'A review' of the IISA 5th World Championships -Samoens 2023

 

First swim done!
Celebrating drinking tea in the jacuzzi

Where to start...

It ought to be with the swimming part. Write about how amazing it was (and it was), how I glided through the water without making even a splash (I didn't), and how effortless and efficient I was in the water after several months of training (I wasn't), but I'm not. I'm instead starting with the swimming costume...mostly because it features heavily.

I'll wager that all professional swimmers know that competition swimwear is designed to be tight. As a non-professional swimmer (although I still have my sights on this) I didn't, and as our costumes had been delivered straight to the event, there had been no time to try it on beforehand. I had accurately measured everywhere, and ordered the size accordingly, however being a complete beginner at all of this, unbeknown to me, it turned out that racing swimwear is meant to be super tight fitting. This is because it's designed to give a compressive fit, making it really, really tough, borderline impossible if you're me, to even get it over your knees without incident... To be honest, I feared that even the Borrowers would have struggled! Anyhow, after 40 minutes of showcasing some pretty impressive flexibility and unusual positions that any contortionist would appreciate, I was (for the most part) in. I feared I would need to either spend the whole weekend wearing it as I was uncertain as to whether I would be able to repeat the same choreographed performance needed to be repeated on one race day, let alone both, or would need to consider the more drastic action of needing to remove internal organs...I decided on the lesser serious choice, and based on the back of the struggle, also that my pre-swim MO of heavy carb loading would have to cease until after my last swim. 

Race day, and I was up early. After a final medical check, I was given the green light, well sticker actually, to swim. I walked into the ice village hall to find many swimmers had already arrived and were doing some quite strenuous warm ups. I felt pretty confident that my walk to the venue carrying a swim bag would be a good alternative to a more structured warm up, and I based this on the fact that my bag was far too heavy with far too much kit that I didn't really need,  as well as a ton of food (mostly Fat Rascals - if you know you know, if you don't Google them... THE best food ever (IMO), which I would not be able to eat based on the aforementioned swimming costume 'issue.' 

I'd been there for a short while when Jonty informed me that Stu (also known by his other name; Coach Ragnar - who coached me during my Windermere 2 way swim) had just walked in. I knew he was joking as we had seen him the week before and he hadn't mentioned it, only he wasn't joking. There he was stood in front of me as large as life telling me he had come to give me a last minute pep talk. I'm still not entirely sure whether this was actually why he was there, but the pep talk was gratefully received, even if I forgot everything he had told me during the race... too many other things to think about, like getting in in one piece and not breaking anything, remembering the 'do not touch the ladder' rule and how to swim... 

After settling in, locating the coffee tent, and being briefed on the why's/wherefores ect, I was ready for my first race. It wasn't long before we were called, and that's when my sartorial panic set in. What would I go to poolside wearing? Just my coat? coat and towelling robe? Just CROCS? CROCS and socks?Eventually, I decided to throw on everything, which I thought was a great idea (not because of how stylish the whole outfit looked, but because with this many layers, there no way I would get cold). I was poolside when I quickly realised that I was very overdressed for the expected time between the announcement to 'disrobe' and 'get in the water," which was incidentally a nanosecond. My fellow swimmers were waiting by the ladder to get in, waiting for me as I attempted to take off my robe without dislodging my goggle, at speed, along with my footwear, gloves and coat. Goes without saying that I was all flustered by the time I eventually got to the ladder. Despite this, I knew I needed to focus, and quickly... wooden stairs and I have history - one which included me headbutting a wall at a.n.other swim venue many moons ago. I needed to have my wits about me in order to not have a repeat performance whilst a crowd watched on.

 

Again, within miliseconds of successfully entering the water the buzzer went off and we were swimming. Interestingly, I really didn't feel the coldness of the water (3.7 degrees celcius), which my left eye really appreciated as it was submerged in it for the duration of the swim thanks to my aforementioned dislodged goggle, which began leaking the second I put my head in. Despite this, all the hours, days, months of training, and the moment was finally here, and gosh it was swift. It felt like it was over in a heartbeat, before I knew it the race was finished. 

I had managed to avoid the disqualifying ladder, and finish the race in what was for me a pretty decent time (obviously not in terms of the faster swimmer's standards, but for me, I was thrilled and in my excitement, combined probably with a bit of relief that I hadn't cocked it up, I lost my step getting out, grazing my nose on the side of the pool. It has been noted before that I am rarely the epitome of style and grace, and this would be yet another one of those occasions where once again I was not. Nonetheless, I couldn't have cared less, I was jubilant, and once I had warmed up, I headed over to the jacuzzis where I partied hard for the next 20 minutes, I say partied hard, I sat in it with Cathy Monro, or Fast Cath(y) as I named her, on account that she was an incredibly fast fellow swimmer in my heat, basically gold medal AND world record holder in her age category kind of fast (and also called Cathy, which I hope goes without saying), with a cup of tea talking about the swim, swimming in general and debating as to whether cake (me) or scones (Fast Cath (y)) were the ultimate post-swim treat. Cathy is lovely, as well as fast, but (IMO) my choice of treat by far exceeded hers. And less messy. 

Tea in the jacuzzi

Reflecting on it, I realised that I had not followed the race plan I had practiced countless times in the weeks leading up to the swim. The only thing I did the whole swim was to chant (in my head, obviously - ACTUALLY saying it would have resulted in me drinking half the lake. Also, they had drone coverage, it would have looked weird) 'do not get disqualified by touching the ladder,' which definitely worked, so there's that. I knew our relay was soon after, and so had quick bite to eat (replenishing calories obviously) of 3 chocolate biscuits, 1 slice of French apple tart and a substantial amount of very strong coffee (there's extensive research conducted that found that caffeine consumption is associated with an increase in performance, and therefore I was expecting great things in the relay...). You would be correct in thinking that after my swimming costume issued that I should probably not eat quite as much, and you'd be right, but I wouldn't be wearing it for the relay, on account that it was still wet. Instead, I would be wearing my spare, non-internal organ squashing costume - or so I thought at the time, and after I had finished, I was very quickly informed that any photos taken of the swim we would look more 'teamly' if we were all wearing our official GB costumes and so very reluctantly, and slowly, put it back on. It wasn't long after when Jonty announced that the VIP relay would be in 30 minutes, and asked as to where Lara (one of our teammates) was. Some unsuccessful frantic and panicked phone calls, texts, announcements on the tannoy followed, with still no sign, before eventually she appeared looking sightly dishevelled with her muddy costume in her hand. Unbeknown to us, she had finished her swim, and whilst undressing had taken a tumble, droppping her costume in the mud as she had gone to grab one of the Swimzi flags in a bid to save herself from hurting herself, and any public humiliation. Her tactic didn't quite pay off, and she informed us that she 'went down like a sack of potatoes,' not naked I should add, thankfully she was wearing her changing robe, swim coat, a woollen deetstalker and a leg warmer/ugg combination, before hitting the deck and hadn't realised that whilst she was busy trying to style the whole incident out to the gathering crowd, she had eleventy billion missed calls and messages asking her to hurry back, as we needed to head to the pre-race holding area. 

