Whitby Training Camp - organised by the swim buddy.

With only 2 months till our Channel relay window we decided that we really needed to get some sea swimming practice in. The swim buddy and I hadn’t done any at all this year, and knew it would be very different from the lake. The reason wasn’t only to get a practice swim in, but to also to try a few things that we needed to use on the day of the swim – Nothing new on race day, as the saying goes, for example Shark had bought some very expensive sun lotion, which included some jellyfish sting protection and we needed to check that we didn’t have a reaction to it, and also that it worked… I meant in its sun protection capacity, but read on… 

Also, I had bought a couple of green safety lights, recommended by the Channel Swimming Association to use during the relay, and although not complicated at all to use (basically you press a button to turn it on and then press it again to turn it off again), as we were required to socially distance on the boat, I would need to be completely self-sufficient, so wanted to check I had got the gist of where I would put it on the back of my costume and how it fixed on. I would have undoubtedly had been able to get a better idea as to whether it had worked if only I had actually worn a costume that was CSA approved instead of the non-CSA approved one I chose to wear!

The forecast was sunny, and so anticipating it being busy we decided that we should set off at the crack of dawn so we could get parked. We arrived very much ahead of any rush and had indeed beaten absolutely everyone else that would arrive for a day in Whitby. On another plus side, it gave us over an hour and a half to find a café in this small seaside town, and also, with safety being paramount, time to search for the RNLI lifeboat station and check that the vessel was firstly substantial, and secondly, only a stone’s throw from where we would be swimming... just in case. Satisfied that this was the case, we found a café directly across the harbour from it, and spent a good hour delighting at how calm the water was and how lucky we were to find ourselves with such favourable swimming conditions. 

Before we got in, we went for a walk along the pier, we soon realised that the calm water in the harbour was not actually mirrored in the open sea, and whilst it was still relatively calm, it wasn’t the millpond we had spent the last hour visualising ourselves swimming in as we drank our coffees. 

We (well, the swim buddy really) had arranged to meet up with Whitby Wild Swimmers group member Ally, who understood the tides and talked us through our route and anything we should be aware of, including rip currents and stuff under the waterline. After Ally had contacted the Coast Guard to let them know we were swimming, and a bit of faffing about looking for a lost earbud that I already had in my hand, we set off with tow floats and green lights and smothered in sun lotion, on what promised (if the labelling were to be believed) to be a jellyfish sting free swim.

 

The water was a balmy 14oc, and actually only a little choppy. I was delighted that I only managed to swallow a couple of nasty mouthfuls before I adjusted my breathing and found a rhythm with the waves. The water was so clear, and aside from a brown blob – assumed seaweed, that went past, rather randomly under my arm, I didn’t see a single fish, shark, seal, jellyfish or anything at all for that matter, but I admit this didn’t stop me from swimming nearer to the shoreline than the swim buddy, in fact all of the other swimmers. And if I were being completely honest, despite telling her that this was sheer coincidence, this probably wasn’t entirely true... If we were going to be chased, I wanted a fighting chance at getting to the shoreline before everyone else. 

 

By the time we got back to the beach we were very reluctant to get out, however after almost an hour, I was starting to feel the cold, and I felt that my swimming costume had been rubbing under my right arm. This was new, as it didn’t usually, but put it down to perhaps salt water, and decided that I should bear this in mind for the day of the swim. It was only once we were out that I realised that it wasn’t that my costume had rubbed, but instead I had been stung by a jellyfish. 

The swim buddy immediately went into nurse mode and rushed over to check I was okay. Her lack of any medical supplies for a sting was a testament to her faith in the sun lotion, and in a bid to help in any way she could, or perhaps just out of guilt, she offered to wee on it for me! 

Now had it have been a sting from a Portuguese man o war, I would have been prepared to try anything, even the swim bud weeing on me, but as I was 100% confident that the small round, brown object that I saw, and initially thought to be seaweed, but now knew differently, was absolutely definitely NOT a Portuguiese man o war, I decided that I would instead use some cream that the other nurse in our group had thankfully brought with her, just in case we had such an occasion to use it.

In the meantime, Shark then discovered she too had several (much smaller) stings, and before I was able to return the wee offer, was having them treated with the cream instead. Rather ironically, the only 2 of us that had applied the sun lotion with the jellyfish sting repellent in it, were the only two that also happened to get stung!?! 

 

Once we had dressed and compared wounds, we left the sea and straight into a chip shop, and to pick the brains of a fellow swimmer that had already swum in a Channel relay, before heading off in search of coffee… and some cake (for the shock).

 

Despite the sting, I absolutely loved the swim, and learnt a lot from it. I’d like to say a huge thanks to Ally for looking after us all so well, and thankfully we didn’t need to call on the services of the RNLI for anything. We decided that we do need to do a couple more sea swims, for more trials and to gain more confidence, and so Shark and I have already invited ourselves back in a few weeks time. On reflection, I think THE most important thing I learnt from this swim was that whilst I have already planned for a lot of eventualities that might happen mid-Channel relay swim, I was not one bit prepared for a jellyfish sting to happen, and so Shark and I have discussed trying a different sun lotion, one that might actually work, as well as being more post-sting prepared, and so next time we swim in the sea I will be, along with everything else, armed with some vinegar, a pair of tweezer and some antihistamine, which incidentally, I have since read works a lot better than wee!  

Finally, if you'd like to see some videos of our jaunt to Whitby, then head over to the Open Water Woman Facebook group page. 

 

 

 

My first post-lockdown swim

67 days between swims felt just too long. The only saving grace was that my Channel Relay swim, scheduled for w/c 27^th May, had been postponed until late September (all being well), which meant that for this swim there was no immediate pressure to get back in the lake for a swim, but training for a Channel relay wasn’t the reason I swam, I just loved it, and wanted to get back in as soon as I safely could. 

 

I’d been doing various other exercises in the gap to try and keep my fitness up, but still knew that there was not real replacement, and so would be really, really rusty, that’s if I could remember how to swim at all when I got in, so when I finally heard the news I’d been waiting for, that the lake would be opening again, I almost cried I was so happy. I was just as excited to be seeing my swim famalam once again, even if it was from a distance, and there would be no catch up over coffee and cake afterwards, and so booked my place on the first swim slot available. 

 

I spoke with the swim buddy before we left (usually we would have had this conversation in the car on the way to the lake accompanied by large coffee), the hot topic was deciding whether we should wear a wetsuit or not for the swim. Despite the lake being over 18oc, we mutually decided in favour of wearing them, partly for safety reasons, but also because we hadn’t been in the open water for so long and had wanted to enjoy the experience of being back in the water without cutting it short because we were cold, we would wear them, just this once to test the water as it were, but knowing that we really could have done with getting back into skins as soon as we could. Decision made I realised then that I hadn’t remembered to pack my Glide or even my rash vest. Talk about being disorganised, but could have been worse, it could have been my goggles, or my hat, or much worse, my post-swim slice of cake. 

 

Thankfully, a fellow swimmer, who also happened to be a keen cyclist, came to my rescue and offered me, along with an antibacterial wipe, some of his ant-chafing cream. I’ll add here that it didn’t actually dawn on me until I got home that as a keen cyclist he probably didn’t have the cream for any chafing that may have occurred on his neck whilst riding his bike… On the plus side though, it worked a treat!

 

Since my 2 Way Windermere swim in August last year, knowing that we had a Channel Relay swim booked, Shark and I hadn’t worn our wetsuits much, and to be honest, I once I started to put it on I wasn’t one bit sure that I ever remember it being that tight, but decided that it must have been rather than to acknowledge it may have been the lack of exercise and the countless ‘bake off’ competitions that had occurred in my house whilst in lockdown had contributed to this. 

