Ollie's English Channel Swim September 2009

New York Record Swim - 28/9/2011

2011-10-08T04:23:00.000-07:00

Myfirst thoughts are to thank the team that made this possible. I hadtwo great kayakers, Margaret Mann and the legendary Richard Clifford.I had wonderful crew support from my great buddy Knowles Tivendale,who brought his whole family out to NY from Melbourne, and my eversupportive brother-in-law Tim Freeman. Logistically the swim wasmasterminded by the dynamo Morty Berger who plotted and planned thecourse and tides to perfection. And my constant inspiration andmotivator my darling wife Vickie.

I'mnot a believer in fate, I've always felt you make your own choicesand luck but somehow the closer the swim came the more it seemed totransform from a simple race into a genuine belief that circumstanceshad conspired to make the record attempt a reality. When I first wasinvited to race I believed the record well beyond me, after all, onlythe previous year two professional long distance champions had fallenconsiderably short, if Peter Stoychev the record holder for thefastest English Channel crossing and Mark Warkentin, a 2008 Olympian, had failed, I didn't fancy my chances.

Howeverthe tides were better this year, plenty of rain and optimal lunarinfluences meant we had some of the most favourable conditions foryears, at least on paper. Lessons had been learnt from the previousyears race and several areas for improvement were anticipated. In thedays before the swim I swam in the New York waters and I found myselfnot only believing that I could break the record but perhaps it wasmeant to be this way.

Ikept my feet on the ground, I knew I would have to earn any successand I had an extremely competent rival, Rondi Davies, to beat also.Rondi is an Australian living in New York and a very experienced,successful long distance swimmer.

Themorning of the race arrived, I felt excited and only a littlenervous, keen more than anything to get the race underway. The starttime was 2.14 pm to coincide with the peak tidal movements. Rondi wouldstart approx 10min ahead to ensure we had no assistance by draftingor pushing each other along. The weather was overcast but warm andthe water at about 21deg very comfortable, ideal for a long hardrace. Rondi started bang on schedule, the tide was starting to buildup the Harlem and before long she was out of sight. Our boat hoveredin position, I had rinsed and re-rinsed the goggles, we driftedslightly and had to remanouvere the boat, exactly 11min after Rondithey counted me down and I started the swim.

TheManhattan swim can be divided into 3 roughly equal parts being the 3main river systems. I had studied the time predictions and knew whereI needed to be in each river to be on track for the record. The firstriver was the Harlem. There is always a risk of going out too hard ina race, especially when the adrenaline surges, I wanted to swim hardthroughout but I knew I needed to get into a steady rhythm and workthrough the first part of the race. I felt very comfortable at thestart, the Harlem was a great loosener, there are a dozen or sobridges to swim under that cross the river, each bridge you passmakes you feel like you are making progress and provides easylandmarks along the way. My feeding regime was energy drinks every30minutes with gels hourly. The first 30min flew by and when Richardsignalled the first feed I couldn't believe we had been going30minutes already. At the 1 hour feed I grabbed a quick drink but asI kicked away my right foot cramped. It was a potential disaster,I've never been bothered by cramps in the open water, I was wellhydrated, I had been resting up and staying off my feet, thisshouldn't have been a problem! If the cramps got worse I would bereduced to arms only swimming and could forget about winning the racelet alone the record. I tried to stretch my calf while I swam whileeasing back my kick strength. The cramp finally settled but every nowand again it twinged and each time it sent a surge of anxiety throughme as I thought is this it? Is this the end of my race?

Theupper part of the Harlem went by quickly, we rounded the tip ofManhattan and I knew we were bang on time - approx 1 & 3/4 hrs.Morty had warned that getting into the Hudson might be hard work, theriver would be in full flow and may be working against us coming outof the Harlem. As it was we passed under the final bridge and I felta great surge of fresh water hit me from my right. We were pushedsouth, I knew the tide would weaken the further we travelled, we hadto make the most of the help while we had it, I also knew it mighthelp Rondi more than me as although I had closed her lead downslightly she had reached the Hudson 6 minutes earlier and would havehad more time in the fast water before it eased off. The Hudson hadbeen a tough slog in June, it was the last part of the race and bythen my eyes were so sore I could barely see my kayakers let alonethe shoreline. This time we made great early progress and again thelandmarks - the George Washington Bridge and city skyscrapers passedby at regular intervals. The Hudson wasn't reading the script though,the wind was picking up from the South and East and blowing againstus. Great swells of waves started to drive into us. I was starting tofeel the effects of a hard 3hrs of swimming and the conditions weremaking it even tougher. It takes so much more effort to swim inchoppy conditions and I had to concentrate on holding as smooth astroke as possible while not being deterred by the rough water. Itold myself I still had a trailing current so not to worry about the'lumpy' conditions. Eventually the Manhattan piers came into sightand the Battery (the southern tip of NY) loomed in the distance. Wemoved close into the shore and I hit the 4hour feed right at thebottom of NY which I knew meant we were still on target. Richard gothit by some huge backwash from a ferry and disappeared momentarilyfrom view, I was being tossed around like the proverbial cork but Iwasn't stopping for anything and a second later Richard reappearednot looking any the worse for the excitement. We reached the enormousStaten Island ferry which very kindly waited until we had passedbefore pulling out and we entered the final part of the race, theEast River.