She eventually arrived in a flurry, and after a quick reminder from Jonty that unless she was planning on swimming naked, which would definitely result in an immediate disqualification for all the team, she would be best putting it on. I shot her a quick look. We had already dicussed how tight our costumes were, and both knew the odds of us getting her into it in the short space of time we had was slim, and would no doubt need to include some manhandling and possibly rejigging of her intestines to get her in. 

Before I go on, I first should explain the VIP relay. The relay consisted of 4 teams. 3 of the teams included some of the best of the best ice swimmers in the world, with a history of accomplishments, including; olympic medal winners, world record holders, the winner of the WOWSA Award for Woman of the Year, one of the world's 50 most adventurous open water women, the expedition leader of the Antarctic 2020 Internatonal swim, and the founder of IISA. The other team, the one I was in, consisted of 4 residents of Yorkshire with a shared passion for Fat Rascals. 

Anyhow, back to the enfolding drama. The team (Jonty, Emily and I dressed and ready to go, and Lara dressed in part, but definitely not ready for action) moved to the holding tent where several of the other teams swimmers were either talking strategy, warming up, having a quiet completetive moment (probably visualising their swim) and getting ready. Our team, on the other hand, were busily erecting a makeshift tent out of a towel and a swim coat to put around Lara as she put her still wet and muddy costume back on. After several failed attempts I joined her to assess the problem, and several frantic minutes later Lara emerged, looking no worse for wear (if you don't include the broken finger nail), with it securely on. 

Onto the swim. After discussing swim order, and of course the ladder rule, we decided to follow the lead of the other teams and talk tactics, however, after deciding that we couldn't think of any, we waited to get in. Swim order, first Lara, who did a pretty impressive first leg in breast stroke. Unfortunately, as all the other teams had opted for front crawl, and as they happen to be mostly olympians and ice swimming Titans, Emily, who was next in had a bit of catching up to do. A sterling effort followed, in fact Jonty slightly underestimated how fast she was and almost didn't get in the water in time (a bit trickier and time consuming to climb down a wooden ladder to get in with only 1 leg). Jonty was fast, and was holding his own racing against the other teams. Unfortunately, he was racing their 4th, and final swimmers, and as he completed his 2 lengths for me to swim our final leg, they had all finished and were getting out to celebrate, whilst I, on the other hand, had to swim 50 metres in the pool. On my own. With probably the whole village of Samoens watching. Several cameras. Oh, and a drone. I admit, as we were last anyway, and as I was about to swim it on my own, I would use this to practice my race plan for the following day's 50 metre swim and try to not cock it up by dislodging my goggles or swallowing half the lake. As I came to the end (avoiding the ladder at all costs obvs), I was pleased to see Jonty still in the water, and whilst I was touched that he had stayed in to cheer me in, he later admitted he was just having a 'rest break'... I cannot articulate how relieved I was (not a deliberate pun, but it fits) that my practice swim was successfully executed and not a drop of lake water was swallowed. 

Despite coming last, we were nonetheless over the moon, and celebrated with an impromptu photo shoot, lots of jumping up and down with our Yorkshire flag, and shared some Betty's biscuits in the jacuzzi. The sharing extended to rival team member Henri Kaarma, oh, and several other swimmers/supporters who also celebrated with us by also sharing the remainder of our biscuits, before dispersing once they had polished them off...

Team Frozen Roses and Henri Kaarma
celebrating 4th (and last) in the VIP relay

The final day, and my final swim. The 50 metres. My costume, towel and fur lined CROCS were now dry after spending the night on the ski boot drying contraption (note to self - fur lined CROCS are amazing if your feet are dry. Less amazing, and very tricky to get your feet into when they are wet and cold.  Also, when conditions underfoot are wet and muddy the risk of trenchfoot is high. 

The time of the swim had changed, and was now later leaving me time to chat with some of my fellow team mates, and when I say chat, I mean that several of them came over to help me eat some of my edible supplies under the pretext of 'chatting.' Anyhow, once suitable fuelled, my race was called, and I headed to the pen. This time I had ditched the socks as well as the towelling robe, and was more appropriately dressed for getting into the water at speed. The temperature was difinitely cooler than Saturday, and I was worried that despite me really not feeling yesterday's water temperature (I'm assured that it was the adrenalin that made it feel nearer to 20 degrees), I would feel it today. I needn't have worried, again the pace was so fast, and I really had no time to think about the temperature, I was too busy trying to remember to fit my goggles on correctly, to execute my swim plan, avoid the ladder, not slip and fal in and not cock it up in general really. 

The swim felt far more relaxed than yesterdays, and although definitely not a world record, was pretty speedy for me. I celebrated once again (once warmed through in the warming room) in the jacuzzi along with Fast Cath (y), Kate Steels (also fast) and Millie Bell (again, really fast), where we stayed until Cathy's hands went pruny and I declared I was ready for food.

And just like that, I had finished. No world records, no medals, (although IF I do this again, alongside my training, I will definately consider growing my nails really long to see of this helps with my placing. Don't want to miss a place by a milliseconds), but what I did have was a massive sense of accomplishment, pride and patriotism. 

Before I finish, I would like to say a massive thank you to my fellow Yorkshire swim camp members, Jonty Warneken, Lara Fawcett and Emily Smailes with whom I have had THE best time with. We have laughed until I nearly coughed up a lung, danced until I almost strained a limb, cheered until our throats hurt, shared several indecent exposure incidents (all Lara, I'd like to add), shared all of their amazing pre- and post swim snacks (not including the boiled egg - Lara) and they kindly forgave me when I shared none of my own (mostly because I ate them on the way to training camp), lost several ear plugs between us, 1 hat, 1 CROC, a pair of UGG boots and 3 socks (mostly down to the dog stealing them), talked and talked and talked (mostly to put off getting onto the cold pool), became fellow cheerleaders, (non-illegal) partners in crime and made the whole getting into really cold water every day bearable and fun (in its loosest sense).

I give you

The Frozen Roses

Finally, I had met/caught up with some fabulous people, to name a few:

Nick Hungerford - 50% Australian and 50% Londoner on your normal average day changing to 100% Australian when competing. 

