Channel Blogging

Given the challenges I’m facing in the coming months several people have said it would be good to start a blog on our site. Two weeks ago I took part in the lanzarote ironman along with Paul, Ross, Tom and Mark. Four weeks from now I’m going to swim the english channel.

Both events are a massive trial of physical endurance. Each however requires a very different set of skills. Paul is now a very experienced ironman (quadruple IM!) and so will give our account of the ironman challenge. Below I’ll give my thoughts, expectations and fears on the channel swim.

The channel is considered the ultimate endurance event in open water swimming. The shortest distance from shakespeare beach in dover to cap-gris-nez in northern france is 21 miles. The tides that push and pull through channel extend the swim distance closer to 30 miles (or more!) so the swim is likely to take around 12 hours. Perhaps surprisingly the time and distance probably aren’t the biggest challenges. The main issue is the cold water – hypothermia is a huge issue for all swimmers. Although only approximately 100 experienced swimmers attempt the challenge each year roughly 50 percent still fail.

To be able to swim for this amount of time and for this distance I’ve been through months of training. I have huge support from my coach, Tim, at RedTop swim and my training partner, Guy, who is facing the same challenge in just two weeks. We’ve travelled all over to get the necessary training done and so in these blogs I’ll try and explain the journey.

This is my story – So as Ross would say – “welcome to my world!”

The Serpentine

It’s 6am as my phone alarm starts screeching loudly next to my ear. I roll out of bed. Everything hurts. Sleep deprivation is getting worse. Guy knocks on my door… “time to go man”. “yeah ok”. Opening the door of his flat in south ken it’s cold. It really shouldn’t be this cold in mid-May. I jump on my bike as Guy starts running. It’s just a short distance to the serpentine in hyde park. Guy will get a bit of a sweat on. Sadly the 10 minute gentle ride wont be enough for me to do the same. As I park my bike I look over the lake to see people already in the water. The sun is attempting to break through the mist but the water still looks cold. A quick change and we’re back in the same position. Guy wades into the water. I walk the pontoon to the centre of the serpentine – miserably failing to stall the inevitable. Guy’s off. With no stalling time left I jump. Wow it’s cold today. The stinging sensation begins immediately. Like being thrown naked into a bush of stingy nettles. I’m in autopilot as my entire self is moving frantically to try and stay warm. My stroke is erratic – but I start to recover. Quicker than last time. Good. You’re ok man. You’re not dying even though it feels like it! Keep it long and smooth. A few lengths and we settle into the usual routine of a several long 400s to the far buoy and back.

40 minutes in and we’re both feeling it. It seems worse than Dover on the weekend. The claw is back. Massively. I look at my watch and it’s getting late. I need to get to work. I mention this to Guy who, to my relief, calls the last 3x100s. I get back to the pontoon and hurl myself out. I know I’m feeling it but I wont know, till change time, quite how much. We both stumble back toward the changing rooms glancing at each other and laughing, nervously, as we can both feel it setting in and we’re questioning the what and why of the past 45 minutes.

In the small but cosy mixed changing room of the lido the shivers start. And they’re bad. I manage to dress myself (shabbily!) and head out side quickly to see if standing in the sun helps. Guy had stuttered warm tea whilst changing and I definitely need it today – work can wait another 10 mins as the sun isn’t helping the shakes! My whole body is still convulsing. Guy clearly can’t do his shoelaces up again so I’m cursing him as he finally emerges. We walk into the lido cafe and the waitress smiles as we can barely talk. “t.t..tea.. please”. The tea helps but the time is ticking so I’ve only got 5 minutes which isn’t enough to warm me up. I’m still shivering as I say my farewell and head back to my bike. I’m getting frustrated at not being able to undo my bike lock as my hands are shaking too much to get the key in the hole. Ok done. I jump on it and head back through the park. Legs are sore and I’d hate the idea of heading over to Canary Wharf to work if it wasn’t that I know the movement is going to generate heat. Heat is good!

The shivers have stopped somewhere down the mall as I pass Buckingham Palace but the wind through my cycle shoes have made my feet totally numb and utterly painful. Is this good for the circulation? You push yourself to the limit so the body fights back and the other things in life seem easy?!

As I’d cycled through Marble Arch there were a few hairy moments with the traffic whilst my brain was still frozen – but it’s a beautiful morning – blue skies – and the roads are reasonably quite for London. I have a few moments to reflect on what I just put myself through…. How did this all begin?

Steve Moore. The man has a lot to answer for. During one horrifically hungover train journey back from the Edinburgh festival I agreed to swim the channel. Paul and Ross were his perfect aides. Sitting across the train table, grinning at me, they got in my head and said I couldn’t do it. This obviously gave me no option… Like Guy wading in to the water and forcing my hand. This.. this is where it started.

Dave