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

Buttermere Lake: a bit rough, a bit choppy and a bit chilly, but great fun (despite the bout of sea sickness mid swim).

I have been told that Buttermere is the loveliest place, and if I ever got the opportunity to swim there, I must. Sadly, because of the sea fret (or fog or mist or whatever you want to call it), the rain, and the frankly ‘a bit sh*t’ conditions, last week when we turned up to swim there, there was absolutely no way of knowing if it was beautiful, or not (return trip will be in order to check). What I did know though was that the lake was crystal clear, choppy, proper chilly (13oc) and if you squinted you could just about make out the far end of it. 

We have had an amazing run of sunny days this year, which sadly didn’t stretch as far as the day we had planned to swim in Buttermere. The conditions left me in no doubt that it was going to be a bit rough in parts, and despite considering myself a relatively competent open water swimmer, reminded myself that this does not make me immune from the possible dangers.

The swim was as expected: difficult, challenging, slow going, tiring and cold. I don’t mind sharing with you that I was sorely tempted to sit it out in the lovely, warm café instead drinking coffee, however I had driven three hours to get there (well Shark did, but I did contribute to the journey by being in charge of the Satnav, which is actually crucial to actually getting there seeing as that neither of us can read a map, or have any sense of direction. I managed it perfectly well with only one error, resulting in a ten minute addition), AND I had paid nine pounds to park, AND I had bought some new goggles especially, and so wasn’t not swimming, unless of course the organisers pulled the proverbial plug on the event (I am so not apologizing for that clever pun). 

This year, with all of its weather record-breaking highs, Shark and I, like most others, have been swimming in mostly (one emergency lake evacuation, due to lightning, aside) calm and, sometimes-balmy warm water, AND in skins no less! However Buttermere was a stark reminder of how quickly the weather can make conditions change, and how unpredictable the open water can be. We faced conditions that we have not been used to for a long time, in particular the cold. The week before the lake temperature was still a respectable 17oc. 

*I am well aware that submerging yourself in any body of water colder than yourself can lead to hypothermia, and the colder the water, the more likely this is to happen, and more quickly, and that no-one is immune, not even the most seasoned of swimmers, and so I’ve added a link to a blog I wrote about it that I’m told is worth a read AND was actually re-tweeted at the time by RNLI. Being re-tweeted by RNLI is better is than the time I swam with Duncan Goodhew when I was eight (mostly because I barely remember it, and there were two hundred other people swimming with him too). 

In addition to the cold, the rain meant that the water was really choppy and visibility was low, which made it disorientating and really tough going. Adding this into the mix meant that a swim that would usually (in a lovely chop/wind/cold/rain free lake) take me less than an hour and a half, took me nearly two hours. I am so pleased that I took the time to bilaterally breath when I first started swimming five years ago. This reduced the amount of times I was slapped in the face, by the lake to only several thousand, which made all the difference!

Swimming in a wetsuit was compulsory and I have to say certainly helped against the cold. The organisers had also insisted that we swam with a tow float too, which was a great call, and although they are not considered a safety device by the manufacturers, I do feel that since I bought the most humongous one I could find, that actually in an emergency situation I suspect it would be able to keep a hippo afloat, if necessary. It was great to have it during the swim; it gave me some extra confidence, although it was less great on the times when it decided to become a hat or smack me in the face after a gust of wind.

One final thing about the day that I would like to share and also includes a heartfelt apology, is this - Eating chocolate cake shortly before you get into a choppy lake to swim (like a millpond is fine) should not be considered. It should be a no-no on account that that it may not stay down. I speak from very bitter experience, and as far as I am concerned was a complete waste of a perfectly good, and not to mention expensive, slice of cake that I had forked out an over inflated £3.00 for at the service station. My apologies to the swimmers behind me, of which thanks to the lack of visibility meant that I was unable to apologise in person to after the swim, as I had no idea what they looked like, and again, thanks to the low visibility, would have no idea what they were about to be swimming through. If it’s any consolation, it was advertised as a hundred percent organic and was absolutely delicious at the time!

Here’s that 'must read' link I mentioned.

http://openwaterwoman.blogspot.com/2017/09/hypothermia-what-i-needed-to-know.html

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

Holidays - trying to train, lilo wars, unexpected swimming costume expose and possible megalodon sightings.