Just to confirm that is not some kind of growth on Nick's soulder. It's Nigel photobombing.

Fenwick Ridley (and his fiancé) - Part Viking, part dolphin, and  thoroughly decent person (people), who will try and win by any means necessary. I give to Millie's lucky belt, the ice swimmers equivolent of heather/4 leafed clover/rabbit's foot/shamrock/horse shoe/elephant...

Millie Bell - uttery amazing swimmer, and the lovliest of girls - also from Yorkshire, bringing hope several well deserved medals, so absolutely of course gets a mention.

Robyn Dyson - swimmer of all distances, stroke and temperature, and despite her young age, imparted one of the best pieces of advice I could receive over the weekend 'try really hard not to hit the lane ropes - it stings. A lot.' Thanks to her I was mindful in all swims to stick to the middle of my lane. 

Nigel Robertson - team GB manager, who successfully managed my self inflicted high drama moment and turn it into something resembling a low farce. 

Kate Steels - utter legend, who, I can confirm (because she told me I had to) that despite how the photo looks, is not demanding that Fast Cath(y) elevates her hair above the water whilst she enjoys the jacuzzi. I recal there was a legitimate reason for it, which escapes me, but she did tell me it was absolutely NOT because she was being a princess. 

Evidence of the non-princess like behaviour 

Casually hung around with Chris and Liam Tancock (as in Olympian/world record holder Liam Tancock) from Swimzi. I've known them for ages and ages, but am still unable to persuade Liam (or Chris for that matter) into the water. 

Ram Barkai - founder of IISA, and from all accounts a relatively okay swimmer (I'd heard he's quite modest, and really wouldn't want me to list all his accomplishments, so I won't, but if you've an hour to spare at any time, there's an extensive list on openwaterpedia that I don't have room for. I did ask Jonty if I should courtesy when I met him. He said no. I did anyway - just in case Jonty had got it wrong. Here's the link.  https://www.openwaterpedia.com/wiki/Ram_Barkai) 

Ram's Sam (Whelpton) (as she was introduced as, and will be for me forever known as that) - utterly lovely and also happens to be pretty fast when it comes to ice swimming. Thankfully, as I am a gazillion years older than her we will never be in the same age category, as I fear if we were, I would have my a** handed to me on a plate! 

And last, but by no means least, the GB Team - we've had an absolute blast!

Team GB preventing anyone from going up or downstairs for the best part of 20 minutes.
Herding cats would probably have been easier! 

And, that's it. If you'd like more regular swim updates, as well as finding out what's next, follow me on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook group Open Water Woman.

Some of the photos are my own, others are credited to @marketing adventures

 

Short Setback To Training

Despite many practice sessions, and a notable improvement when it came to tolerating the cold temperatures, I was yet to become that swimmer that confidently glided into the cold water and literally bossed it from the off. I was/am working towards being that swimmer though, which I know will take time and great effort to achieve. To help I have purposefully surrounded myself with fellow swimmers that have a great mindset, along with coaches (Leon and Stu) who allow me to get away with absolutely nothing whatsoever if it was not serving me well. Included in this was faffing around, general pre-swim 'tomfloolery,' and lack of a purposeful stride into the water in this. I was also following some great advice from the likes of Dr Heather Massey, a researcher at the Extreme Environments Laboratory at the University of Portsmouth, who says that; ‘the secret to acclimatising to cold water is just to swim in it, often – at least once a week, and preferably two or three, gradually extending the time that you stay in the water," and I must say, my training and acclimatisation was going really well until, after 3 years, COVID finally caught me. It hit me like a freit train, and despite the temptation to carry on regardless, I was effectively 'banned' from swimming by The Swim Buddy (also nurse), and ordered to just get well first. She is my swim buddy for many reasons, however what tops this list is that she knows what I need to keep my strength up (cake and Berocca - obvs) and, after checking I hadn't lost my sense of taste (because that would be a complete waste of good food), arranged a doorstep delivery.

As it turned out, after many, many tiring hours on the sofa watching t.v and reflecting on life/the universe/swimming, I came to the conclusion she was right. I didn't want any part of this experience to be negative, and so I didn't swim. Part of my reflecting included some pretty frantic Googling of the effects that illness had on illness and exercise and thankfully, to quote Heather Massey again, 'research has shown that a couple of weeks off cold water swimming while you recover from illness has little impact on your cold adaption'. 

This information did stop me from panicking for the most part, but what did panic me was the weather forecast that Wincy Willis (Jonty - fellow swimmer) rang me especially to share. The bleakest of winters was about to descend pretty much overnight in Britain, and the water temperature had dropped significantly from 7 to 0.5oc overnight. Under normal circumstances I would be untroubled by this news, I'd either just dip rathre than swim, or wait out the cold spell. Unfortunately, right now I did not have the luxury of this option. I felt pretty certain that my return to the water would be pretty horrid at best. 

I'd like to point out, before I go on, that Jonty also did ask how I was feeling and really hoped I would be back training soon. I suspect he was disappointed that I wasn't swimming as I had promised to bring with me some home - made fudge cake (not technically home-made in its entirity - the Jane Asher one I once bought from Sainsbury's (other supermarkets available etc...) many, many moons ago to donate to the school Christmas Fayre and passed off as my own, fraudulently declaring it a 'family secret recipe,' should anyone ask, but now as absolutely everyone loves it, and as I'm too far in to tell everyone I have been deceiving them all this time, I have to go to buy from out of town so I'm not seen ...what a tangled web we weave... anyway, I digress). Skip forwards 2 weeks, and FINALLY I declared myself well enough to swim. My little swim tribe rallied together to ensure my safe return into the water by turning up with extra hot water bottles and cheerful words that let me know I'd been really missed, such as; 'great to have you back. Don't suppose you managed to bake that cake whilst you were off?' 

So, in the short time (but felt really, really long) I was off, the Baltic weather that had arrived so abruptly had left at the same pace, and whilst the water temperature was still not as high as it had been, don't get me wrong, it felt really cold, and some post-swim 'home-made' fudge cake would have made all the difference, however I was thrilled that at 4.5oc I nailed it. Okay, not nailed it in its entirity, but there was a seamless water entry worth mentioning, and although after that I didn't put my head under the water for the first 25 metres until Lara reminded me to, and it wasn't a vigerous swim, although I also cocked up setting my watch so it could have been vigerous, but we'll never actually know for sure, aside from that, it wasn't half as bad as I had imagined, which was something of a great relief with only a few weeks to go until the world championships. 

Finally, if you'd like to follow me for more regular training updates, I'm on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook. Look for Open Water Woman. 