Thesun was setting as we reached the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges, atthe next feed I asked Richard how far ahead Rondi was, "2min"was the reply which I thought meant I had nearly caught her but infact she was still 9 minutes ahead and had made time on me in theHudson. She continued to pull away until my overall lead was reducedto only 7 seconds. With no way of knowing where Rondi was andbelieving myself well ahead of her my concern had switched to therecord. I was telling myself I had 1hr to go if I kept on pace. I wasfeeling exhausted, but I knew this was where I would 'earn' thisswim, I thought of Grant my cousin who I dedicated this swim to, Ithought of Vickie, I told myself I would never have this opportunityagain and I found some extra strength. It was soon completely darkand I was relying on the city lights and glow sticks on the kayaks tosee anything. We hit 5hours, 30min to go, I told myself. I stole alook up and saw the large Queensboro bridge in the distance. I knewthat was some way short of the finish and just hoped the East riverwas still flowing fast beneath me. I drove on and on, every time Ifelt myself fading I gritted my teeth and lifted the effort. We hit 5hrs and 30min and I still couldn't see the finish. Unknown to me thecurrent had dropped to a crawl and if I was going to break the recordit would be with no help at the end right when I needed it. Richardegged me on one last time, "You have 1 mile to go, this is it, Iwant to see you vomiting when you cross the line!"

Iwas mentally ticking off the minutes, 5 minutes passed and in thedark I had no idea where we were. 10minutes passed, I was socompletely spent I thought I'd have to roll onto my back withexhaustion, 12min, 13min, I really had no idea how much further to goor how long I had been swimming, I just knew I was potentially out oftime. I could hear Margaret yelling at my right, I could see Richardsmacking his kayak and waving me forward, faster, faster he wasmotioning. Suddenly my right hand smacked into the side of Margaret'skayak and I looked up, there was the official support boat, literallyright in front of me. Morty was yelling at me "here, here, youhave to finish up here" I spun my arms 5 more times and crossedthe finish line. I looked up, utterly spent. Morty leant over theside and said "You did it, Rondi broke the record and you justbeat her time by about a minute". I heard him clearly but Iasked him to repeat himself anyway, I almost couldn't believe it. Itwas the hardest most intense race of my life, I had never pushedmyself that hard for so long before and I had beaten the 16year oldrecord by 1minute and 23sec or as Richard liked to point out later,"actually you beat a 10minute old record by 45seconds".

After5 and 3/4hrs I beat Shelley's time by less than a minute and a half!So many things had to go right for this swim, the tides, thecurrents, the conditions, water temp, weather. It was plotted down tothe last minute and I was guided round by possibly the mostexperienced Manhattan kayaker in the world! Only the rough conditionsin the Hudson were less than optimal and I swam at my absolute limitfor the whole day. Maybe it was meant to be, maybe I made my ownluck, maybe fate smiled on me. One day, next year, or the year afteror maybe several years from now someone will beat my time, you can'tbe the fastest forever. Shelley was the fastest for 16years, Rondi,10 minutes. But for now I have the record. I couldn't have done itwithout Richard, Morty, my whole support crew, a bit of luck and alot of work. It still hasn't really sunk in, I'm not really sure whatto make of it but I like what my twin brother said when I spoke tohim afterwards "Well it's nice to know what I'm capable of".

In memory of Grant - World Record

2011-09-30T07:17:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday the 28th of September I broke the 16year old world record held by Shelley Taylor- Smith for the 45km circumnavigation of Manhattan Island. The swim is dedicated to my cousin Grant Bates, he passed away 10days ago after a short battle with cancer. Grant was a wonderful man, a great father, husband, doctor and filled with seemingly boundless energy and enthusiasm. He accompanied me on my first ever marathon swim, a double crossing of lake Windermere in 2009. It was a challenging swim for the crew who had to row a traditional heavy wooden boat next to me all through the night, I don't think Grant stopped smiling once! In honour of Grant I have been fundraising for the SharkTrust, an environmental charity Grant was particularly supportive of. This one is for you Grant, thanks for the memories.

Andrew Vidler's Channel Swim

2011-07-22T12:03:00.000-07:00

This was always going to be a novel experience for me, as a swimmer I've never been part of the support crew. I've always appreciated the importance of those around you, the invaluable assistance from those who feed you, advise you, navigate and encourage you but up till now I've always received this crucial support and never given it. The opportunity to be part of someone else's adventure seemed like a great opportunity and when I discovered Andrew's swim would take part at a time when I was back in the UK I offered to help and my offer was quickly accepted.

July came around and we moved back to England a few days before Andrew's tidal window was due to start but as is often the way, channel swims don't often stick to the schedule. Andrew was the second swimmer in his tide which started on the 7th of July, the first swimmers were getting away a few days into the window but the weather was closing in fast and Andrew's pilot only managed to get one swimmer away in the 11 days available. So Andrew's tide came and went and like many swimmer's before him Andrew was left high and dry in Dover. Getting frustrated and having exhausted the few diversions Dover had to offer, Andrew packed his family off to Paris and came up to Cheltenham to stay with us and clear his head. Andrew spent three days swimming in the local fresh water lake and outdoor lido and managed to relax and refocus. By the time he headed back to Dover the weather was improving and a swim date mid week on a low spring tide looked possible.