Even on holiday it seems there is no rest for the wicked. Two weeks of doing bugger all is not an option. I still need to train, I have a swim four days after I get back home, and so choosing a holiday destination for me has only one real requirement so I remain in peak condition (not really…you kind of need to be in peak position in the first place, which I’m not!), and that is a body of water suitable for some serious swimming …and snorkeling and paddling and laying on a lilo (although need to master the getting on the lilo bit first, which may actually be the most challenging thing I do all holiday, and the least rewarding!).

Of course there are a couple of other things on my wish list too, like non-stop sunshine, quality time with my family and a sun lounger reserved, every morning, with my towel on it (I know already-highly unlikely).

Very early start before the crowds arrive!

Fast forward two weeks, and now having returned from my holiday, finished the mountain of laundry, printed off the photographs, been to the supermarket, collected the dog… I finally, find the time (many, many hours later) to sit down with a cup of coffee and reflect on our holiday and my original requirement/wish lists. The holiday was amazing; the sun shone, the body of water suitable for some serious swimming WAS suitable for some serious swimming, we spent lots of quality time together (mostly the kids trying to drown me for using their inflatable as an armchair without permission). Sadly the wish list ends there, as I was unable to find someone to get up at the crack of dawn to put my towel on a sunbed on my behalf. My kids offered to do it for ten pounds a day, however I feel this is borderline daylight robbery and told them politely to sod off! In addition to this, on the back of several other unexpected necessities, which came to light during the holiday, I have decided that my requirements/wish list needs expanding for all future holidays to include the following: 

1)  Absolutely no talking about aquatic livestock at any point during the holiday - Despite loving the quality time with my kids, discussions with my son over breakfast about fishes/sharks I did not love (including photos and video footage that he has provided… next time I shall consider booking somewhere with an iffy or none existent Wi-Fi connection). I must add that his breadth of knowledge, in particular about the top five deadliest sharks, including size, food preferences, map coordinates of their home, migration paths, tooth size etc., is very impressive and is really comprehensive, and although it ruined my sea swim that day, on account that I managed to convince myself that everything that moved (or didn’t move) was the size of a Megaladon, I shall try to remember to thank my dad (once we are home), for sparking such an interest in aquatic life by buying him the million page long A-Z encyclopedia of Sharks, and allowing him to stay up way beyond his bedtime, when on a sleepover, to watch back to back pre-recorded episodes of River Monsters and Deadly 60! Steve Backshall would be proud. 

2)  Prepare some pre-holiday coaching sessions on the importance of the lifeguard taking their roll very seriously – So when asking daughter to fill the roll of lifeguard whilst I swam – basically, sit on the beach (on towel provided), whilst not taking eyes off swimmer (me) whilst swimmer swims, in the very near vicinity and let the swimmer know, by any means necessary (scream, yell, run up and down the sand waving arms, do a cartwheel, whatever it takes) if any large size ocean living creature appears anywhere from the horizon to the shoreline, and if necessary get in and save swimmer if swimmer gets into difficulty because of large ocean living creature, or gets into trouble for any other reason. The whole getting in the sea idea did not appeal to daughter who offered instead to go and get help rather than save her mother (possibly whilst her mother was getting dragged off into the murky depths by her toe… of worse, eaten in situ). Twenty two minutes in, and daughter has abandoned her post already, due, she told me, to getting sea water splashing her sunglasses leaving her unable to watch me clearly (rolls eyes – I suspect that it was more likely to be the lack of internet connection this far from the hotel). I am grateful I suppose that she didn’t just up and leave without signaling to me she was off. I took her flailing arms, trying to get my attention as a sign that a toe-eating shark had rocked up and I should evacuate the water quickly. I did, without elegance or poise (obviously) to finish my swim in the safety of the pool. 