Also, for those interested in reading more from Heather Massey the link is here. HOW TO ACCLIMATISE. The science and practise of adapting to cold water. https://www.outdoorswimmingsociety.com/how-to-acclimatise-to-cold-water/

IISA 5TH WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS 2023 - Part 3 Purposeful Training

At the Yorkshire GB Training grounds

 

Once I had told people I would be representing Team GB at the IISA World Championships it began to feel quite daunting. On the back of it though, I was blown away by the wonderful, endless tide of good advice and recommendations I received from so many experienced ice swimmers, as well as swimmers that prefer less cold conditions to swim in. One such piece of advice which really struck me was the importance of simulating race conditions - albeit minus the mountainous backdrop, opponents, adreneline or the crowd. Why? Because it would highlight any issues (I was expecting this list to turn out to be quite lengthy), identify weaknesses, and hopefully quash my nerves and give me the best chance of actually enjoying the swim. 

Pete Pfitzinger wrote; 'if you do not prepare your body for the demands of racing, then you cannot expect it to be ready to handle those demands. Therefore, the more specific you can make your training to the terrain, pace, environmental conditions the more effective your race preparations will be.' 

Seemed like pretty sound advice to me, however before any simulated race conditions happened, I was reminded of my first issue, which was the impossibility of avoiding some kind of trip hazard or other that I seemed to always find on my way to the waters edge, such as: my own toe, small pebble, grain of sand, nothing at all, things that prevented any kind of normal water entry. I made a mental note that I ought to spend at least some part of each training session practicing a seamless water entry, or at least find a way of stylishly cock it up, if only, so the whole event did not come to a grinding halt whilst they waited for the medical team to patch up my stubbed toe/chipped nail varnish.

And so Day 1 of training, and after standing (outdoor) poolside for many several minutes, lets call it  'visualising my swim,' rather than what Leon refered to as classic 'faffing around', I disrobed and was ready to get in. The water temperature was 8.5 degrees, and a long way away from the expected temperatures in France, but I had to start somewhere. A seamless (and careful) water entry happened, and after my initial disbelief, I was sorely tempted to immediately get straight back out and enjoy what felt like a very triumphant moment, however, this was short lived, when I realised that muttering a few sweary words as I got in immediately brough to my attention issue 2. My swim friend, Claire, informed me she was 100% sure that despite me claiming it was a natural part of my cold shock response, there was a very good chance that I might be at best disqualified, or worse, arrested for cursing in a public place. 

Because it was day 1, we collectively decided that it would be a great idea to start with a benchmake swim, and then regularly again after that to assess our progress. Off we set, and I very quickly remembered that I was not a natural sprinter, and so swimming faster than, well slow really, I was very much out of my comfort zone. It was one thing getting into a cold lake for a dip, it's a completely different thing when it comes to getting in the water, and immediately setting off, at speed and racing. It took a good minute for my breathing to settle, during which time my stroke was compromised by some pretty eratic breathing (part of the cold shock response), leading to my head being out of the water for pretty much around half of my actual swim time. 

That couple of minutes in the water felt like an hour. It was cold, uncomfortable, and highlighted some pretty important points which we discussed afterwards over post - swim biscuits - mine as the case was, as everyone else claimed to have 'forgotten' theirs at the exact same moment they saw the Betty's chocolate shortbreads I was attempting to pass off as 'just a plain old digestive' when quizzed. Unfortunately, despite my very best efforts to eat them undetected, Jonty had a nose for a decent chocolate biscuit and I felt obligated to share as he had already offered around his Hula Hoops, despite me not liking them...

I needed to not lose sight of the fact that every training session was going towards the planning and preparartion of my swim, and needed to remain aware that not every session was going to feel easy, with this one being no exception. With this in mind, a couple of things the session highlighted included;

1) I needed to research an appropriate warm up (in short, ask some folks that know their onions).

* I immediately messaged 2 people whose opinions I value. Firstly, Kate Steel. Ice swimming royalty, someone the ice swimming hall of fame described as 'one of the toughest and most skilled ice swimmers in the world,' 3rd person to complete the Ice Sevens, and 10 (yes, this is not  a typing error, 10!) ice miles under her belt, an absolute legend and all round good egg. She told me that with regards to a warm up, she may swing her arms a bit, but did not stretch as muscles contract when you get cold, and Leon Fryer, also an ice miler, STA open water rescue tutor, who created their endorsed CPD to assist other coaches and safety teams in the safe recovery and winter swimming, which is focussed on ice miles. Also, genunely lovely person who has piloted all of my endurance swims, and trust *implictely (*not with unsupervied cake  - where one may call it stealing, the other calls it fair game...), and coach at Swimyourswim, also suggested some gentle stretches, nothing vigorous, and definitly not running around waving my arms 'like a testosterone fuelled gibbon.' Noted.

2) I had underestimated how long it would take for my body to settle into what I would consider my normal stroke which, in part (along with the cold), was likely to be responsible for my decrease in pace.

* In short, my head elevation caused my hips and legs to sink, which increases my body’s contact area with the water (it's the angle between hip and shoulder in relation to the water surface) which then increases the drag (look up Toussaint & Hollander, 1994 and Zamparo et al., 2009)). Something that I was sure would improve the more I became used to the cold. 

Despite the aforementioned, I am a firm believer that one of the key components to my success includes looking at the negatives, for example, wrong body position, the cold and how it's affecting my performance, the unsuccessful biscuit camouflage incident etc, and work out how to adjust them before race day (not the biscuit incident - I have prioratised, and have already taken measures to ensure there is no repeat incident - My adjustment is to, going forwards, leave them in my locked car, so consider that covered).

For more regular (and shorter) updates,you'll find me on Instagram😊

See you soon for the next installment.

IISA 5TH WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS 2023 - Part 2

 

A snapshot of my IISA jumper (new)...

With the excitement of beling selected to represent Great Britain in the World Championships still in the front of my mind, I immediately went out and bought new stationery because, well lists... and thanks to my lists, within the day I had all the essentials sorted: flights and accommodation booked, transfers organised, a medical booked, insurance sorted and signed off as complete with a big highlighted tick with my highlighter pen... also new. 

In the interest of honesty, the above was achieved relatively quickly and seamlessly, which gave me plenty of time to move on to other essential items I would need to get, like a new swimming costume for starters. Something I felt the occasion warranted. This would no doubt take more time, as carefull consideration was required if I were to find one with a pattern that said, without words, that I was representing GB and I have done this by swimming in exceptionally cold water. I wasn't entirely sure that there was a costume out there that could say such a thing as it was quite a niche message really, however I felt that a huge Union flag emblazoned across it would, in part, achieve this AND it's not like I would never wear it again after the event... I can say with certainty that I will be wearing it at absolutely every opportunity, and probably not just for swimming - if it's at all possible to get away with it. It needed to firstly comply with the IISA rules, but also had to be zipless (once bitten, twice shy. I am refering to the horrid pool exit once when a costume with a zip spectacularly malfunctioned) and very importantly, that it covers everything it needs to - I would prefer neck to ankle, which would 100% rule out the possibility of a mid-swim exposure incident, however rules are rules, and above the knee was as long as was officially allowed. 