 

A downside to social distancing was that I was unable to ask someone to zip me in, and after a struggle, found the best way was to (not very elegantly) lean over, breath out and jiggle the zip up. On the upside, social distancing meant that no-one was close enough to bear witness close up to the fiasco. I’d made my mind up there and then that if I had to go through the same rigmarole to get out of it after the swim, I would drive home wearing it and extract myself from it in the privacy of my own 4 walls – probably with a crowbar!

 

It became obvious very soon into the swim that this was not going to be groundbreakingly fast. Unfortunately, I was unable to measure my speed accurately, like on a watch for example, on the back of the fact that despite having one on, I had forgotten that you had to press the start button to make it actually work…I did press one, but clearly the wrong one, and so instead had to measure my level of slowness based on the many other swimmers that overtook me during the swim.

 

Our hour was up soon enough, and as I approached the shoreline, grinning, I turned to look back at the lake that I’d missed so much and reflected on my swim. The leisurely pace I swam at (not by choice obvs) meant I could see that the lake, thankfully, hadn’t been taken over a large flock of large and possessive lake dwelling birds deciding to take up residency in the absence of any swimmers. I was also noting how I’d not seen one fish during my swim. It was then, as the swim buddy and I neared the jetty a fish darted out towards us from under it. I was surprised to find that I wasn’t scared, but it did make me jump and stopped me in my tracks. The swim buddy swam on, and at first I thought she had been oblivious to the sighting, but I soon noted that her pace had increased by quite a lot, in fact she was pretty much wind sprinting back. It was great to be reminded that should I be involved in a fish collision that I would remain very much on my own and our ‘every swimmer for themselves’ rule was still in place. Yep, I’ve definitely missed this place, and the swim buddy. A lot!

So lovely to be back in the lake.

Thanks for reading. For more regular posts, please look for Open Water Woman on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook. Stay safe. 

Lockdown swim training - in the absence of my own private pool, lake or pond.

I’ve almost lost count of the weeks since we went into lockdown, and after spending the first few days in a complete panic about not being able to get in the pool, or the lake to train for my Channel Relay swim scheduled for the end of May, I realised that no amount of worrying about it was going to change anything. It was best to stay safe at home and take the opportunity to explore some alternative forms of exercise, in the hopes that WHEN everything re-opens, I will at least have maintained a certain level of fitness.

Lockdown has meant I’ve had a lot of time on my hands, some of which I have spent doing some rather pressing jobs around the house that desperately needed doing, like painting my summer house with the paint I bought last summer when it ACTUALLY needed doing, but instead chose to spend pretty much all of my spare time at the lake, swimming. I have also filled in an enormous hole that my dog had spent several long afternoons digging, for no obvious reason that I can think of, aside from a quest to find the centre of the earth, and it needed sorting – under the current lockdown circumstances though, I seriously contemplated excavating it further to, I don’t know, approximately a 25 metre rectangle! 

I’d like to think that I would use this opportunity to spend quality time with my family, however realised this probably wouldn’t happen on the back of discovering we are living in different time zones, severely reducing the hours of possible opportunity, but I will keep trying… probably to their horror! I also had ideas of using the time to do things such as learn a new language – I was thinking Chinese or Russian, however it was suggested by my mum that I perhaps wasn’t destined to be bilingual, and reminded me that it took me the best part of three years to master the words pencil case (trousse) and pencil (crayon) in French when I was in school…I am yet to use them in my adult life, but I am confident that one day my efforts will all pay off when I’m finally asked if I have a pencil or a pencil case! 

I also thought it would be a great opportunity to attempt more cooking, however after the first night in isolation, and a disastrous meal, that included the tinned prunes I panic bought, despite not actually liking tinned prunes (or even non-tinned prunes), turned out to be frankly quite disgusting, my kids suggested (begged) me to not see it through, and they decided they would take their chances cooking their own meals. It’s a complete mystery as to why I ever thought that because we were in lockdown that I would suddenly turn into Nigella Lawson overnight, and make meals that were both edible and delicious, when usually they were awful or inedible. 

Sadly, because building a makeshift pool/lake in the garden was out of the question, I have also had to find alternative ways to exercise to replace my swimming. My Channel Relay has already been postponed to the end of September, which afforded me some extra time to train (please, all being well), and so really needed to lose as little fitness as possible between now and my first swim post-lockdown. 

I knew that I needed to choose exercises that had the same mechanical purpose to swimming, but I also wanted to use the opportunity to explore other forms of exercise that would also challenge different muscles. I have been guilty of sticking to the same exercise routines, reluctantly doing anything other than front-crawl, and only modifying it occasionally, despite knowing that after the initial improvements, I would plateau, which so far hadn’t stopped me repeating the same process, and what made it worse is that I became frustrated and moaned at the lack of improvement, even though I knew they wouldn’t happen, because my body had adapted, and so I spent quite a lot of time, accompanied by many coffees and the one thing I can cook – decent cake, scouring the internet for some training ideas and programs, for example, weight-lifting and HIIT cardio. I’ve also dusted off equipment that hasn’t seen the light of day in a long time (actually I can't remember buying one of them), and even back then had used only a handful of times on account that I was a bit sh*t at it…. well, all of them really! 

One other thing that I am unable to do, always have been, and so was very keen to master whilst I had some time to fathom out where I was going so wrong, was the press-up. It astonishes me that I can successfully complete a 21 mile swim without stopping, and yet I can’t do a single one. Not one. I can do a half of one really well, unfortunately that’s the down part, but I am yet to complete a whole one. 

Sigh.... won't be long. Hope I can still remember how to do it.
I may be a bit rusty!

I suppose the question is, will my swimming improve as a result of any non-swimming lockdown training? And the answer would be, who knows? But what I do know is this… after lots of days, nay weeks in lockdown already, several rather astonishing things have happened: 

• I have become a bit of an expert at rowing, well I say an expert, what I did was to go onto YouTube and watch Sir Matthew Pincent’s ‘Top Rowing Tips’ video, and you can’t get a more qualified coach than that, can you? And as there’s a very obvious lack of any experts (Sir Matthew) being able to see me to tell me I’m doing it wrong I’m going with it. I might just like to add that when I say expert, what I mean is that (as of yet) I haven’t fallen off it, broken anything - included in this are body parts and furniture, and nor have I needed to phone one of the emergency services for help because I have incurred an injury.

• I've learnt that buying a professional rope does not automatically make you an instant professional. On the back of this discovery I have decided not to continue with the skipping, because unlike my daughter who has taken to it like Rocky Balboa, my first attempt resulted in me becoming a little entangled in the rope, with no-one willing to help me until several photos had been taken (regardless of my objections) to remember the moment...

• I would never have discovered how much I really love weight training. Not necessarily the horrid arm jiggle that occurs whilst doing it though (pretty much like sails on a boat), but I am working exceptionally hard on transforming them, but also because weight training is great for building bone and muscle strength, and a way of helping to decrease my chances of getting osteoporosis, which the risk for me now, has increased dramatically (this is because oestrogen is needed to help lay down bone), and actually, I really should have been doing it a lot sooner... 

• I couldn’t have appreciated how difficult it would be to coordinate taking part in a step exercise class whilst watching it on the television at the same time! I’ve now overcome my fear of headbutting the T.V in some freak accident, and as long as I stick to the low intensity ones that include no sudden, or quick movements, I’ll be fine… and with rock solid thighs as well!