3)  Pack more practical swimwear – the kind with rock solid built in scaffolding to make it impossible to expose those non-tanned parts of the body to other holidaymakers that are, up to that point before said shocking reveal, also enjoying a quiet, uneventful swim in the pool. In brief, deciding to do a couple of impromptu lengths at speed, whilst not wearing proper swimming swimwear, is not advisable. And to offer some further advice, if you do happen to reveal body parts unexpectedly do not make a huge fuss about it. It is more likely to go unnoticed if you are quiet. Next time (not that there will be a next time) I will be more ladylike and dignified about it – in short, I will not shriek and draw the attention of every person in the nearby vicinity to myself, my inadequate swimwear and my non-tanned parts. 

4)  Buy everyone their own inflatables. – Lying on an inflatable (and damn if that isn’t the hardest thing to master), even though you bought it (albeit for the kids), does not mean you have any rights whatsoever to that inflatable. You have none. It is every mother/ child for her/himself in lilo wars. Basically a scrabble involving one child, one adult (me), a plastic cup and a book took place where sadly the inflatable took the brunt of the struggle, and becoming not so inflatable anymore, and despite my very best efforts to revive it with a plaster, I was unable to resurrect it.

R.I.P Angelica

5)  Relax - Do not get upset if you cannot swim for more than an hour because it is too hot, too sunny, too busy (in the pool), too choppy, too scary, you have a trip planned for that day. You are after all on holiday! The hardest decision should be whether you want to wear the nautical looking, sensible swimming costume for a snorkeling trip or the floral bikini (and FYI – floral swimwear is not a great idea when snorkeling on a reef. A certain almost translucent fish took an unhealthy interest in it. I am deciding that it is because it thought that the pattern on my bikini was so lifelike and that was an actual piece of fauna, rather than anything else possibly more sinister)! 

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

Close encounter of a different kind... well a tiny, tiny fish anyway!

If you had asked me before today how my fish issue was coming along, I would have said confidently not too badly, after all I have stopped flinching when one of my own limbs comes into view during a swim, and I am now able to quickly assess, without stopping, whether it is my wetsuit zip pull or a lake snake round my neck (glad to say that it’s only even been the zip pull). In truth, none of the aforementioned are an actual threat, but the point is that I have managed every swim, so far, this season feeling quite relaxed and enjoyable, and although I haven’t actually seen a real live fish in any of the lakes I’ve swum in, I do consider this to be progress! 

Skip forward to today… As Shark and I got into the lake, a fellow swimmer was getting out looking rather flustered. I regret now enquiring as to what had rattled her, as it turns out to be the sighting of a large fish. I want to take the words back before they are even out of my mouth, but I find myself bombarding her with many questions:

“How big?”- “Huge” 

“Where in the lake?” I wanted coordinates… - “Pike Corner” (of course). 

“How close was it?” -  “Close enough to see.” 

I stopped myself at this point, for it was looking likely that she could tell me of its vital statistics. I knew enough already. Now I was in two minds whether to not swim at all, but I had paid my five pounds already and I’m not sure if refunds would be administered on the back of fish sighting in a lake that has fishes in it, and also not actually seen by me, and so tentatively got in. 

It was the first non-sunny day we’ve had in ages, in fact the sky was blackening by the minute. Thunderstorms had been forecast, and as a result of the lack of sunshine, visibility in the lake wasn’t as good as usual. It took all of five strokes for the penny to drop that if visibility was low, then the fish must have been really, really close to her, but I was committed now, and getting out would make me the subject of much leg pulling, so we bravely swam on (with me sticking to Shark like glue. They always take the smaller, weaker one first – that'd be her, not me). 

The first lap was event free, and I began to relax a bit (not entirely though…). I had one possible sighting of a fish that turned out to be nothing more than some brown pondweed, but apart from that, all was good. It was the second loop where all the drama happened. I saw a handful of very small fishes out of the corner of my eye, and out of the blue one darted towards me and very unexpectedly, hit me on the side of my head. I’d like to think that is was down to the poor visibility that caused it to hit me, rather than it being an actual attack (but you just can’t rule it out as a possibility, on the back of the fact that when you enter the lake you automatically become part of the food chain), or much worse… the possibility that I am utterly irresistible to fish! 