Time and thought also went into researching other important factors, such as new snow boots, new fleece lined hat, new, official IISA jumper, hand warmers, feet warmers (which are an actual thing), fleecy jumpers, skiing gloves that would not be used for skiing (I do not have the knees, or the inclination for it), but as they say, when in Rome... and a hot water bottle, also new... In addition to this, and something I honestly cannot believe that I will need to pack in my 'essential' list is an umbrella, after my research uncovered the rather unexpected, and completely unbelievable fact that it in January in Samoens it actually rains for 6.5 days a week! 

I confess, as I read this list back to myself, it did sound a bit over the top, as well as expensive, however, I should add that having spashed out on most of the aforementioned (I couldn't bring myself to buy feet warmers - a decision I hope I wouldn't regret), I did manage to absorb the cost of the new costume I was yet to purchase. I was able to achieve this with the multiple discounts I had been offered if I entered my e-mail for their mailing lists, and in return they also all promised to keep me updated with future new products and offers, which at first sounded very appealing, however 2 days in, and there seems to be a lot of them, and when I say a lot I am not exaggerating when I conservatively put the number in my inbox to be near eleventy billion notifications already. When my hunt for the perfect costume is over I will unsubscribe from them all, but in the meantime, I shall leave them there on the off chance that I don't miss that offer for that perfect costume. I feel I would regret not being inundated if I didn't... 

Thanks for reading. Next week's blog promises to include actual swimming and includes some of the concerns that my first 'meaningful' swim brought to light. There were a few, and for more frequent, and shorter updates, please follow me on Instagram. 

IISA 5TH WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS 2023 here I come!!!

 

Earlier this week I found out, via a pretty offiial looking e-mail, that I had been offered a place on the GB squad at the International Ice Swimming Association (IISA) 5TH WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS taking place in January in France (I must add, I had to qualify for this, and in some awfully cold water as well). My immediate jubilation and swiftly followed by feeling mostly overwhelmed, scared (actually more terrified than scared), apprehensive and completely out of my depth (no swim pun intended - but if one fits...).  I have no-one to blame but myself, after all, when you enter something, whether it's the Wimbledon ballot (still waiting for lady luck to shine on me after several long years of trying) or the North American Wife Carrying Championships (not entered for several reasons, including a motion sickness issue), there is a chance (Wimbledon being the exception), that you could get in. And so here I am, completely and utterly delighted and terrified at the same time.

The realty did not take long to sink in, and I realised I felt ill prepared for such an important event and needed to immediately formulate a training plan, after all, if I had been picked, I really needed to prove I was worth the place, but first I needed to call The Swim Buddy for some words of wisdom and sage advice. After congratulating me, she told me to pull myself together and start (and this is a direct quote) "getting my sh*t together," adding that to ensure that I did this, despite declaring that she would not be swimming through the winter on account that the water was "a bit too nippy" for her, she would accompany me to the lake, and on the days she couldn't she would be enlisting the eyes and ears of Leon Fryer as a stand in...We both agreed that the former option was the lesser of the two evils, and agreed to meet at the lake the following day for a team talk, take a couple of photos to document my journey and some serious planning. I informed her this would be a more productive discussion if proper refreshments were available, by which I inferred her delicious, and legendary, lemon drizzle cake. By all accounts - well hers actually - to make this happen, she had spent the whole of the evening driving round 3 supermarkets hunting down a particular brand of Sicilian lemon oil...well worth it I felt, after I decided that only eating the finest ingredients from now on in would be an essential part of my training - I should add that I consider ALL chocolate to be in the 'finest ingredients' category.

The swim buddy and I arrived at the lake all kitted out for a dip. Me with my hot water bottle, towel and CROCS (gws) and The Swim Buddy, meaning business, with massive note book, several coloured highlighters, clip board, cake tin and a Nikon Z9 round her neck. I was unsure whether David Bailey would miss this impressive, and I would have though essential, piece of kit, which The Swim Bud disguarded rather quickly, citing a severe neck strain, as well as the need to consult with her online camera instruction guru (Google) for ensuring she got the perfect shot... it was 25 minutes before she finally felt able to achieve this, during which time I had happily entertained myself with some extensive cake trials.

Finally, after much faffing whilst The Swim Buddy captured the moment, once in the water I realised that the milder autumn weather had also meant that the water would too be warmer than it would normally be. I was torn, on one hand it was lovely to get in for a refreshing, and dare I say long (well, 1,000 metre) swim, however this also meant that it was nowhere near the 2oc it would be in France in January. There was nothing I could do to change this. Once I was out I mentioned this concern to The Swim Buddy, imagine my surprise when she suggested I look at the notes she had made on several options for cold dips at home in case summer decided to extend into winter, including; an old bath, chest freezer (I hold Merthyr Mermaid responsible for this suggestion), a wheelie bin (cleaned) and several purpose built ice tubs. This much research lead me to suspect that The Swim Buddy had not spent as much time looking for lemon oil as she first said she had, however I was not complaining, she had a point. I needed as much cold exposure as I could get... 

and in the interest of losing anyone's attention by the blog being too long, there'll be more in the next blog. 

Always, there's more and frequent posts on Instagram if you care to follow... 🙏

Christmas come early...

'Santa's little helper' and I enjoying a post-swim hot chocolate
in the baking heat at the lake... 

Today's swim could most definitely probably be a strong contender by the Guinness book of Records as ‘the world record of slowest swims ever to have happened,' and included mostly heads up breaststroke with the odd front crawl stroke so the swim could be tracked via GPS, should it choose to actually be working (after all, if it's not on Garmin, questions are naturally asked as to whether it happened at all...). 

Garmin's official confirmation that the pace of our swim was, without doubt, 'slow...'