The call from the pilot came and finally the swim was locked in for an early start on the Wednesday morning. I headed off from Cheltenham late afternoon. For me it was like going back in time two years. When I swam the channel we also headed down the evening before the swim. With the car packed I set off on the long drive to Dover. This was a route I was very familiar with having done it so many times in the build up to my own swim. When I finally crested the hill above Dover I could see France as a distant speck on the horizon. It was all very reminiscent of 2009 and I felt a twinge of excitement as I saw the familiar buildings and harbour. I arrived at Andrew's B&B and met up with the rest of the crew; Caren, Andrew's wife and Fraser, Andrew's kiwi friend and swimming buddy from year's gone by. We managed a quick power nap before the alarms sounded at half past midnight and we jumped into action. A quick bite and then down to the marina. Pre-swim nerves were building slightly but Andrew seemed focused and ready to swim. We loaded up the boat and met Chris the pilot, his crew and the somewhat fresh looking observer Marcus. The boat chugged round to Samphire Hoe where Andrew would start his swim. We could see all the other boats ahead of us that had started in the last hour, we were the last to get going and I could see Andrew chomping at the bit to get into the water. Andrew's final preparations of greasing and attaching light sticks were done and he quickly launched himself into the cold channel water to swim to the beach. It was watching him ready himself that I felt the strongest flash back to the start of my own swim and I was so glad I was staying on the boat this time. Caren and I were struggling with the dreaded motion sickness and before Andrew had even reached the beach Caren lent over the side and revisited her dinner. I felt queasy but not quite as desperate and we both took another sea sickness tablet. Andrew cleared the water and then jumped back in and at 2.20am he officially started his English channel swim.

The first couple of hours were pretty steady with Andrew settling into a nice rhythm and the feeds of maxim going down well. By 4am the horizon was getting lighter and the sun eventually popped up just after 5am. As the first three hours drifted by Andrew could have a support swimmer but there was no way I could rally myself at this stage. The nausea was making moving around the boat an effort and the sea sickness tablets were leaving me wiped out. That along with the cool night air the last thing I felt like doing was stripping off and jumping into the water. The hours slowly ticked by and we encouraged Andrew at each feed. Marcus the observer and Caren took turns to feed the fish on the opposite side of the boat and we saw little else of Marcus as he retired below deck to try and sleep through the ordeal!

By 7.20am we were 5hours in and tried to feed Andrew some solid food along with his energy drinks. That feed was promptly followed by a spectacular projectile vomit. Knowing exactly how he felt and having discussed this scenario before the swim, I yelled out to him to keep going and get on with the swim as if nothing significant had happened. True to form he put his head down and kept swimming. To try and boost his spirits we unfurled the first of two banners Caren had brought. The first was of their two daughters cheering him on telling him to not give up. We could see his immediate pleasure at the sight and I started to contemplate getting wet!

I eventually dragged out my wetsuit and overcoming the medication induced lethargy and persistent nausea I readied myself for a swim. At about the 6 hour mark I jumped into the English channel, I remembered vividly telling my wife Vickie if I ever contemplated swimming the English Channel again she could hit me over the head with a shovel, but I rationalised this wasn't quite what I meant. The water was cold but in a wetsuit quite comfortable, I swam beside Andrew and took some good footage with the waterproof camera. Andrew is a tad slower than me and in a wetsuit I felt like I was only floating along. The crew warned me to not get ahead of Andrew (for fear of getting him disqualified) and after 30minutes I was ready to get out. It was one of the few moments when I didn't feel too unwell, climbing out of the water I felt refreshed and energised. I made the most by eating some pot noodles and we all felt boosted by the fact that the French coastline was slowly getting clearer.

We reached halfway and Andrew still looked strong if a little cold each time he fed. His stroke count had dropped slightly but he showed no real signs of flagging. In the night we had heard of one swimmer who had pulled out but all the other boats ahead of us were making steady progress. I dozed occasionally between feeds but tried to rouse myself as often as possible to encourage Andrew each time he came along side the boat. With Caren and I debilitated by the sea sickness Fraser had become the chief supporter, he mixed up nearly all the feeds and stayed awake and attentive the whole trip, a feat that was critical to Andrew's success. At ten hours Fraser decided to jump in and I found myself temporarily in charge of feeds which took a supreme effort to steady myself and focus on the mixing of maxim and tea without contributing to the mix myself. Finally Cap seemed to be directly ahead of us probably only a few miles away and we passed the C2 buoy which marked the end of the French shipping lane but at almost that exact time the tide turned and we started moving away from the closest bit of French coastline to England. Chris the pilot was looking concerned. He had plotted our course once the tide had shifted and he could see we were getting swept further away from the coast with each passing minute. He passed a gloomy forecast that Andrew might have another 6 hours to swim before the tide turned again and would bring us back to land. We were already 12 hours into the swim at that stage and the prospect of another 6 hours appealed to Caren and I about as much as it would have done to Andrew! Fraser, Caren and I debated as to whether we told Andrew to push harder to break through the tide. Knowing how I would have been feeling at the same stage and seeing how well Andrew was swimming I was reluctant to tell him anything. He was already swimming as hard as he could and if he pushed himself even harder for 30minutes and failed to make any progress it might be the nail in the coffin mentally for him. We decided to stretch out his feeds (to reduce time spent treading water) and encouraged him to feed quickly and he got the message anyway. Thirty minutes later Chris reappeared looking much more buoyant, he informed us Andrew had broken through to the shallower in-shore waters and was now making progress towards land. He only had maybe 2 more hours to swim if he could just make it! We all felt a surge of excitement on the boat and could see Cap Blanc away to our left where we were now heading towards on the tide. The feeds ticked over and Andrew kept making what seemed like slow but steady progress. Over the radio we heard one more swimmer had given up having hit the same tidal problem as Andrew but had failed to break though. Eventually we came to the time when Chris wanted to know if Andrew needed a last feed or not and I was keen to give him a final boost before his last push to shore so we called him in one last time for an energy gel. I yelled down to him that this was his last feed and he needed to give one last push. Fraser got back in to accompany Andrew to shore and we readied our cameras. The last 500 metres were interminable, Chris had taken his boat as close to the cliffs as he was game and we were left to watch Andrew from afar. We could finally see Fraser touching the rocks and trying to find a safe place for Andrew to clear the water and then the triumphant moment as Andrew stood up in the shallows, promptly fell over and then staggered slowly out to a shallow beach. Arms raised triumphantly we cheered from the boat and the horn sounded to signify the completion of an epic swim. Marcus appeared momentarily to record a finishing time of 14hours and 40minutes exactly.