Anyway, I don’t know who was more stunned, me or it, but I didn’t stick around long enough to find out, I legged it. Sadly this meant quite a sprint as we were at the far side of the lake, and whilst I am not above getting out at the far end in an emergency situation (I would actually consider this an emergency, however if there were to be a handbook of swimming in a lake emergency possibilities, I'm very confident it wouldn't appear), this would alert the attention to the safety crew, and I know I would never live down being rescued on the back of this, and whilst I am not above embellishing the story to make it appear that I was fighting off some kind of overly large fish (a prehistoric Megalodon?) they know me well enough to know that it would have been a tall story. I hate that they know me so well at times! So I pretty much abandoned Shark and fled the scene of the crime (it won’t be for the first time). I was a few hundred metres ahead of her when I came to my senses (that it is most unlikely that the fish will be giving chasing) and to be honest my lungs were on the cusp of combusting and there was a high chance of a hernia happening if I kept at that neck breaking speed, so I waited for Shark at the next buoy. I’d like to add that this is not because she is a nurse, but if I am going to have a medical incident then I could do with someone with lots of experience to be as close as possible.

When Shark caught me up she was under the impression that I had decided to include a sprint into my swim. I was tempted to tell her I had, however I am a shockingly bad liar; I get all flustered, and as we have been friends for a long time, she knows me well enough and would smell a rat, so I told her the real reason for my sprint. Once she had finished laughing at me (she said it was well worth the choking fit she had), she remembered that I had actually left her and was suddenly less than impressed with me. I don’t blame her, but in the same circumstances I’d do it all again. I reminded her of the size of said fish (tiny), and that I suspected her life was not in any danger as even being struck on the side of the head, at what I suspect was it’s full speed, I was without a war wound… Not even got a small mark the size of a full stop to show for it. Nothing! Nada.

Shark was confident, and with good reason, that I would be ribbed about the ‘attack’ once I got back to the shoreline, and as I was considering not mentioning it to anyone, this would not happen, however I know that Shark would not be able to contain herself, and suggested that it would be in my best interest to embellish the story a bit and tell them it was probably a lake barracuda that had attacked me (because that is so much more believable), and offered to punch me in the head to make it seem more likely (is there nothing that she wouldn’t do for me?). Now I am not one for letting the truth get in the way of a good story, however her plan is flawed on several levels. Two immediately spring to mind: 1) Shark is tiny. The whole punching thing will probably result in me getting a mark no bigger than the invisible one I have already. 2) Leon (SwimYourSwim) has promised me that there are only nice fish in this lake, like pink goldfish and lake sea horses, and so they would not believe the barracuda fib anyway, and as Leon would never lie to me about the type aquatic livestock in the lake, we would look rather foolish telling him that it was something that does not actually live here. 

I tell her I’ll think about her offer as we swim back to the shoreline, however to prevent her from executing her plan, as I am not actually convinced she would wait for the green light to do it anyway, I decide my best option is to swim back and to exit the lake at speed and make my way to the showers before her. Hopefully this will be achieved without tripping, falling over or clashing with another swimmer (all possible) along the way, meaning that Shark won’t be near enough to get a good swing at me at any point.

I have added some rain and lightening to give the photo more drama, and to give you an idea of how bad the conditions were.
The rainbow is real though.

As we approached Pike Corner I paused (I know right?) whilst Shark swam on. This was not to put some space between myself and Rocky Balboa swimming next to me, but because I was taking a moment to stop to see how much the sky had suddenly darkened further. In all of the shenanigans I hadn’t realised that it had began to rain quite heavily. There had been a weather warning for thunder, and we had been briefed before we had got in as to the procedure in case of lightening in the area (They said “if you hear the klaxon swim to the side and carefully exit the lake, helping others if necessary,” however I heard “if you hear the klaxon swim like you’re being chased and it’s every man for himself”), and then out of nowhere (well, the sky as it goes) the first flash appeared, immediately followed by the klaxon going off, making me jump and swallow a nasty mouthful of water. Once I had composed myself enough to swim, like the clappers, back to the side, I realized that I didn’t actually know where Shark was. I looked back for her, but she wasn’t there. I admit that I kept swimming whilst I was looking, but I was panicking, because who wants to go back into the water after a lightening strike to look for their swim buddy that they have carelessly misplaced? However Shark had been a little more on the ball and swifter in her response than me and was already wind sprinting towards the side… leaving me far behind. Some swim buddy she is!!!😂