• Lockdown has also revealed to me, and the rest of the household, just how much I really needed to replace those, frankly obscene, leggings. 

• Another, unexpected bonus, was the discovery of the ten pound note I found under the sofa whilst doing some core exercises on the floor. I am yet to let anyone in on my findings. I probably never will...I'll use it to go towards some new, less revealing leggings!

• And finally, on the whole elusive press-up fiasco...  I can say, with confidence that I can now comfortably execute 1 whole press up. It’s not technically perfect, and it’s not pretty, but what it is is a whole one. That’s an improvement of 100%. It’s a really big deal! 

Thanks for reading. For more regular posts, please look for Open Water Woman on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook. Stay safe. 

Pool Water Woman - for the time being...

At the end of the summer swim season last year, swim buddy and I were chatting about ultimate swim challenges we would love to do. She also informed me that we needed do them soon “before we get too old and things started dropping off…” I declared that Alcatraz was still a to do on my bucket list (and the irony-absolutely not lost on me), and Shark informed me of her desire to take part in a Channel Relay... And that's when it happened. I pause for a millisecond too long, and Shark took this as confirmation that I too was thinking about it, which incidentally, I wasn't, and so I seriously have no idea how this happened, but in a moment of madness, I threw caution and any sense I was born with to the wind, and found myself agreeing to join her!

In honesty after the initial shock had subsided, I thought that it would be very likely that despite agreeing to do it, it would take such a long to organise a boat, and another two people that she would either think it was too much bother and change her mind, decide that we would indeed be too old by the time it was sorted and not do it because by the time we COULD do it, things had already begun dropping off, or something that was commonplace at our age, just forget we had even had the conversation in the first place and it wouldn’t happen. 

Alas, no. I suspect that Shark was worried that if she gave me any thinking time that I would see sense and change my mind again, and I’ll admit, that as soon as the words ‘go on then’ were out of my mouth, I wanted to take them back. Sensing my sudden hesitancy, Shark was on a mission, and by the time we had finished our coffee, she had contacted Leon at SwimYourSwim, and not fifteen minutes later we had a pilot, his boat, a swim date, a team name and two more possible team members. Shark was not letting the grass grow!

At first I sat there feeling a little stunned that we were actually really doing this. Sensing my panic, Shark reminded me of all the positives of doing this swim. The guilt free food I’d be able to eat (Jaffa Cakes being top), the bragging rights, the hoodie... I told her that I was in only on the proviso that the extensive Google searches for any and all possible shark and sightings in the English Channel, since the dawn of time, came up blank.  

I had been swimming all through the summer season in my wetsuit, as I’d been training for my two way Windermere swim for most of it, and afterwards just kept wearing it out of habit and of course I was worried about the profits in Sudorcrem and Vaseline plummeting if I stopped, and whilst I didn't like the to think that I was single handedly responsible for any economic downturn they may suffer as a result of it, I needed to ditch the wetsuit that covered pretty much all of me from the ankle upwards, in favour of skins, which required the purchase of several new Channel approved swimming costumes. All of which covered not as much flesh as I was entirely comfortable with at my age.

It was necessary to swap this early as we had been advised to complete our two hour qualifying swim for the relay, if possible, as soon as the temperature dropped to below 15.5oC. That way it was done, dusted and in the bag, and if by any chance I didn’t succeed, there would be the possibility of another bite of the cherry. 

The following few weeks I spent as much time as I could at the lake, in my new costumes (there shall be absolutely not one photograph of this). The temperature dropped gradually, which I was told was a good thing in so much as that I could get used to the lower temperatures slowly, but I wasn’t convinced anything would get me entirely used to it, it was still quite a shock every time I got in, and I found that hovering round the shore line procrastinating, and trying to draw anyone that would talk into a conversation to delay getting in, did not help one bit. 

I learned quite quickly that the best ‘getting in’ strategy, for me, was to just get ready and get in. Simple as that. No faffing about. No talking. No hesitating. It was once I had reached toe level that multiple and many sweary words that I thought I had only thought, actually leaked out of my mouth. I knew this because I was reliable informed by those still in the near vicinity that the words DID come out of my mouth. I was also informed (you know who you are) that some of the words were not actually considered ‘legal’… had we been playing Scrabble, which, were I a fan of Scrabble, would have been invaluable information, and worth remembering during a game! 

Before long the water temperature dropped below the permitted 15.5oC, Shark and I (and Richard, one of our other team members) completed our 2 hour qualifier. The whole swim was, let’s say, chilly, but having 2 of my fellow team-mates with me really kept me going, along with the knowledge that absolutely all the fishes in the lake would be hibernating somewhere deep in the water, for the winter (or at least that's what I was told and choose to believe). That, along with the very large quantities of coffee and cake I had promised myself, by way of celebration, the second we were out, changed and I had stopped shivering enough to not spill any, which of course would be wasteful, and not to mention careless. 

Shark and I mixed our open water swimming with pool sessions. We had hoped to carry on swimming at the lake on a Saturday morning through the winter, even though the distances would become less and the recovery more, however this was not to be. One thing and another meant that between surprise weekends away, family commitments, bad weather and an aching toe (Me, not Shark, and yes I am aware of how pathetic this comes across, but to put it into context, I stubbed it and it REALLY hurt. A lot), we wouldn’t be able to make it to the lake for 5 weeks. 5 weeks felt too long to be thinking about getting back in again. The water by this time had dropped to near the 5oC mark. I was aware that getting back in again would be extremely uncomfortable, and possibly dangerous. Not only that, but I was also worried that I would get back in and really not love it, and after talking it over with Leon, I reluctantly decided to wait until the water warmed up before getting back in. 

And so I find myself currently on an open water sabbatical. Not because I want to be, but because I feel I’ve left it too long between cold water swims to go back just yet. This sabbatical is happening in a warm, who am I kidding? Practically boiling hot pool, but that's okay because unlike at the lake, I am permitted to shower afterwards, and the chances of getting home after being in the pool to find some type of organic matter (leaf, bit of twig, green stuff, unidentified brown thing) or other stuck to my body somewhere is exceptionally low (although there is still a very small possibility, but we won't talk about that one occasion as I'm still moderately traumatised by the whole thing...).  

And actually, it’s not so bad. At the end of the day, I still get to swim, and as the external variables are less than in the open water (temperature, tide, weather, flock of birds, exceptionally large and fast fish), I am able to chart my progress more accurately (or not, if for example I am stopped mid-way through a set to be asked if I know what the time is, or what time the life guard arrives or whether I know the temperature (yes- DAMN HOT!). 

I would be lying if I said that I don’t diss the pool at times, but it IS usually under mitigating circumstances that I do this, for example when a non-conformist swimmer gets in and swims breadths, or decides that the middle of the lane that we have been sharing is where they choose to swim. There are also other pool related dangers too, like for example possible lane rope burn, entanglement (hair balls – absolutely not mine) are some examples, and also self- inflicted injuries, like the ones that happen on the back of a terrible tumble turn, followed by the immediate inability to swim in a straight line, which result in a nasty collision with the pool steps. I came of worse FYI. 

I have been swum over, swum under, swum into, and in the interest of honesty, have myself swum over, under and into a fellow swimmer before now… and then swam into him again during the very same swim session, and to practically finish the poor man off, then kicked him when he switched lanes (on his side of the lane rope), which I suspect is actually quite difficult to achieve WITH planning, let alone without! (I’d like to add that I do know this poor man, and I am aware that this doesn’t make it one bit better, but just to let you know, he took it well, and still swims with me… on occasion when there are no ‘safer’ lanes free at the other side of the pool)!