It was a wonderful moment, surprisingly I felt much more elation watching Andrew finish than I had felt at the completion of my own swim, the swimmer feels relief and gratitude that the swim is over but the support crew really feel the elation of the achievement. When Andrew finally got back on board the boat he was exhausted. He hung on to the back of the boat as they moved out to deeper water and we unceremoniously dragged him onto the deck. Overcome with emotion he realised the enormity of his swim and sat down as a wave of realisation swept over him. I could't wipe the grin of my face as I welcomed him to the club.

The next morning we went to the White Horse pub in Dover. It is a tradition to sign the wall in the pub after you have successfully completed your channel swim. I never got the chance in 2009 as the pub was closed at the time so Andrew and I sized up a square of unblemished roof space and signed our names to add to the heavily tattooed walls and roofs. Along with his signature Andrew added a thanks to his family and friends and I noted a similar message under another friend's signature which said "No-one does it alone", how very true.

MIMS 18/6/2011 - Swimming Around Manhattan With My Eyes Shut

2011-06-21T21:00:00.000-07:00

A 45km swim race is not the time to make ‘school boy’ errors but less than an hour and a half into the Manhattan Island Marathon Swim race my vision was blurring and my eyes were stinging so badly I was struggling to see. I couldn't initially work out what was wrong but even with a change of goggles I knew I was in trouble.

Four days earlier I had arrived in New York for this iconic swim. One 45km (28.5mile) lap of the rivers around Manhattan Island. Starting at the southern tip you swim up the East river under the famous Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges. Hopefully navigate the volatile currents at "Hells Gate" as you enter the slow moving Harlem River. Swim steadily up to the northern tip of Manhattan where you meet the massive, unpredictable Hudson before swimming the entire length of Manhattan back to the start. I had taken a ferry around Manhattan on my second day and tried to spot as many landmarks as possible to help me navigate myself on the swim. Two hours into the swim I was thinking to myself that all my research and preparation was getting wasted as I struggled to see my kayaker 2m away from me never mind the skyscrapers of downtown New York.

The start of the swim had gone well, I had started in the 3rd wave of fastest seeded swimmers. As the siren started I set off at a fast but manageable pace and only Erica Rose, the American Champion swimmer, had set off quicker. I was very conscious of three-time-winner Johnny Van Wisse being the man to beat and I also knew he had such great stamina that if he got away from me at the start I would never be able to reel him in. As it was, by the time my eyes started playing up I was holding 2nd place and we were passing many of the swimmers from the earlier waves.

By two hours we were well into the Harlem, the swift but churning waters of the East River were well behind and the unpredictable ‘Hells Gate’ had been expertly navigated by my kayakers. I then hit my second problem I was starting to bonk! Bonking has several meanings, but in endurance sport it refers to the dropping of blood sugar levels and the resulting deterioration of performance. I shouldn't have been feeling depleted at such an early stage and I had already had several feed stops so fueling shouldn't have been an issue but for whatever reason I had hit a wall. I eased back the tempo and just tried to grind through it knowing I would hopefully bounce back as the feeds kicked in but along with my increasingly blurry vision and a sharp ache in my right shoulder I was starting to think it wasn't going to be my day. At that moment Johnny swam past me and I thought to myself ‘well that's the last I'll see of him!’

The Harlem River is the slowest section of the race with the least tidal assistance but it is also the most dotted with bridges and I used each consecutive bridge I swam under as a little mental marker to note progress. By half way up the Harlem I was feeling noticeably better, I had increased the frequency of energy gels and my right shoulder, while still twinging occasionally, was bearable. The best boost however was that I was gaining on Johnny. I upped the tempo as I reached the top of the Harlem and moved slightly ahead of Johnny and back into 2nd place. The low swing bridge that marks the junction of Harlem and Hudson came into view and in an instant we were swept through into the expansive Hudson River. Nearly 4km away the massive vista of the George Washington Bridge was blurry but obvious. I also knew the tides were yet to swing into our favour and it would be almost an hour before we passed this last bridge. Johnny and I continued to cat and mouse, his very experienced paddler (Richard Clifford) had taken him much closer into the shore at this point where he later confided that the currents moved quickest. We had made some progress on Erica who at one point was less than a 100m ahead of us and it was all to swim for!

Behind us, one by one the following swimmers were coming into the Hudson and getting the increasing benefit of the rising tide. It was about this stage though I was really struggling with my eyes. My left eye was so sore that I had to stop every 15minutes or so to rinse it and try to relieve the intense pain I was feeling. I swam mostly with my eyes squeezed shut only opening them momentarily to check I wasn’t going off course. I had wondered whether it was sunscreen that had run into my eyes at the start but then I remembered the anti-fog spray I had liberally applied before the race. Usually I rinse the goggles thoroughly after applying the spray but we had jumped in and started so quickly I had barely immersed them before the siren had started.