I was about to give chase before I remembered that there was a promise to punch me in the chops, and to be honest it was a little like being between the devil and the deep blue sea… Swim out with her and risk a punch, or stay in the water a little longer with the possibility of being struck by lightening… Shark was waiting for me with my Swimzi when I got out, and very carefully at arms length, I took it off her. She told me that although she had initially been following my “every man for himself” philosophy, but when I didn’t get out with her she became concerned that I may actually have a concussion from the fish head butt and felt guilty about leaving me. I know this to be a big fat lie, for I know that she wants to get home in good time to be able to watch the pre-recorded episode of Poldark before Mr. Shark gets home from his cricket match, and as designated driver for the evening, if I am actually injured this would essentially put the kibosh on her plans. I consider pretending to have a bit of an ache from the impact (she did leave me in a lake after all), however don't think she would see the funny side of me coming between her and a historic period drama (😉) for a fake headache...!

Thanks for reading, and for those of you that enjoy my blogs, my book Open Water Woman Swims Windermere is now available in paperback and electronically on Amazon.

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

 @Openwaterwoman_
Open Water Woman

Epic Swim - Derwent Water 2018

One of the usual routes to the lakes has a huge detour in place thank to a landslide. Shark and I had already factored this into our journey to Derwent Water for the Epic swim, and set off to Windermere in plenty of time to incorporate some obligatory pre-swim refreshments (basically coffee and a scone loosely passed off as a nutritionally sound breakfast) and to get the best parking spot, or actually any parking spot – it gets really busy. Unfortunately it took us until we were nearly in Windermere itself before Shark told me that she wasn’t a hundred percent sure of the way to Derwent from there, and a frantic look on Google Maps revealed that we should have gone up the A1 (like we did last year…) avoiding the (albeit scenic) long and completely the wrong way altogether journey so far, and were some way off our destination still, meaning that time was now not on our side. Shark began blaming jetlag, having just returned from her holiday with Mr. Shark, however I have been to Amsterdam before and it’s pretty much in the same time zone as we are so I am not buying her excuse for a second. Our detour did sadly mean that something would have to give and unfortunately it was looking very likely that it was going to be our pre-swim breakfast. Using the map this time, we made haste (without breaking the speed limit) across to Derwent and consoled ourselves (made do) with the edible contents of Shark’s glove box (a third of a ClifBar and three unidentifiable objects that I suspect were once Jelly Babies, and were perfectly edible, despite being coated in fluff and a bit of tissue). 

As fortune had it, we found a parking spot straight away and in a slight state of panic we hastily got ourselves ready, before heading to the registration point and the start line. Upon registration I discovered that Shark and I were swimming in separate waves. For some reason I was in the fastest group, along with lots of elite swimmers. I have no idea how this happened, as I am not elite by any stretch of the imagination – hell, I can’t even dive in (thankfully it was a deep water start, otherwise I’d have been in even bigger trouble), and so in a bid to at least not look like a fake, I attempted to blend in by hiding amongst them and doing a few gentle stretches (my wetsuit would not allow for anything too vigorous thankfully, so this also eliminated things like those extreme yoga poses I love so much like Lord of the Dance and Upward Facing Two-Foot Staff Pose), but I had been so worried that we were late that I had asked Shark to zip up my wetsuit as soon as we had arrived, and that was 20 minutes ago. The air temperatures was around 25oc so I began contemplating undoing it before I actually started to cook, but as I had lost Shark in the sea of same colour swim caps, this would mean asking an actual athlete to redo me up, and risk being ousted as a phony once they saw the battle to get it done up again. It could also mean they ran the risk of a possible pre-swim thumb strain getting me in, and the guilt would be too much, so decided on a better plan that included pouring a bottle of cold water down the inside on my wetsuit (absolutely nothing like in a Baywatch fashion I might add).

After the safety briefing we (the rest of the fast group and me, but not Shark) were asked to swim to the starting buoy. I nearly broke my neck even before I was off the pontoon, not because it was slippy, but because the swimmer in front dropped his goggles and in my haste to get in the lake, ran into the back of him in a very unladylike fashion. Let’s just say that wetsuits touched and leave it there.