I could go on, but despite the ‘dangers’ it’s actually not all that bad. Yes, I’d prefer to be in a lake, and yes, I realise I’m saying this – even though I know there are other and different dangers that can happen in a lake, like for example accidentally becoming impaled on a Narwhal horn, or swimming into a jetty, and I do miss the open water. A LOT! Hell, I'd even go as far as to say that I’m even looking forward to seeing Nemesis Swan again...but the pool has its benefits too, and whilst I am awaiting for spring to arrive, bringing with it some much needed warmth, you can find me poolside... waiting...

Thanks for reading. For more regular posts on my Channel Relay swim training, please look for Open Water Woman and follow me on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.  

Road Trip to Thames Lido

Back in May I suggested to swim buddy that it would be lovely to celebrate her forthcoming VERY LARGE birthday by going on a swimming road trip, however, after our previous trip, I was nervous about going on another one, and hoped that enough time had gone by for her to forgive and forget about the last one that I organised to Wales, for the Hurly Burly swim, which included - let’s call it a monumentally bad hotel choice, and leave it there. 

As soon as I suggested my idea, it was immediately followed by some shameless hinting, by her, about how lovely Thames Lido was, and as I’d not been and wanted to see for myself, I bought her one of their swim&dinner vouchers as a gift. To be honest, I should probably have given her two, so she could choose who she went with, being that it was her birthday and all, but as I was one hundred percent not confident that she would have chosen to go with me rather than Mr Shark, and having seen on line at how lovely it looked, I really, really wanted to go, so I bought her just the one ticket… just in case!

Despite her birthday being back in May, (Shark was really eeking out the celebrations), finally, this week several months later, we made it! I insisted that we drove this time, despite it taking four and a half hours to get there, this was because on a previous swim road trip when Shark was put in charge of transport, she managed to book us onto the only silent carriage on the twenty carriage train, which meant that we had to not talk for two very long hours, AND had to be quiet, which turned out to be nigh impossible when your snack of choice for the journey was the noisiest crisps in the world! And so, because Shark had been sacked from the role of transport organiser on the back of this, I insisted we drove instead so we could actually talk and eat anything we liked for the whole drive if we so wished. In the interest of fairness though, but mostly because my last hotel booking was more Faulty Towers than luxury escapes, I put her in charge of sorting out the hotel instead. More about that bad decision later...

Just to fill you in… and because I took the time to read up, I’ll share. 

In 1902 this amazing open air swimming pool was built for the ladies of Reading at the cost of £4,890 (the menfolk had their own 79m pool already built). Unfortunately, it closed in 1974, and fell into disrepair. It was on the verge of demolition when in 2004 it was granted Grade 2 listed status after a public campaign, and in 2013 the local council agreed to allow the management at Bristol Lido to develop the site. In 2017 it reopened to the public (NOT just ladies), and now includes a restaurant, bar, spa and the best fluffy towels, and looks all rather lovely!

We arrived in Reading and headed straight to our hotel (after getting lost twice). On first impressions it looked great, especially since it included all the basic requirements that were sorely lacking from the last one. The one I chose. Like an en-suite bathroom, a non-circa 1960’s carpet, a wardrobe with a door and full size towels that were large enough to actually cover every bit of you whilst you went from bathroom to bedroom... It also looked to have proper curtains (unlike the ones in Wales) – the type that drew fully. And it was at that moment, when I decided to take a look out of the window at the view of Reading, that I saw it… Or didn’t as the case was. The view – or lack of. The ‘view’ from the window was NOT of Reading town centre, or rooftops or anything at all. The view was completely blocked by a huge white box thingy. I chose to say nothing, because as far as complaints went, I really didn’t have a leg to stand on after my bad choice, but felt a little reprieved, because whilst we did have fully working curtains, it was still a really bad view!

After 4.5 hours we had finally arrived!

After we had unpacked, we quickly headed to the Lido, and not wanting to appear too keen (but we really were), we arrived at the Lido fashionably early and made the most of the opportunity to sample their coffee. We were going to only have coffee, on account that I usually wasn’t all that great with eating and then swimming straights after (unless it’s one from my tried and tested somewhat eclectic list – mainly comprising of Jaffa Cakes, Fat Rascals and Milky Way), however Shark insisted that if we were going to drive all that way, we should at least go for the full experience, and by the recommendation of the barista, we also tried the Turkish frangipani and a Portuguese custard tart. I didn’t usually like to break tradition of having cake and such like until after we had swim, but as it was a special occasion, decided that just this once, pre and post swim food was fine. The fact that they were absolutely delicious may have contributed to that decision… And actually, in the interest of a full experience, and because I absolutely didn't share, and also because I had a severe case of pudding envy, decided that breaking protocol on this occasion was absolutely fine with me… Unless I threw up, in which case it would be not fine with anybody, especially if the pool were to be evacuated.

After wolfing down our food (it was so tasty) I felt ready to conquer the world… well, the pool anyway! We decided that we would have a swim first, after all, that was what we had actually come for, and so headed to get changed. Shark couldn’t wait and because she couldn’t wait, entered the pool, not via the steps like everyone else, but just by hopping over the poolside because it was nearer. Unfortunately, it was a bit deeper than she anticipated, and instead more or less dunked herself under the water losing her cap and goggles and dignity. It could well have been karma at work, on the back of the fact that she didn’t shower before she fell, rather loudly, in… Learning by her mistake I chose to shower and then take the steps, because if anyone were to cock up getting into a pool, hands down (literally) it would be me!

Usually when I went swimming in a pool I got in and swam without even so much as registering my surroundings. I was there to train for something or other, and just want to get in and get on with it, however there was something about Thames Lido that made me not want to plough up and down this pool at high speed, but to take in my surroundings, and so instead, and because I was no good at breaststroke, did a rather random stroke that was a cross between doggy paddle and I have no clue what, which allowed me to savour the atmosphere (bit too whimsical? Probably.), I mean, if someone had gone to the trouble of spending four years and £3.5million restoring this amazing place, then the least I could do was to appreciate their efforts, and it was so lovely to be swimming outside in this suburban bolt hole. The heated pool made a lovely change from chillier lake water I was used to, and as I was confident that there would absolutely not be any aquatic livestock in the water, so what was the worst that could happen? A leaf attack?

After a lovely long ‘swim’ Shark was worried we wouldn’t have enough time to try anything else if we didn’t get a move on, and decided that we should immediately get out pf the pool and head to the hot tub. When it came to be getting out of water, I have learned that rushing to get out, whether pool or open water, would without doubt end in either a spectacular loss of dignity, or worse, a toenail.

No-one was in the hot tub, and as there was no-one else in it, we spent a couple of minutes relaxing before I decided that it was it was the perfect size to fulfil one of this year’s self-improvement challenges – to swim a length of butterfly in a pool, and because I didn’t actually specify how long that length had to be, I saw no reason to not do it in a ‘pool’ that was approximately 3.5 metres long. After all, a length was a length, right? After only one practice run under my belt, Shark strongly advised that I abort my mission on safety grounds, or on the likelihood that it would get us evicted - thrown out onto the streets of Reading wearing nothing but our costumes, and try again another time… Like when she wasn’t there, but I was determined, and Shark decided that if I was to do it, I was on my own and she would have no part in it. She took herself off to the sauna. Probably to laugh from there. 