As we progressed down the Hudson my vision was so blurred I could see very little of other swimmers, I could just make out some of the bigger structures along the Manhattan shoreline and I looked out for the more memorable buildings that I had seen during the boat trip a few days before. Johnny and Erica had slowly pulled away as I struggled to cope with my eye problems. Finally we hit the large piers that marked an hour or less to go and I tried to give it one last push to the finish. As we came to the last kilometers the support boats directed Johnny’s crew and mine to come closer to the shoreline, some of the trailing competitors took a wider line and made better use of the faster moving currents. I finally made out the large buoys that marked the last few hundred meters and I could suddenly see a swimmer just 20 meters ahead of me. With no idea who it was I kicked as hard as I could (which after 7 and ½ hours was a struggle!), I was making slow progress but the final bouy was suddenly upon us and we turned into the finishing area. I touched the steps just seconds behind the swimmer who turned out to be 3^rd placed Evan Morrison, he had swum the better tactical line to the finish and nipped me at the end! Johnny was less than a minute ahead and Erica a few minutes ahead of him.

My emotions at the end were a mix of happiness at completing such a memorable and iconic swim but tinged with disappointment at being so close to 2^nd and 3^rd place and falling just short. Erica swam fantastically and at the end of the day I was beaten by great swimmers in Johnny and Evan but I had gone into the race with a belief I could challenge for a win and I fell just short.

Every swim offers you opportunities to learn and improve and sadly I learned a fairly basic lesson on this one but the increased feeding regime had worked well in the end and New York is definitely a swim that inside knowledge can be a huge benefit, so if I ever get a chance to swim it again I will be very much the better for it!

This was my 8^th official marathon swim race, and like all the others before, was successful largely because of the brilliant support around me. I had two great paddlers in Terry and JC who were just fantastic and looked after me so well. My wife and mother were the official crew once again on the support boat and at every stop I could hear them yelling and encouraging me. My independent observer Darren was anything but independent! He cheered and yelled as loudly as anyone (perhaps not as loudly as Vickie). Finally my in-laws and father had also come to enjoy the spectacle and it was great to have so much personal support so far from home!

I really enjoyed New York, I met some great local and international swimmers, the local open water swim community, CIBBOWS, were incredibly welcoming and friendly and the race organisers put on a fantastic event. Who knows maybe I have some unfinished business in New York…..

Rottnest 2011 - the race that almost wasn't!

2011-02-27T18:04:00.000-08:00

Unbeknownst to me my race almost never happened. At 4.15am my support crew (my wonderful parents) headed off in the pre-dawn dark to meet our boat and boat crew at the launch spot. They arrived to help Don our boat captain launch the 'Wave 'N Looney' into the Swan river, as they all settled aboard Don turned the engine over to a resounding nothingness. Disbelief with Don was met with rising panic from my parents. With no way of communicating with me the first I would know about the boat failure would be when I reached the 1500m check point where swimmers must have met up with their boats or their race is over, it loomed as one of the shortest marathon swims I would do.

Meanwhile for me my day had started much more relaxing than the previous year. Last year I was pretty anxious about how I would find my paddler and then boat in the dawn light and I was still acutely aware of how hard I had struggled in my last big swim; The English Channel just 6 months before. In reality it had all worked out just fine and although any swim of this distance (20km) is tough I enjoyed the warm water and conditions and was happy to contemplate doing it again. So by 4.30am I had met up with Paul my paddler/kayak support on the beach and soon after I was checked in, sunscreened and vaselined up and was ready to hit the water. At 5.45am the siren sounded and we were off, like last year I quickly spotted Paul among the masses of paddlers lined along the swim chute and we headed out to the 1km mark where the boats waited. The previous year Don's boat hadn't loomed into view until nearly the 1.5km cut off mark so I wasn't overly worried when I couldn't immediately see him or even when I noticed Paul repeatedly looking around. In the back of my mind I did know if the boat had a major problem we had no way of being told, it just wouldn't turn up and I would be stopped in another 500m.

Back at the boat ramp Don had gone into Mr Fix It mode and had been running backwards and forwards to his car to retrieve a spare battery, a little juggling and jump-starting later they were in action even if a little later than planned. They took off at a rate of knots to get to Cottesloe arriving not long after I had started but knowing they still had 10 minutes to find me before the cut off. The problem was by then there was such a mass of boats in the way it was hard work just getting up to where the swimmers were and at one point they found themselves hemmed in by boats on one side, paddlers behind and an official support boat in front, a little nudging ensued, a few words were exchanged, the support boat got 'maneuvered' out of the way and finally they were in the clear. They shot threw and finally spotted Paul's kayak and with less time to spare than was comfortable we had successfully met up! I spotted my mum's fluro rain jacket out of the corner of my vision and mentally relaxed knowing that the race was really underway and it was now up to me.

My parents however weren't able to share my relief as Don soon realized he had another problem, the radio wasn’t working! Being the good honest man he is, he signaled a support boat and informed them of his dilemma and to confirm he was still contactable on his phone. The reply from officialdom was 'No radio, no race' and the stress levels started to rise again. Don wasn't to be defeated having got this far and put his mechanics hat back on to have a go with the radio, a few tense minutes later it crackled into life and after confirming it's function with ‘the powers that be’ we were back on track.

The race unfolded steadily with a race leader, the favourite Tim Hewitt, making some early ground and then a cluster of swimmers, myself included just 50-100m back. We had just started to spread a little when a large tanker decided it would head across the shipping channel and I found myself almost head butting a water traffic boat which was stopping all the swimmers. It meant a delay of about 5 or 6 minutes which instantly compressed the field again, any lead built up was gone. We finally received the all clear and set off with Tim once again setting the pace and my training partner and closest competitor Peter Thompson deciding to make a charge.