The reason for the stately pace was down to the 'good catch up and relaxing chat whilst we take in some nature' my good friend Karen (you may remember the GB triathlete I met swimming several years ago. She lapped me on one of her recovery swims following a leg fracture and we've been friends since...) and I decided to have - anyhow, it turned out to be not so relaxing after all as it was interruped several times by potential fish frights that were in fact actually a twig, a leaf, an arm and a bit of old rope, but to be fair - the blue nylon rope was kind of lake snake shaped, so we could be forgiven for our jumpiness...as well as this we had to hunt for the missing earbud that Karen had taken out so she could hear (don't know why she needed to do this - I am not known to be quiet, in fact, in my younger years was often fondly referred to as Foghorn Leghorn...) which was found in the front of her swim cap -  exactly where she put it for safe keeping. Unfortunately, once found, the ear bud proved to be too much for the swim cap, which after several readjustments tore and spent the ramained of the swim tucked down the front of her costume for safe keeping! On the grounds of safety, we decided to ditch the swim in favour of hot chocolate and some energy restorative cake that we really didn't deserve, but not before I stubbed my toe on my own leg getting out in an attempt to avoid a fellow swimmer also getting out, but in a more elegent, and safe, way...

What happened next could only be described as ‘Christmas come early’ as it turned out that Karen had arrived completely unprepared for after our swim, resulting in her frantically looking for something in her car to fling on for post-swim cake fest, and frankly (IMO) coming up trumps when she found her (she says “only,” but I’m sceptical) Christmas jumper, which she discovered under several unmentionable other ‘not so seasonal ‘items.’ 

After much merriment from me and some pretty strong resistance and arguing from Karen that she would look like - and I quote directly here - “a complete b*ll e*d” and “a laughing stock,” I reminded her that despite the weeks soaring temperatures, she would get cold without it, and finally, after what could only be described as a short standoff, after which she realised under no circumstances was I lending her any of my gazillion, non- festive, spare clothes, when she had a perfectly usable jumper of her own, she finally conceded that as I would not budge, she had no choice but to put it on before we headed back to the cafe and obviously, as there was no way I was letting her get away without photographic evidence, the shoreline for a photo shoot...

Finally, I think it’s fair to say that not everyone can pull off a Christmas elf jumper, and especially not in the height of summer during a heatwave, and therefore, to give you a visual representation of this morning, I have included a photo of my gorgeous friend in said Christmas jumper, sadly also not pulling it off… but instead providing me (and pretty much all on the shoreline) the best of laughs and being the best sport, and one of the very reasons I love the open water swimming commuity so much.

Thanks for reading, and one final thing- before I am lynched for writing about Karen - I ran it past her first to check she wasn’t traumatised by the whole Chrismas jumper experience and didn’t mind me writing my account. She’s fine, and has assured me that the only thing she was upset about was that she managed to break her favourite swim cap, and that rather than wallowing in embarrassment, she was spending the afternoon throwing “more appropriate post-swim knitwear” in the back of her car having learnt a very valuable lesson, and researching whether it was a good time to sell second-hand Christmas jumpers on E-Bay!  

The SwimyourChannelswim relay swim has FINALLY been swum!

Finally, after three cancellations, I can say that I was part of a successful Channel relay crossing. Here’s my account of when was literally one of the best days ever.

 

We arrived at the jetty at 5:30am and getting my priorities in order, immediately began quizzing our pilot Andy about the recent ‘alleged’ orca whale sighting in the Channel. To be honest I was expecting him to laugh it off and tell me it was rumour and scaremongering. I was not expecting him to offer to show me real footage of them… I realised that the scenario of actually coming face to face with an orca had not been considered in my ‘guidelines for a safe crossing’ list, and began making a mental note to swiftly conduct an emergency exit strategy as soon as I was able to, just in case it was on one of my swim legs that they decided to reappear. I also instructed swim buddy to be on orca watch when I was swimming and alert me immediately of any possible sighting and to jump in and sacrifice herself for me should the need arise. 

 

Team SwimyourChannelswim

Richard took the first leg, which seemed to fly by. We had taken a white board which enabled us to keep in constant communication with the swimmer without yelling to them (the whole reading a message on a white board whilst swimming thing definitely took some concentration and coordinating), and used it to let him know he was half way through his swim as well as some motivational quotes like for example ‘this way for the Brie.’ We realised quickly that you needed to write in large bold letters and also not joined up, because on one of the messages we were alerting him of a large patch of seaweed we had noticed up ahead, and had written ‘seaweed ahead’ for obvious reasons. I also added a small (realistic) diagram for reference, which I personally thought Bob Hoskins himself would have been proud of. Sadly, Richard mistakenly read it as ‘sewerage ahead,’ and told us that although he was unable to unpick the meaning behind the picture, and had assumed it was some type of modern art, and was an absolute mystery to him as to what it was, he had nonetheless subsequently spent the remainder of his swim with his firmly mouth shut. I think art is very much subjective. 

 

The white board was provided by Richard for the swim. The purpose of which started off being to allow the folks on the boat (us) to easily get an urgent/must know/helpful/encouraging message such as the ‘seaweed ahead’ one, or ‘orca at starboard’ or ’30 minutes left’ to the swimmer. However, as the swim continued, it also became the primary source of entertainment (after Jonty’s singing), with Richard inventing the new, must play ‘over the side quiz’ quiz, a rather tense game of noughts and crosses and a French food and drink inspired word search, along with the ‘as the crow flies’ mileage to France. The swim buddy told me, after her second leg, she was delighted with the message I wrote complementing her on headbutting the blue jellyfish, as her one and only other headbutting incident prior to that involved a football and a trip to A&E! I was just hoping that any sting she received from the jellyfish would be minimal and we would not be requiring the services of A&E, as on this occasion this would also probably need include the lifeguard, their helicopter and possibly Border Force and we had a swim to finish… 

Make good use of the whiteboard to get a motivational message to the swim buddy. 

 

As Richard was swimming, I decided to fully embrace the spirit of the swim and put on my beret – and tucked into a croissant ready for my first swim, although it is only right to point out that I had already devoured one of the Fat Rascals that (the most amazing café in my hometown) Betty’s had donated to us (they are fellow supporters of Saint Michael’s hospice, who I was raising money for) on the way to the harbour and probably didn’t actually need one. Richard’s first swim flew by, and before I knew it, I needed to start getting ready. As I did, Andy reminded me of the rules of the relay when getting in (no touching swimmer already in the water, or the boat. He also warned me that other swimmers had told him the water was quite ‘fresh’ at the moment, however I was more concerned about jumping in without a costume malfunction, losing my goggles or swallowing a nasty mouthful of salt water, however was able to confirm relatively quickly that the water was indeed as fresh as they had said. And also, salty when you accidentally do some kind of unexpected nasal flush.