Two butterfly strokes later and my challenge was complete. It was actually easier than I thought it would be, and I also managed to not graze my arms on either of the sides of the very narrow 'pool' too, which I consider a great accomplishment, as I have the wingspan of an albatross, and grazed knuckles (and arms and shoulders and even ear - best not to ask), usually from lane ropes, were a regular hazard for me. All this excessive training was tiring and with the excitement of achieving such a difficult challenge, I decided I would join Shark in the sauna for some well deserved R&R. 

It was really quite warm in there (working well). I preferred it to be a little cooler, probably an age thing, but couldn’t remember whether adding water to the coals actually made it even hotter or would make it colder, and because Shark couldn’t either, and we were unable to ask Siri, as we were on a technology free afternoon, Shark decided to throw caution to the wind and added a couple of ladles full to the coals, resulting in her giving herself a free steam facial at the same time, and making not one bit of difference to the temperature. 

After not very long, I decided we were not cut out for that kind of heat after all, and decided that rather than melt, I preferred the less hot café. Shark was hoping for a relaxing moment to people watch and enjoy the peace, but was unable to find it, as I was far too "fidgety and annoying." She decided that she would come with me back to the cafe after I reminded her of the 'full Lido experience' we had promised ourselves included more coffee and edible treats. On the way out, completely by accident, Shark fortuitously discovered some cold showers, and because we were going to be doing a Channel Relay next year, she felt that this would be an excellent way to acclimatise, and that we should make the most of the opportunity. I agreed, and selflessly suggested that because this was her (LARGE) birthday treat, as well as her suggestion, she should go first and ‘test the water’ as it were. A seriously terrible attempt at negotiating under the bucket ensued, until she decided to end any further discussions by pulling the chain and drenching us both in freezing water.

2 deliberate and 1 very unexpected deluge later we realised that it was getting nearer to dinner time, and because I was ruled by stomach, and as Shark would vouch safe, that if I wasn’t fed regularly I got a little grumpy, we decided it best to head for the showers. On seeing the mess we’d made, Shark left rather swiftly to "go and sort us some towels" whilst I was left to squeegee up the excessive water we managed to get absolutely everywhere because the Mrs Hinch in me would not allow me to leave it. Several long minutes later, whist Sharks hit the showers, I was still cleaning up, feeling a little like Cinderella to be honest! 

After making the most of the complementary facilities in the boudoir (which made a lovely change from the usual lack of facilities when open water swimming), we headed for the restaurant, and a post swim feast, including some celebratory drinks and yet more amazing sweet treats. I was struck yet again at what a lovely, special place this was, not only did it have my favourite thing ever - a cappuccino with a coffee rating of 10/10, and the adage of a great outdoor swimming pool too, but a warm and welcoming feel about it. I honestly didn't want to leave and go back to the hotel  - and our room without a view!

Just not quite ready to give up my wetsuit...

To be honest, I wasn't feeling all that optimistic driving to the lake that the water temperature would be all that warm. The thermometer in my car was reading the air temperature at just 7oc, and whilst swim buddy and I had made the joint decision, to swim skins this season for as long as we could endure, I had packed my wetsuit -  just in case the new Beast from the East decided to make an unexpected early appearance. 

As good fortune would have it, the Beast didn't arrive unseasonably early, but despite this, I decided that since I had taken the trouble to pack my wetsuit in the first place, that I would wear it anyway, and I felt that swim buddy would probably be cross if I were to miss our next swim together on account of me catching a bit of a chill. AND swim buddy was on holiday anyway, somewhere nearer the equator where the sun shone and the water was warm, and wetsuits were absolutely not needed... and as she wasn't there, she would never know I had broken our pinky promise quite so early into the winter season!

Although cold, it was a beautiful day. The sky was clear all bar the one solitary (small) cloud and what looked like a kettle of vultures swarming overhead. I was reliably informed by Mike that they were in fact just some fat geese that looked a little indecisive as to whether to land or not. I hoped not! I had no idea who was right, but as I suspected that Mike was probably more of an ornithologist than I was, decided it must be him.

Ready to go, I headed for the shoreline which unfortunately was shrouded in a bit of a sea fret, along with all of the lake. This did not phase me, in fact, I was delighted because I knew that this meant one thing - the temperature in the lake was warmer than the air temperature! And yet even though I knew that the water was actually not so cold at 16.5oc, I decided that taking my wetsuit off again after the onerous struggle it took to get the damn thing on in the first place, was asking a lot. The extra flexibility required to get in off again would no doubt sap me of any remaining energy I had left from putting it on in the first place. Energy that would be better spent swimming for example!

Despite being ready, by the time I had faffed about, caught up with my swim family, tried to (unsuccessfully) talk them into being part of a Channel Relay team and ate two slices of flapjack, the mist had lifted and the overweight geese had left. I entered the lake as carefully as I could, but still managed to trip over my own toe and being unable to style it out, scrambled to stay upright, and instead sank into the lake sideways, dislodging my goggles and making a complete twit of myself (and not for the first time). 

I swam on without looking back (I was completely mortified, despite this being a very typical lake entry of mine), but after only 2 laps I was contemplating getting out, for no reason in particular other than my goggles just kept fogged up, and was fed up of stopping to decipher whether it was that the goggles needed sorting, or to check that it wasn't the sea fret returning. In fact, they were fogging so badly that the only reason I knew I had actually finished was when I hit the final buoy with my arm!

I looked at my watch, and despite the accurate finish on my last lap, my watch revealed that I had actually managed to swim 1,789 metres of a 1,600 metre course, and I still needed to swim 2 more laps. As luck would have it, as I finished my second lap, and de-fogged my goggles for the gazillionth time, I noticed Bake Off Chris was in the water, and by mutual agreement we decided to swim a 'steady' lap, and set off at a nice comfortable pace. 200 metres on, and Chris suddenly sprinted ahead. Confused, and because I couldn't rule out the fact that he could be sprinting away from a giant, leg eating fish, I followed him. I realised quite quickly that I would be unable to keep up, and decided that I would use the excuse of my fogged goggles to stop and catch my breath, despite the possibility of it meaning I could encounter whatever it was that he may have been swimming away from... As I rolled onto my back and lifted my goggles, it was then that I noticed a familiar sight swimming towards me... It was either BakeOff Chris's doppelgänger, or the real Bake Off Chris?!? Without the goggle fog, I realised that I hadn't been chasing after Chris as he wind sprinted round the lake, but an imposter, who, as it turned out, also happened to be one of the elite athletes that also swam in the lake. I was really relieved, and thought it appropriate to give myself a pat on the back for keeping up with him for all of 2 seconds (max). It was sometimes the little things (or short in this case)!

The final lap I decided that I would up my pace again, absolutely not the (very brief) olympic pace of the last one, but I did want to see what time I could get for a lap. All was going well, and I even managed to up my pace further after seeing something that I initially thought looked very crocodile shaped, but turned out to be a large twig. As I approached the far end of the lake and the buoy on the corner, I noticed a group of swimmers next to it. Because I was timing myself, and because based on the previous imprecise 2 laps which clearly highlighted that I clearly had accuracy problems, I decided that to go round the outside of them would probably add a lot of time, and so decided to go round the inside of the buoy, after all, this wasn't technically a race, and it also wasn't technically illegal, so couldn't be disqualified or arrested for it. I figured that the worst that could happen was that Leon would frown at me, and as it was at the far end of the lake full of other swimmers, the chances of me getting away with it, I felt, were extremely high. 

Decision made, I made my (non-illegal) move, and just when I thought I'd got away with it, I heard a voice I would recognise anywhere (my Coach) yelling to me. I responded by waving mid stroke, but carried on, hoping that despite the many, many hours of coaching and stroke analysis, he had suddenly developed a bout of amnesia and wouldn't recognise it as me. 