I was in 3^rd place by half way and although I had hoped for a podium finish hanging onto 3^rdwas by no means guaranteed and secretly I had hoped for better. I knew I would have a dark moment at some point – all endurance events have some hard stretches. When you are swimming in the wide open seas you have a long time in your own head and it can be very hard not to start thinking some negative thoughts. About 2 to 3 hours in I was feeling tired and with a long way still to go the support boat looked very appealing, if someone would have offered to stop the race then and accept my 3^rd place I would have jumped at it. But slowly as the kms ticked by I was closing in on Peter, having courageously blasted himself to have a crack at the win he was starting to suffer and when I finally got my 2^nd wind at the 3 and a half hour mark I had passed him. I kicked harder and increased my effort, I knew if I could keep up my pace I would be hard to catch, I just had to be able to maintain it.

At about the 4hour mark I had an ‘interesting’ experience, I was passing over a deep part of the channel, the visibility was so clear that you can see the bottom most of the way but at that moment it was just deep blue nothingness and there way below me at the limit of my vision was a shape heading in the opposite direction. I might have just assumed it was a large fish had it not been for a very distinct hammer-shaped head! Before I could even get a better look it was gone, the only consolation being it was clearly heading in a different direction to me! I wondered if I had really seen a shark and I might have been happy to believe I was mistaken if it wasn’t for the announcement of a shark sighting at the finish and then in the paper the next day a sighting of a school of 120 hammerhead and whale sharks of the coast. I’m not sure if it actually made me swim faster but it took my mind off the nausea and muscle fatigue I had been worrying about!

Why is it that no matter how fit you are the end of the race is always so hard? The last 2kms seemed to go on forever. I have enough experience now to know looking up to see if the land is getting closer is a mistake so I just kept looking across at Paul in his kayak and trying to egg myself on. Finally we started passing boats moored off shore and when Don disappeared I knew the end was less than a kilometer away. ‘Only 20 laps of the pool’ I told myself, ‘Finish strong, you don’t want to get beaten in the last 500m!’ I didn’t exactly power home but I finished well and when the sand finally loomed close, I stood up, running/staggering across the line in 4hrs and 56minutes. I turned around at the finish and was surprised to see a competitor only metres behind me. Louise Stevenson who had nearly ‘chicked’ me last year had gone even closer this time and as I congratulated her I was very relieved to unknowingly have held her off again.

Every marathon swim is a different experience. I was very glad to have been unaware of the various boat issues, my parents would have liked to have been just as ignorant! Racing 20km this year was very different and much harder than just completing it last year and to have broken 5 hours and finished 2^ndoverall was fantastic. I read in the paper the next day that Tim Hewitt was planning on skipping the race next year, I am supposed to be back living in the UK, but who knows, maybe I should have an Australian holiday come late February?

Bloody Big Swim - Bloody Big Effort

2011-01-29T16:39:00.000-08:00

Last year I swam this 11.2km event without a wetsuit and came 3rd overall only 6 minutes back from 1st place. This year I was hoping to go a little better and was prepared to sacrifice the moral high ground and don the wetsuit.

Training had been going well since an enforced 2 week break (while recovering from the flu) at new year. Some good sessions in the last two weeks making me think I was getting back to the form I had before xmas. My big rivals would be my training partner Peter Thompson and last years' winner, marathon swimmer John Van Wisse. I had a surprising boost to my title hopes with the news that John was swimming in a relay team this year and Peter had decided to only swim in his open water swimsuit and not the full wet suit (focusing on the Rottnest Channel swim next month). Quietly confident I hoped this might be my year!

I had great support from Rob Davis my paddler who had escorted me last year and knew me and the course well and I even had a boat crew lined up courtesy of the Frankston Yacht club - so all the boxes were ticked this year!

We lined up at Frankston beach for the start at 9am on Saturday the 29th Jan, and although I didn't recognise any other serious competitors there is always that nagging doubt some young gun would pop up from nowhere and nail it.

My strategy was fairly simple - to go out at a good steady pace, not to get too swept up with any excitement in the first km and hopefully build up a reasonable lead in the 2nd half of the swim, coast in for the win in about 2 and a quarter hours! As with many plans this went out of the window fairly early.

When the starting siren sounded one swimmer shot off like he was being fired out of a cannon! He sprinted into the water and by the first turning buoy was already opening up a reasonable lead. I was in second place but could see Peter was just behind me. My title ambitions seemed to be dwindling into the distance fairly early on and I knew that the pace the lead swimmer had set off at was too fast for me. If he could maintain that he would win comfortably, I hoped he might fade at the end but by then he would probably be too far away to catch.

Peter was soon tapping my feet and within a kilometre we were side by side swimming stroke for stroke. We have trained like this in the lakes, Peter breathes to his right and me to my left so we line up next to each other and push each other along in training. I was a little put off by the thought that I really should have been quicker than him given I had the more buoyant wetsuit but we were pushing each other along at a good pace and we settled in to this arrangement feeding at the same time and encouraging each other to keep the tempo up.