I knew I was in trouble when everybody was already overtaking me in the warm up swim, and so on the back of this, I figured that as there was absolutely no chance whatsoever, for a thousand reasons that I would never win this race, that I would place myself in front of all of the swimmers so that for the first nanosecond of the swim I could actually say that I was in the lead. Something to brag about after the swim. That was until I overheard the two swimmers near me discussing a sub forty-five minute swim and their strategy. I realized quite quickly that there was a probability that I was about to be swum over if I got in the way, and not one to be preventing someone from achieving their very fast goal, I moved my slow self to the back of the group where the chat was more about the high level of midges (of which I can boast several quite impressive bites to the neck, but none to the other exposed part of my body- my ankles) and types and sizes of fishes in this lake. A conversation I was able to share the breadth of my knowledge (I checked on Google when I entered the swim). I’m not sure whether my fellow swimmers were impressed or slightly alarmed at the lengths of extensive research I had gone to. The expression for both is very similar I think. 

After several minutes of treading water, and the obligatory pre-swim sing song (heads, shoulders, knees and toes), which had I have known about in advance would have spent time practicing my vocal ranges and gargling with salt water to help improve my tone, we were off, and all at very different speeds, mostly everyone else very fast, and me just doing my usual steady pace at the back. Having privy to the fast swimmers conversation about times I decided that my only goal was to swim fast enough to not be lapped by one of them. This meant that there was no time for faffing about, which was easy really as the water was lovely and warm, and calm, all thanks to the great weather we’ve been having, and all combined made for a great and relatively fast swim, with only one Day of the Triffids incident, involving a large piece of pond weed (probably not its botanical name) that was determined to share my swim experience by attaching itself, one way or another, to me. I did learn though that it is virtually impossible to continue to swim whilst battling to free your limbs (arm/watch) and your goggles from the stuff, and it is best, in the interest of safety to stop swimming for a second and just untangle yourself rather than attempting to detach it mid stroke, bringing myself to the attention of a very keen eyed safety kayaker, who appeared very quickly out of nowhere (honestly I’m talking Liam Heath fast) to check I was okay. 

As the finish pontoon approached, a grim reality hit me; how was I going to get out when any kneeling down on my left knee means there’s a good change that it will dislocate, leaving my very much in trouble. It hadn’t crossed my mind when we got in that it may cause me, and possibly the organisers, a problem and the last thing I wanted was to be yelling “I need an ambulance!” without even crossing the finish line. This would not be happening. I wanted a finishers medal suddenly even more than I wanted my post swim cake, and so some quick thinking was required on my part, and so without caring what I looked like, I launched myself onto the jetty stomach first, before turning over, sitting up, and then standing; all with one straight leg. I still can’t decide whether it was comedy gold or utterly genius, but one thing is for sure, I was out in one piece to take ownership of my well-deserved, rather lovely medal, and there was more cheerful news, I also wasn’t lapped! Yay!  

Derwent was such a lovely swim day out, and to celebrate our amazing swim, and to make up for this morning’s food routine going to pot thanks to Shark’s ‘jetlag’ we decided we deserved a huge slice of cake… and quickly, so hastily got dressed, which on reflection should not be attempted when you are still damp from your swim and cocooned in a Swimzi coat for modesty reasons, because you can get kind of tangled in your vest and in your panic to rectify the situation end up with the coat falling to the floor whilst not fully dressed and rather unexpectedly revealing yourself to the good people of Derwent! 

On that bombshell we quickly packed up our belongings with me, red faced from embarrassment, and Shark red faced from laughing (lack of oxygen I think, serves her right) and after consulting with Google Maps once more, headed towards home… pretty much as the crow flies this time, and after a lengthy coffee and cake stop I admit I really wouldn't have minded a Nanna nap on the way back, however I was worried that Shark was still suffering from a case of same time zone jet lag, that I put myself in charge of map reading in a bid to get home whilst there were still daylight hours to be had. No rest for the wicked I guess!  

Thanks for reading, and for those of you that enjoy my blogs, my book Open Water Woman Swims Windermere is now available in paperback and electronically on Amazon.

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

 @Openwaterwoman_
Open Water Woman