I swam on, thinking I'd managed it, but I could have been no more than 20 strokes on, when I felt something grab my ankle. This was the moment that I think it was safe to say, that in a surprise ambush/attack situation, despite all the multiple practice response runs I had ever done in my head, I discovered I would be 100% utterly useless! 

I responded to the attack by calmly, but firmly kicking away my attacker, whilst calling for help at the top of my voice, alerting others to my plight and warning them all of the danger, after which I was hailed a hero and received many a pat on the back for my quick thinking and bravery -  is what I would liked to have told you happened, but sadly that would be a big fat lie. What actually happened was that first of all I attempted to stop my watch (crucial survival stuff), and then yelling a lots of words that did not complete a sentence, but included lots of long sweary words, whilst going into complete panic mode and instead of kicking off my attacker, I decided to make a swim for it, hoping that it would either naturally dislodge or decide that I was not worth the effort, and instead choose to eat the several swimmers next to the buoy I had just passed, including Coach! 

Several strokes on, and the vice like grip on my ankle was still there, and I wasn't actually moving. I realised that it was all pointless, and quite exhausting trying to resist it any longer, and so just stopped to face my aquatic assailant, bracing myself I turned to find Jane firmly attached to my ankle. Not the crocodile, or vulture, nemeses swan, lake shark, or worse - Coach, that I was expecting it to be. She had been swimming round with coach and wanted a chat. I was so relieved it was her rather than any of the aforementioned, that I almost hugged her, before realising that enthusiastic hugging in a lake could be dangerous, before remembering that she had actually frightened the living daylights out of me in the first place and didn't actually deserve one!

Once I had pulled myself together (stopped hyperventilating), and had a quick chat with Coach and Jane, I set off again. I went to restart my watch, only to find that in all the frenzy I hadn't turned it off after all, and my minutes/100m time was approaching the 4 minute mark, and there was also no recording of the first half of the swim at all, which incidentally, would probably have been the fastest one I had ever recorded - goes without saying, and so I made the decision to swim slowly back to the shoreline as nothing good had come so far from rushing. 

Thankfully, apart from a leaf landing on me, the remainder of the last lap was event free. I got out to find Karen at the ready wanting a photo of us getting out of the lake. After a lot of minutes finding the perfect photo where we both didn't look either exhausted from the swim (me) or non-athletic (me again - because I was not, and never would be an athlete) I finally remembered that a photo of me in a wetsuit was rather incriminating, as I was supposed to be in skins... I wasn't entirely confident at that moment that I would get away with it after all!



Once again, thanks for reading, and for more regular updates on my swimming shenanigans, please follow me on social media. Just look for Open Water Woman.

Also, you can also find me on YouTube as Open Water Woman, where I do regular vlogs about my swims.  

21 miles that is 2 Way Windermere - DONE!

All the training was done, and if Coach was to be believed, I was ready. I’d put the hours in, done sufficient carbing up (mostly of the cake variety), looked after myself (basically refused to do any housework for the past two weeks for fear of a household appliance related injury) and my feeding plan had been, well... planned really. I had bought several spare goggles (three), swimming costume and a box of surgical gloves as well as an entire week’s shopping budget on celebratory cake for afterwards.

Unfortunately, on the drive up to the Lakes, I received the news that Coach couldn’t join me for the swim, even though I needed him on the boat to remind me to think about my left arm when I was tired, and to watch my hand entry, and to count my stroke rate, basically, I thought it was pretty much going to be a fourteen hour coached swimming lesson! Coach assured me that his replacement would do an equally good job, and him not being there in person would not affect my swimming at all. Immediately after, in panic I called Shark and told her that unless she broke a limb she absolutely had to still be there on the boat… and even if she did break one, she had to at least try and make it. 

The two hour drive up to the Lakes had been a mixture of light and heavy, thundery downpours. The horrid weather had been a concern all week. I had pretty much checked at least four times daily in the week leading up to it hoping that the weather would take a turn for the better. I had several weather Apps on the go and the plan was to look at them all and go with the most favourable, but they all told the same story. Heavy rain and thunder every day, with the exception of Monday. The day of my swim, however as the day neared, this changed from cloudy to sunny to rainy and back again, and because when I set off all the Apps forecast rain for the day, I didn’t bother to pack any suntan lotion. I wouldn’t mind, but I had bought some reef-friendly stuff too – especially (not that there are any reefs in Lake Windermere that I knew of). 

Inclement and indecisive weather conditions.

Fingers crossed!

The night before the swim I laid out all of the things I needed for on the boat, and checked I had all my multiple spares. There was a lot, and because I had been told that room on the boat was tight, had to squish them all into one bag because there was absolutely no room whatsoever in my other one. That was full of food because regardless of my very carefully planned feeding plan, I had packed multiple extras of everything in there too!

I was woken early on the morning of the swim by my alarm. I was both surprised (it made me jump) and delighted. I hadn’t expected to get a wink of sleep. I was meeting the boat at Fell Foot at seven AM, and wanted to have a hearty breakfast before I started. I decided against having the bacon and egg sandwich that I had originally planned, on the back of the fact that the previous night I had been cooking pasta carbonara, which incidentally was not the best idea I had had, on account that my daughter’s boyfriend’s mum was Italian, and as my carbonara was average at best, it would never compare. And in true form, I underestimated the heat of the grill (easily done in an unfamiliar kitchen), and managed to burn the pancetta, and nearly the whole of the apartment block down in the process! All of the fire alarms went off and alerted everyone in the near vicinity of my ‘a bit sh*t’ cooking skills. It was decided by unanimous decision that I should absolutely NOT cook bacon for breakfast. I agreed. 

After I had made my sandwiches for the swim, prepared my hot Ribena and re- emptied my bag to check for the hundredth time that I had everything, including my spare of everything, and my spare spare. I was ready. I met Shark outside, where I found her wet weather appropriately dressed, and carrying three bags. Three! I reminded her that room on the boat was tight, and actually, what did she need three bags for? She pulled out a pair of fishing waders, an Aron jumper and two books, one entitled The Compete Guide to knots and the other Intrepid Voyages out of one, and in the other two she had enough food to sustain a family of five for the day, a packet of blister plasters, a huge tub of Vaseline, some surgical gloves, spare Fat Rascals, a humongous phone charger and some welly socks. All essential stuff for several hours on a boat. I did noticed the absence of a special blue bucket or a Portaloo, but knew that because she usually couldn’t go from my house to hers without needing to go, which was only a fifteen minute drive, and she was as organised as I was, that she would have the whole ‘how to go to the toilet on a small boat, whilst in the middle of a lake’ thing covered, even if I couldn’t see any obvious evidence of it. Shark also announced earlier in the week that she had been known to suffer from a bit of motion sickness, like on every journey over an hour! She assured me she had it covered with medication, an anti-sickness wrist band, some ginger ale and had been practicing some breathing techniques having ruled out the possibility of being able to have a lie down on the small boat with two other people and several large bags taking up all the spare room. I just requested that if she were to ACTUALLY be sick that she could be considerate and do it on the opposite side to where I was swimming. 

We arrived lakeside at seven in the morning to beautiful sunshine, and I realised that not bringing the suntan lotion would mean that I was going to end up with possibly burnt hands and face. Rookie error! Lake Windermere was a millpond. There was not a ripple to be seen. It was going to be a beautiful (sunny) day after all, all day according to my Apps. I had checked twice already today. I handed my bags to the crew on the boat and got ready. I had my safety briefing, whilst at the same time being slathered in a ton of Vaseline and being shoehorned into my wetsuit, before I was good to go. This was it. Twenty-one miles to go!