By an hour and a quarter (just over half way) our paddlers informed us we were about 100m behind the lead swimmer which wasn't a lot, probably just over a minute but still quite a margin to catch up at that pace. We set off again, each time one of us slowed a little the other one got slightly in front and forced the other to pick up the tempo so we kept up a really consistent speed, I felt I was going as fast as I could maintain over the distance. We had a last stop at 1hr 45min and were told we were only 60m behind now but struggling to get closer, Rob encouraged us to push if we wanted to catch the front runner. With a last word of encouragement to Pete we pushed on knowing we were probably only 2km to the finish. I could see the lead swimmers' paddler and boat and it looked like we were getting steadily closer, with 20minutes to go I started to believe we might just catch him and I tried to step up the pace. Having swum side by side with Pete for nearly 2 hours I could see I was just starting to edge ahead and although I felt a little guilty leaving my training partner and friend I was desperate to have a crack at the win. With about 500m to go I had drawn level with the lead swimmer who having been told he was being caught had tacked across to our line and tried to jump on my feet. He hung on for about a hundred metres but slowly I started pulling away from him. By now I was getting seriously fatigued and I thought I might have timed my run too early. I could just see Pete making a move behind me but he was still 15 metres off my feet. The last thing I wanted was a sprint up the beach, getting passed in the last 50m was a dire thought. So as I rounded the last buoy and turned towards the finishing line, about 100m away, I kicked with all I had and as soon as the sand was within reach I was duck-diving and then sprinting through the shallows. I crossed the line about 13 seconds ahead of Peter and just under a minute ahead of 3rd place. As it turned out he was a young gun who had beaten me in several shorter ocean swims earlier in the season. He was a very fast swimmer over the 1 and 2km distances but on the day the longer distance was a just too far for him and after 7km he had started to tire.

(3 swimmers sprint finishing!)

So a very pleasing win in 2hrs and 9minutes, Peter swam really well and would no doubt have won had he worn a proper wetsuit. I was very happy to have had such a hard fought win, and to catch the lead swimmer in such an exciting manner right at the end.

Many thanks to Rob my paddler, Matt the boat captain and my support crew; my wife Vickie and my parents who came down and found it much more exciting than many of my long swims!

(final sprint up the beach)

and so it begins again..........

2010-11-07T16:06:00.000-08:00

One last big one, is what I have told myself. In the last 2 years I've swum 5 'big' swims. A double Windermere and the English Channel in 2009. The Bloody Big Swim, Rottnest Channel and the Maui Channel this year. The main differences between the last 3 and the first 2 being relatively warm Australian/Hawaiian waters and much more sensible distances - 11km, 20km and 16km respectively. Windermere and the EC were not a lot of fun and I swore I would never do another swim like the English Channel, it was an 11hr struggle, and I spent 10 and 1/2hrs wanting to get out! The thing is though, time softens the unpleasant memories. The swimmers I have met along the way inspire me to consider other swims, the quest to tackle another monster swim starts to sound more appealing and then before you know it, it's 4am on the 1st of November and I am hunched over the computer firing off an entry into a 28mile marathon swim that some say is harder to get into than it is to finish. I thought I was prepared for the involved entry process. I believed I met all the criteria to get selected but over the next few days I keep rechecking the start list to see other swimmers names accepted but not mine. Initial frustration for not get the nod straight away starts to give way to a nagging feeling that maybe it's for the best not getting in, after all do I really want to do this? Then the email and the green tick appear - I'm in, I'm on the very select start list for the 2011 Manhatten Island Marathon Swim. 45km of cold, tidal, fairly unpleasant water! One last big one. This is it, no more after this........Mind you I've just heard my mate Howard is having a crack at the North Channel (what a swim that is) and then if I do Catalina I'd have the triple crown..............

Maui (Auau) Channel 4/10/2010

2010-10-05T15:03:00.000-07:00

I’m not normally a superstitious person, I don’t hold much weight on black cats crossing your path or walking under ladders but this last week I was starting to see things and portents of doom where I really shouldn’t have. It started with the trigger fish – (humuhumunukunukuapua’a – to give it its’ Hawaiian name). There I was doing a bit of relaxing snorkeling when I felt a little pinch on my toe, I turned around to see a brightly coloured little chap with a fetching arrow like stripe on his side watching me closely, I swam towards him thinking ‘hey little fellow, did you just bump into my foot’ and he promptly darted up to me and bit me on the finger. Now it was hardly a mortal wound, but it bled nicely for a few minutes after I had got out of the water and that night as I surfed wikipaedia I learnt I have been ‘got’ by the state fish of Hawaii. Still, I said to myself, just because a little reef fish fancied my finger doesn’t mean the larger sharper toothed varieties will find me tasty, does it?

The day before the swim I went for a last little loosener, just 2km around the ironman swim course. Half way round a felt a searing pain shoot across the back of my right hand, right across my face and down my chest and left arm, it felt like I had just been flailed. This was not the first occasion I had been hit by a bluebottle/portugese man-of-war so I knew what it was but the knowledge doesn’t really ease the discomfort, I made for home with my eyes watering and my skin burning with thoughts of how these little buggers often like to float in great numbers in the ocean, fortunately no more stings on the way back in but I wondered how many might be lined up the next day in the Maui channel. When I got back to the condo I received lots of sympathy from Vickie and an offer of a golden shower (which I declined). That night I spoke to my brother Matt about the swim and he regaled me with the story of an open water swimmer getting killed by a shark in the shallow waters off a Perth beach. Despite my protests that attacks on open water swimmers are extremely rare he did his best to convince me otherwise. It’s not wise to dwell on these things, the mind has a very active way of conceiving the worst case scenarios………..and then embellishing them.

