done and dusted in the blink of an eye, and without having to sharpen my elbows, and he even took the time for several hundred photos (simply because I just couldn’t get the right angle!), and a quick chat.

My signed cap (by Ross and Ant).

On the way home I reflected (whilst continuing the ABBAthon) on an amazing day, an amazing swim and an amazing man. What he has accomplished is simply astonishing. Ross is a testament to endurance, resilience, optimism and good old-fashioned grit and determination, and if I can learn just a fraction from his journey, then I know my (much shorter) swim challenge will be equally as successful... On the basis that there are no shark sightings and I can get it done and dusted before nightfall that is. Can’t wait!

Er, that's my pen...

With Ant Middleton

One of the 'wasn't quite ready' ones 

Once again, thanks for reading, and for those of you that enjoy my blogs, my book 

Open Water Woman Swims Windermere is available in paperback and electronically on Amazon. 

Here's the link:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Open-Water-Woman-Swims-Windermere/dp/1980614660/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1535300602&sr=8-1&keywords=open+water+woman

I also have a 'group' page on Facebook and am on Twitter and Instagram, where I post the shenanigans more regularly. If you'd like to join/follow you'd be very welcome. Here are the links. 😊

  

 @Openwaterwoman_

Open Water Woman

And finally, next year my challenge will be to swim Lake Windermere 2 way in memory of my best friend, Jane, who sadly died in September. I will be raising money for the hospice that took such good care of her. Along with regular updates via blog, Twitter and the usual, I will also be documenting my progress and training each week on YouTube. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ffSSIEHOBDM&t=23s