 

I settled into the swim relatively quickly, although was always really aware that I was swimming in water that was home to some pretty large creatures, which if hungry, would not hesitate in attempting to eat me whole, and therefore stayed as near to the boat as I could… just in case. I was also aware that during Richard’s leg, along with the blanket of seaweed, we had also spotted a handful of lone jellyfish, and it wasn’t too long before I had also forgotten about any orcas and sharks and large stuff that could, if they so choose, eat me, because I had more important things to worry about, like for example the smack of jellyfish that I could see directly underneath me. By some stroke of luck rather than any technique, managed to avoid them all, and there was a lot…  unfortunately, there was no way of letting Jonty know when he got in without me swallowing half of the sea through my nose, and as I had swallowed a lot already, left him to it. He would find our soon enough one way or the other…

 

My second swim was a completely different story. On one hand the water was definitely warmer, but on the other, rather a lot of jellyfish had appeared. I lost count of sightings after I got up to about eleventy billion, and instead turned my attention to the sting I acquired down my right arm after a collision with a blue jellyfish, and several nasty ones on the back of my left leg by some small white ones. I realised at that painful point that I had not followed the swim buddy’s advice which was to take an antihistamine before I got in, and spent the remainder of the swim regretting it. Much of the swim was then spent mentally running through the symptoms associated with a jellyfish sting that I had extensively researched on the internet, like: weakness, feeling lightheaded, bleeding and difficulty breathing (yes, I had spent A LOT of time on the NHS website), in fact because I was so busy looking for them that I missed the ’30 minutes to go’ notice, and only realised once I saw Jonty on the side of the boat ready to get in. After what had been an eventful swim dodging jellyfish, the swim buddy (thankfully fully trained nurse) did a quick once over and confirmed that I was indeed stung, told me off for not taking the medicine, and informed me that I would survive and to put on some cream. Richard also offered some practical advice, by way of suggesting the services of the whole team in a collective wee to ‘help reduce the sting.’ Thankfully, the swim buddy stepped in and informed him that she was 100% sure this was NOT recommended by the NHS as an effective way to treat symptoms, and as I had spent A LOT of time doing the research, was able to confirm that this was indeed the case. 

Apparently the ship you can see in the background had to go all the way round us, at that distance, to continue its route... 

 

Shortly after I had got out I needed to eat – yet more food – however, I began to feel a little queasy, which quite frankly was not great as I had my eyes on another Fat Rascal. THey were turning out to be very popular and I needed to grab another one before they all disappeared. I had bought some travel sickness tablets despite never suffering before, and was confident that I wouldn’t actually need them, and therefore hadn’t actually bothered to take one. Unfortunately, the Fat Rascal I had planned to eat at this point would need to wait, as according to the packet, it would take a couple of hours before I would feel any improvements. I turned to the swim buddy again looking for a recommendation for a faster alternative as was standard on all swims previously, she had covered all possible alternatives of scientifically and less scientifically proven effective preventative measures for motion sickness, which included a mixture of over the counter remedies combined with old wives’ tales. Unfortunately, – none of which appeared to be working for her as I found her too suffering. This didn’t fill me with confidence that my tablets would work all that well, as she had the good sense to have taken hers before we had even set off and yet was still looking very green around the gills, still, on the plus side, we had enough packets of ginger biscuits and mint tea bags on the boat that although I suspected could have sparked an international shortage, would have also kept us sufficiently covered if the swim were to take us to Christmas to complete… I must add that despite feeling ‘a bit sh*t’, she managed to battle on, whilst also proving two things: 1) you can successfully swim in a Channel relay on 2 Dextro tablets and half a ginger biscuit, and 2) the excessive carb loading, which basically continued without break since our last swim date in the previous October that she did, had stood her in very good stead after all. What an absolute legend!

 

It is customary in all good swim teams, ensuring that every team member in the water was safe and doing well was of paramount importance. This involved ensuring that a risk assessment be done should the swimmer appear to be in any kind of danger (or basically, in our case, a lengthy chat about said possible danger from the safety of the boat, before collectively deciding we should do nothing about it aside from wait for instruction/guidance from Andy)– whether imaginary, from a blanket of seaweed or indeed in this instance, from some unidentified sea creature that on Jonty’s leg had surfaced not far from him. After much discussion, deduction and guesswork (aka the aforementioned risk assessment), by process of elimination we collectively agreed from our observations that it was either dark grey or black, but that also it didn’t have any white on it, and that it was quite large making it definitely not a haddock or a jellyfish, a squid or a seahorse. It also ruled out orca, but not shark or narwhal, and whilst after a quick sweep of the immediate vicinity, Richard and the swim buddy quickly went back to the job in hand- watching Jonty, I did not. Instead, I began to google every possible combination of the phrase ‘how do I outswim a shark or a narwhal?’ just in case when I got back in in three hours time it was still lurking… As it turned out, afterwards, Jonty informed us that he was not oblivious to our ‘emergency team meeting,’ although had no idea what it was about, and told us that he assumed that we would let him know, via the white board, if there was any need to panic, and so continued unbothered. We didn’t bother to inform him that due to all of the whiteboarding we had been doing, the pen had actually run out which rendered the white board completely useless from then on in, and actually, the only way we would have been able to gain his attention using the whiteboard was if we threw it at him stopping him in his tracks, and anyway, by the time he was back on the boat the whole incident had been downgraded from high drama to low farce on the back of Andy calmly suggesting that it was probably a seal.

 

My third leg the water was slightly less calm, and thankfully only a smattering of jellyfish, although there were some frankly Baltic cold patches that went right through me, which Andy informed me afterwards was due to the change of tide churning up some of the lower colder water, and not because we had gone dramatically off course to the North Pole or Siberia, as I had initially suspected! In addition to this, whilst I was in the water, the crew on the boat suddenly appeared at the side of the boat with huge binoculars and a camera with equally huge lens on it, and my team mates were leaning over the side of the boat with equal interest. Now, I am not saying I began to panic – more like inner hysteria happened, when I remembered there was still some unidentified creature that we saw near Jonty earlier, and that our whiteboard was out of action, due to overuse, and whilst I waited in vain for the instruction to get back on the boat – and fast – I was about to plan my exit strategy when they all retreated back, leading me to think that that I was either not in any imminent danger, or they didn’t care…Turned out the they hadn’t seen a lost orca, but instead were watching the French Navy launch a drone towards a migrant boat. 

 

A friend, Claire – also Channel relay swimmer, had told me that when you were around half way, if the weather was favourable, we would notice that the sea appeared to change colour to the most amazing shade of blue, and she was right. Noticing this prompted much excitement, and to celebrate we donned our 100% pure wool berets (courtesy of Jonty), despite the 27oc heatwave, and erupt into some rather tuneless long forgotten French songs (including Jo le taxi and the 1970’s classic Chanson d’amour) whilst tucking into some croissants. This also gave us false hope that we were nearer to France than we thought, and the second half of the swim was spent in various discussions as to whether we could actually see land, or whether it was some sort of trickery of the light or mirage, and as with most of our swims, the talk revolved back round to food and a heated debate over whether any French cheese could rival our beloved Wensleydale ensued, before we returned to singing yet more French inspired songs until eventually I needed to use the mouthwash I had brought for the salt, to help with the sore throat I had acquired from attempting some rather high notes that were well above my range. 