One safety briefing later, I'm ready
Leon is absolutely not pushing me in on this pic!

Family and friends had come to wave me off and cheer me on. I managed to successfully get down the slipway (or the walkway bit next to it) and in without breaking my neck or tripping. So far so good, and after several very enthusiastic waves and an unexpected mouthful of lake water, I was off. It was a minute or two in, when the penny dropped that I had a good fourteen hours of swimming still ahead of me still, and suddenly it felt very overwhelming. I wondered whether now would be too late to reconsider or have second thoughts, but decided on the back of the fact that to take my wetsuit off now would be exceptionally messy, that it was!

I set off at a steady pace, enjoying how tranquil it was. It felt like we were the only people on the lake. Shark pointed out to me that there was a row of feathers almost guiding the way, which made me smile, before Mike (skipper) informed us of the cheery reality that there would probably be a featherless dead bird somewhere nearby, as there was an awful lot in one place, ruining what was otherwise a lovely moment. 

Perfect start!

I had asked family and friends for good luck and encouraging messages before the swim for Shark to read out to me at each feed, and it was lovely to hear them, especially the one from my brother, which really made me laugh and also made me choke on my drink. I had no idea whether this was his intention, but when we were younger I know it absolutely would have been! Unbeknown to me Shark had also contacted several other people that I knew nothing about, and so when she read out one from Jaffa Cakes, I was beside myself. They added in their message that I should imagine all the Jaffa Cakes waiting for me at the end, and I understood this as they would be getting a full truck load – all for me- sent up to the Lake District for my finish, and as a direct result of this, put my back into it a bit more, after all, could there be a better incentive to finish quickly? 

The water was mostly calm for the first half, except when the ferries passed. I had taken the time to stop and tread water a few times to enjoy the views, watch some of the military aircraft that went over, hoping they were actually part of the Red Arrows display (they weren’t) oh, and to swallow the feather I accidentally breathed in! At around half way, I had to stop to wait for the cross ferry to pass because basically, it would have been really careless of me to be unable to finish the swim because I had swum into the rather large boat. Instead I used this opportunity to feed, to listen to some feedback from Coach (on the phone) and to wave frantically to my family and friends were on the shore line having repositioned themselves further up the lake, and as it turned out (I found out afterwards), in someone’s lakeside front garden, I suspected, but couldn’t be sure, that they was not entirely there by invite, but I was so happy to see them and was prepared to overlook their possible trespass.

Me - sticking to front crawl!

As I had time on my hands, and because they had taken the time to come and cheer me on, I decided to treat them and to use the opportunity to show them I was more than just front crawl, by performing a little swim medley whilst I waited for the ferry to pass, unfortunately, after one stroke of butterfly I realised that I actually hadn’t done butterfly in well over thirty five years, back when I was young and agile, and I also remembered that despite being young and agile, I wasn’t all that great at it back then either! I quickly rethought the medley idea in favour of sticking to a hundred percent front crawl to avoid injury or humiliation, or possibly both!

As part of my swim plan, I had decided that I would have two paracetamol every four hours and one ibuprofen every four hours (in short, I am hypermobile, and because of this on long swims I get really stiff and am prone to joint pain). Taking painkillers just took the edge off and allowed me to continue pain free. Keeping a log of when I had had them, and giving it to me was yet another one of Shark’s jobs at the relevant feed stops. All very straight forwards you would think, and yet between us, and I couldn’t tell you who was at fault, somehow we managed to drop one of the tablets down the front of my exceptionally tight wetsuit. It was a complete mystery as to how we managed it, but rummaging around the front of my highly Vaselined wetsuit to try and find it, was not on the cards, and so by mutual decision we left it (found partially melted at the end of the swim rather randomly near my left hip?!?!).

The need for Shark to have to furtle down the front of my wetsuit came soon enough though. Throughout my training I had struggled with chafing on my neck, I’d even bought a new wetsuit in the hopes that it would stop rubbing, however I knew that swimming for this length of time I was unlikely to come away unscathed and so needed to come up with an anti-chafing swim plan to prevent my neck from becoming really sore and sparing myself the quizzical glances that came with having a very red and dubious looking mark on my neck… There were times during training I also had problems with chafing under my right arm, and in the interest of prevention, required as much attention as my neck did. Unfortunately for Shark, during this swim, this would require some quite acrobatic maneuverers to ensure that she hit the right spot. This was achieved by a combination of some quite impressive gymnastic moves (on my part), and also required her to become a contortionist, whilst not capsizing the boat or drowning me at the same time. She reminded me that it wasn’t ideal attempting to shove her (surgical gloved) Vaselined hand down the front of my wetsuit, and nor was it a job she realised would be bestowed on her when she offered to come with me, and in truth, I may have negated to tell her for fear that she may say absolutely no way... I know I would have! Unfortunately though, it was far too late in the day to think of retracting her offer, and so I informed her it was no picnic for me either AND, in an attempt to Top Trump her, I reminded her that I was swimming a very long way too!

All of the boat crew (Angela, Mike, Joe and Jonty) were first aid trained, and Shark was also a nurse, so I well and truly had any medical emergency covered by some highly qualified folks. Throughout the whole swim, the team in the boat were constantly checking for signs that all was not well with me. These included some basic questions that I would have no trouble answering (thank goodness there were no maths ones in there, they would have been hauling me out for the wrong reasons!), as well as other checks, things like my stroke rate and coordination. The tablet down the wetsuit was a fine example of lack of coordination however, I was prepared to contest this, and in fact, just blame Shark entirely if necessary!

Throughout the swim so far, I had diligently followed my feeding plan, which had been carefully put together based on nutritional know how (absolutely none of which was mine) and many, many trials. This was all but the last one on the first leg, when I decided that I didn’t like drinking 250ml of lemon and lime flavoured electrolyte anymore, in fact at this point even 1ml was a ml too many. I had instructed Shark to ignore me if I decided against something that was on the carefully compiled, tried and tested food and drinks list and insist that I eat or drink it ignoring any argument I put forwards (goes without saying that this did not include throwing up because of it), by any means necessary, something I regretted saying once I had made the decision I didn’t want the drink ever again. I can confirm that she did ignore me. She held her own very well and informed me that the boat would be going nowhere until I had drunk it and that she would cheerfully throw it down my neck considering it firmly in the ‘by any means necessary’ category if I didn’t drink it. She raised an eyebrow expecting me to challenge her, but despite me deciding that I never ever wanted to drink lemon and lime flavoured stuff ever again, drank it, after all, that was why I had a feeding plan!

After this feed, I noticed that Mike had put on his Swimzi and was putting on some gloves. As a child, my dad only ever put on driving gloves for one reason. Atrocious weather conditions. I prepared myself for the worst, however the sun still shone, and I could see no sign of imminent rain, thunder, snow or ice, it had just become a little choppier, which unfortunately slowed my pace down somewhat. According to Shark, that coat had become a very welcome wind break. I was unaware that the wind had picked up that much, but it would explain the more stately pace I was now swimming at. 

Despite the slow pace, thanks to the headwind, and possibly tired arms, finally we were approaching Low Wood Bay, at which point I knew there was about an hour to go until we reached Ambleside and the halfway mark. I was especially looking forward to this because I had promised myself that this feed, because it marked the half way point, that I would celebrate with some (lots of) Jaffa Cakes AND because, as my family had told me they were decamping to the pub and jetty at Ambleside, where they would bring me a well deserved, and very welcome cappuccino (made with skimmed milk though… full fat milk and I were not compatible horizontally my trials uncovered), and I was very excited about that. 

After seven hours I finally arrived at Ambleside. The second half of the first half had been a little choppier, and we had lost some time. I stopped next to the jetty whilst they swapped the crew and refuelled. This feed was to be one of my favourites so far, (probably a packet of) Jaffa Cakes and a cappuccino. As everyone knew that I absolutely loved Jaffa Cakes, I expected to be handed the whole packet and be left to it, after all, I could wolf one (packet) down in minutes. My friend Helen was put in charge of feed for this stop, and handed me a single, solitary Jaffa Cake. One! Fortunately for me, Shark was on hand and explained that I was best just being given them all, for fear that I may become quite grumpy on the back of it. And she did, however I realised that eating every single one out of the packet, as tempting as it was, would not necessarily be the best idea, and so reluctantly handed back the packet after I’d eaten a respectable six. 

No sooner had I finished eating, when Leon came over to tell me that at the current pace, it would be dark when I finished, and therefore needed to up my pace for this next half. He informed me that I would have the wind with me for the first half, and to make the most of it. He also informed me that the boat was ready, and I had to go. I had no questions for him, other than enquiring as to the location of my coffee. Shark yelled that it was on the boat, and I realised at this point that there would be little hope of me having it anything other than luke warm at best at the next feed stop.

As the second part of the swim progressed it became obvious that the precision that I very often showed, in fact prided myself on, during training swims had disappeared. Usually I was able to swim to a buoy with such precision that I usually hit it with one of several body parts, usually my hand or head or face, which I think was a testament to my pinpoint accuracy, however today I seemed unable to master it. After several frustrating miles, I finally realised that bilateral breathing wasn’t working for me, and resorted to breathing only to my left every four strokes. Sadly, this meant that my view was only ever the side of the boat rather than the spectacular scenery, but be that as it may, staying close to the boat really mattered today, for safety reasons, so I didn’t veer off course and so I didn’t lose them as the sky darkened, also so I didn’t swim even a metre more than I needed to. This swim was long enough as it was!

Overtaking one of several yachts (all stationary)!

Again, the first half I was swimming faster than ever. It was the thought of not being able to complete it because it was dark that was at the forefront of my mind, however as we passed the ferry for the final leg, the wind turned against us again, and I found myself once again with a headwind. It wasn’t the end of the world, and conditions were actually okay, if a bit choppier, but it wasn’t what I needed when I was already really tired and just wanted to finish the swim, preferably where I could actually see the finish.

With a couple of hours left the night really began to draw in. I noticed Shark and Jonty looking skywards and pointing. This was it. Finally, the Red arrows had arrived, and whilst I would have imagined that dusk was not the best time for their audience (me) to appreciate and enjoy the display fully, because basically I couldn’t see. Nonetheless, better late than never, and so in order to have the best view I decided on a stint of backstroke, but yet when I looked I couldn’t see anything red, or moving at a fast speed, or any formation smoke or anything else for that matter. The only thing in the sky was some clouds. Bemused, I stopped swimming and gave Shark a quizzical look. She again pointed to the sky and said “that cloud looks like a horse. How cool is that?” Absolutely NOT what I was expecting. I told her that I expected it to be the Red Arrows fly over I wanted with the amount of attention they had given it. Shark told me that she felt that I would be better putting the thought of them arriving out of my mind because despite her best efforts (an e-mail) she was still waiting for a response from them! She went back to cloud watching whilst I swam on. I blame Jonty for this new fascination with cloud formations. Shark has never showed signs of interestedness before. 

With an hour and a half to go the boat abruptly stopped. Either that was the fastest hour I had ever swum, and I won’t lie, for a second I was absolutely delighted, or more than likely something was amiss. I stopped and Shark leaned over the side of the boat, nearly causing it to capsize on top of me, and practically rammed a gel and several Jelly Babies down my throat. She then handed me a drink and went on to explain that she had received a phone call from Leon informing her that lightning had been seen in the distance inland, and that if it came over the lake, he would pull the swim. Shark had been instructed to tell me that I needed to swim on as fast as I could to avoid this. I nodded, but wasn’t entirely sure how fast fast actually was after swimming for over twelve hours already, but knowing that there was absolutely no way I could let a storm prevent me from finishing, I garnered some strength from somewhere (probably the excess sugar) and pressed on. 

That last hour and a half was by far the toughest, and not just because I was swimming on some very tired arms, but I just kept thinking what if it meant I couldn’t finish, before realising that those kind of thoughts were not healthy or actually helpful. I had not just swum nineteen miles to be told that I couldn’t swim the last two. I was not letting my friend, or the charity down, and so at a speed not too much slower than Michael Phelps, I swam on. It was quite an impressive pace I might add, which in the interest of honesty, may have also been because the water had become quite inky and as I was not a lover of swimming in the dark because I didn’t like surprises, and if I were going to be swam into, get eaten or pecked, I’d rather at the very least be able to have an even playing field as it were and be able to see it coming and get ready to put up a good fight (not that I would actually know what to do in such circumstances other than flee). It was safe to say, that the dark definitely contributed quite a lot to the quickened pace.

I knew I was nearly there when finally, after an hour and a half of exhausting arm turning, I was told that I needed to swim between two boats and towards the jetty. I couldn’t actually see the jetty in the dark, but was helped to swim myself the right way by my daughter yelling “land ahoy!” very loudly. I could also hear a lot of cheers, yells and noise which I followed until I could actually see the jetty (I was really close), and after some direction from Leon, who was standing on the edge, finally my knee felt land. In a flourish I stood up, and very unlike me, sort of punched the air. I couldn’t be altogether sure whether this was because I had done it, or because I had managed to do the almost impossible - standing up without keeling over or falling over sideways! Unaided, I hauled myself out of the water and onto the side of the slipway where it all began fourteen hours earlier. 

I was greeted with cheers, rather forceful pat on the backs, an air born lift and multiple cuddles. A DryRobe was thrown over me, and my initial thought was that rather than it being put on me to keep me warm, I was instead being kidnapped. It was immediately followed by an embrace by a rather excited Karen, who proceeded to squeeze what was left of the life out of me as I struggled to breath! On the phone my mum was crying, and my oldest friend Nicki was on FaceTime cheering. One of my friends, Helen, had made a huge banner that said, ‘Windermere Done!’ And I was presented with a very lovely trophy (my first ever), a certificate and a medal... that I have taken to wearing on a daily basis ever since!

Pride of place on my mantelpiece.

Celebrating with coffee and Fat Rascals.

And, FYI - the truck load of Jaffa Cakes? Unfortunately, I am still waiting for it to arrive, but I live in hope, and in the meantime, I shall continue to keep the local Jaffa Cake economy afloat with my multiple and many purchases!

Finally, not only did swim the 21 miles that is 2 Way Windermere, I also fulfilled a promise to my dying friend to raise money for the hospice that took care of her. Last count it was £4,054, something of which I am most proud of. 

2 Way Windermere included the following:

Fish sighting- 0

Swans- 0 (not even nemesis)
Skein of geese- 2

Eurofighters- 7

Helicopters- 4

Unidentified flying things (NOT UFO’s)- 2

Red Arrows- 0

Rainbows- 1

Feathers – 100’s

Dead, featherless birds – 0

Once again, thanks for reading, and for more regular updates on my swimming shenanigans, please follow me on social media. Just look for Open Water Woman.

Also, you can also find me on YouTube as Open Water Woman, where I do regular vlogs about my swims.