 

By this time we had all swum three times, and Richard was due back into the water for (what we hoped was) the final leg, on the back of the fact that we could definitely see land – that we assumed to be France. I was so convinced he would be the one to make land, that I confidently began rooting round the bottom of my food bag for the small bottle of now tepid champagne that I had brought with me to celebrate. Andy, pilot and Channel crossing expert, was not as confident as me, and suggested that I didn’t open it as I would definitely be getting back in. As it turned out, this was excellent news, despite the worrisome recent large, still unidentified, aquatic livestock sighting and the multiple jellyfish, because although I was convinced it would be Richard, I had in our little sweepstake bet on me being the one to reach France, and if I did, I stood to win twenty of your British pounds (unless someone else had also bet on me too – all bets were placed in secret, so we wouldn’t find out until the end) for my charity. In addition to this, Jonty had informed me that he would prefer to not get back in again, and if I could land it he would shout me afternoon tea, as well as a Fortnum and Mason hamper, and so although Richard had picked up the pace and was ploughing towards our destination in some now choppier water, I was confident enough to begin my google search as to which hamper I liked the look of the most… (liked the look of/must expensive – same thing really!).

 

As I began to get ready for my next swim, Andy came for a chat. He told me that I would need to swim like I was being chased during this leg due to the tide. I informed him that I had been doing that the whole swim already, although when he laughed I was not all that convinced he believed me. To ‘help’ make this leg pass quickly, Jonty had offered to ‘add some much needed ambience and joie de vivre’ to the swim by singing yet more catchy iconic French songs to me over the side of the boat. Having heard him earlier, I was thankful to be wearing some ear plugs and therefore despite what he promised to be one of the greatest interpretations of the tunes, didn’t hear a word of it – unlike my fellow team mates and the crew, who later admitted it was a ‘rather unique experience’ with Richard also describing it as ‘somewhat moving’ with ‘not a dry eye on the boat.’ Now I was back in the water, I hadn’t appreciated how much the swell had got up, and although tiring trying to negotiate it whilst not swallow any more of the sea, it was all really thrilling - aside from the moment I thought I had seen a fin...

 

After what felt like the longest time being busy trying to swim to France, rather abruptly the boat stopped. Unsure of what to do next I turned around to find the rig making its way next to me. This meant several things 1) I would be landing the swim in France. 2) I had won the sweepstake. 3) I would need to go back online as soon as I was back on the boat to choose my F&M hamper – I would definitely be going in at the top of the price range as I had selflessly swum through a lot of chop for the last hour so Jonty didn’t have to. 4) I would cry the rest of the way to France. 

Arriving in France I had heard that some Channel swimmers were lucky enough to be greeted with clapping and a glass of chanpagne at Cape Gris- Nez when they arrived. Something I was very much looking forward to. Unfortunately, I landed a little further north in what could only be described as a rather overly dramatic fall onto France's most pebbliest and quietest beach. Despite this, I decided that I would cheer and clap loudly by myself and even considered singing the national anthem - before remembering that it was six verses long (of which I was fairly confident I was word perfect at just one of them) and that new covid rules only allowed a swimmer on French ‘soil’ for a maximum of ten minutes, and I still had to find a souvenir pebble – each, as the swim buddy told me not to bother coming back to the boat empty handed… Not a problem on this beach, although trying to choose a pebble that you felt that your swim team would like turned out to be quite difficult. The only consideration was that they needed to be small enough to fit down my costume, although after much deliberation as to where I should actually put them, I came up with a genius idea, which was to take off my swim cap, put the pebbles in it before putting it safely down the front of my costume whilst I swam back to the rig for a ride back to the boat. 

 

French pebbles safely down my costume, I discovered that getting back onto the rig to head back to the boat and my cheering team mates, was completely different experience that I had envisaged. I was informed, by Andy’s son who was piloting it, that getting onto it to get back onto it with already tired arms was often more difficult than swimmers realised and if I needed some help, just to let him know and he would (more politely put) haul me up by whichever means necessary. Undaunted, confident and feeling invincible after our successful crossing, my first (and only) attempt at climbing up the side of the rig - unaided- was successful, although I did manage somehow to rock the boat to the point of tipping it over, before a rather excellent faceplant of the bottom of the rig. Despite being aware of my unsteady feet, I disembarked from the rig with a level of carefulness that again almost caused it to roll onto its side. Richard broke off from his celebrations to offer an arm as I rather unsteadily set foot back onto the boat. In reality I should have been untroubled by the unstable footing, as prior to the swim I had taken the time to Google ‘emergency capsize and recovery drills’ and felt confident that should a ‘man overboard’ scenario happen, I knew the protocol, however, I suddenly felt woefully unprepared for such an event and grabbed onto Andy and Richard to steady myself. Once safely back on board, there was much merriment with my fellow team mates cheering loudly and also demonstrating some rather questionable dance moves that led me to suspect that they had opened some celebratory (alcoholic) beverages already. 

 

Once I had got changed, I checked in on the swim buddy, who told me (thankfully not in any great detail) that she was still feeling very worse for wear and was going to try and sleep it off on the return leg. Richard informed me he was going to have a well- deserved snooze, which left only Jonty and I to continue celebrating, with warm champagne and a packet of my (reluctantly given) Jaffa Cakes, the fact that we had done it! 

 

We had set off from England at 06:21 and 14 hours and 58 seconds and later arrived in France after swimming a collective 30.49 miles (a tad further than the crow flies 21 miles) to collect four of France’s finest – and smallest – pebbles (which I distributed amongst the team once I had chosen the best one for myself first of course). 

 

The official time!

We (well Richard anyway) had swim through a blanket of seaweed as large as a continent, swam into some cold patches that had probably drifted straight from Antarctica, we had sung some popular, iconic, catchy and sometimes unidentifiable French songs together, we had become an expert en fromage, marine experts (despite being baffled by the one unidentified creature that Jonty almost came up close and personal with), become able to identify several species of jellyfish by sting alone, eaten our body weight in Fat Rascals and had one of the best days out that I would not have wanted to spend with anyone else. 

 

One final thing, I’d like to say to my family, friends, Saint Michael’s, Betty’s, Swim your Swim and the online community that have supported me on throughout this journey a huge thank you for being the best cheerleaders, motivators and encouraging bunch of people. You have all been amazing!