The following morning we got up at 4am for out flight to Maui. We were treated to a 45min inter-island flight on a tiny 9-seater Cessna airplane. I had deliberately not told Vickie about the size of the craft as she has quite strong views about the safety of small airplanes (see previous paragraph about the mind and conceiving worst case scenarios). Still apart from a nagging feeling that a strong wind would tear both the wings off, it was a very scenic little flight and we picked up our hire car and headed around to Lahaina for the start of the swim. We met Jim Dickson our pilot and Mickey his crewman for the day and within about 10minutes of arriving I was in the water and swimming. Part of the haste was the concern about conditions blowing up as the morning progressed, it was already windy when we arrived and the strong currents and winds can make this crossing a notoriously choppy one. The Maui channel race the previous month had been one of the roughest on record with many teams not finishing or stopped because they were outside the 8hr cut off time. As I started I was treated to crystal clear waters, beautiful reefs and a turtle gliding about 5m beneath me. The waves initially were fairly gentle rollers coming from my right side and a little behind me so that every now and again I would get a nice push along although I was doing quite a bit of course correction to stop getting pushed off line. The first hour was easy and pleasant, the water got gradually deeper until I could no longer see the bottom but as is usually the way I don’t find myself dwelling on the deep blue beneath me on these swims, my head is happily too focused on the swim itself. I was in a nice rhythm and my main concern was not to start too enthusiastically, it was after all, going to be a good 4hrs of swimming. It’s usually about the 1.5-2hr mark that some of the negative thoughts start to creep in, not quite half way and the muscles are starting feel like they have already had a good work out. The conditions started to get quite choppy and it was getting harder to maintain the efficient relaxed stroke that is needed for a long swim. At the 2hr feed I was just over half way and I knew it was going to be a 4hr plus swim, not the 3.5hr in optimal conditions version I had secretly hoped for. I always try to break up these swims into little sections, trying not to think about how much further is left as it can weigh on the mind. ‘Swim to the next feed’ got me across the English Channel and it’s a good way to approach even more modest swims. At about the 3hr mark I remember thinking, how on earth did I keep going for 11hrs in the cold English Channel, I was feeling quite tired and the boat was looking like an attractive rest stop. Vickie however wasn’t looking like she was enjoying the boat ride. She had started off looking quite animated and moving around the boat, had progressed to sitting as still as possible to lying flat on her back and I was pretty certain the anti-nausea pill had not achieved the desired outcome. Fortunately I couldn’t hear Mickey yelling ‘follow the trail’ at one point but I had already correctly assumed she was feeding the fish.

Lanai, like all the other Hawaiian Islands is an old volcanic protrusion out of the ocean so it has a pretty high mountainous look about it This means you can see it easily a long way off (from the start) and it doesn’t appear to be getting closer until you are pretty much almost there. The last hour I manage to pick up the pace a little, I figured about 4km to go, only 80 laps of a 50m pool or one slightly long circuit of the ironman course. My shoulders were fatiguing and my neck was aching from sighting forwards so much. I could see something white on the shoreline that was getting slowly closer, I thought it was part of the beach initially but it turned out to be a boat moored just off shore (ironically it was a chartered boat that had been requested to take the occupants to a beach that was utterly deserted; where they would have no chance of bumping into other people – I mean what were the chances of someone swimming 16km just to land on their isolated beach?). The bottom suddenly came into view and like at the start beautiful coral and fish became visible. The water became shallower and Mickey informed me the boat was as close to shore as they could come (about 300m), I swam in grateful that the end was now imminent and hauled myself up onto the ‘near’ deserted beach. Maui Channel, done. I swam backstroke back to the boat and bumped into Vickie who had jumped in to meet me, she looked much happier in the water, she only vomited once on the bumpy trip back to Maui.

So another stretch of water crossed, no sharks, bluebottles or trigger fish seen. A nice, warm, tropical day out. Nearly 16km covered on the GPS in 4hours and 9min. I guess no swim of that distance is going to be easy, the heat and warmth which I had been looking forward to meant I was actually quite dehydrated by the end. Physically quite a challenge but apart from wondering how I had managed to complete more than twice the distance in the English channel I was also plotting how to improve the endurance for the next swim.
Many thanks to my pilot Jim Dickson and Mickey. Thanks to the Kona masters who let me swim with them for the weeks leading up to the swim, especially coach Steve Borowski and of course thanks to the ever present and inspiring Vickie, who gave up her day less than a week before her ironman and suffered more than I did in the name of open water swimming.

(pilot Jim, me and Mickey)

Rottnest Channel Swim 20th Feb 2010

2010-02-21T18:56:00.001-08:00

I woke on the hour with monotonous regularity the night before Rotto. During one of my fitful sleeps I dreamt I had over slept and awoken past the start time. In my dream I rang one of the paddlers in a panic to be told they had changed their minds and didn't want to accompany me after all. When I did wake I was haunted by memories of the English Channel and how unpleasant I had found it. I was starting to dread the idea of plunging into the Indian Ocean in the early hours of the morning to swim the 20km across to Rottnest Island. It was however the post English Channel restlessness that had motivated me to sign up for Rotto. After the channel whenever I was asked 'what next' I would quip 'something shorter and warmer'. In my head I was thinking 50m in a swimming pool but I had had aspirations of doing Rotto for some time and as it ticked both of those boxes (being 13km shorter and 4-5degrees warmer) I found myself signing up almost on a whim when the entries opened some 2 months after the channel.They say the hardest part of Rotto is getting a support boat and so Ifound out over the next 2 months as my various swimming and Perth contacts all amounted to nothing. I was starting to think that my entry fee was probably lost when a work colleague's, partner's, father (Don Johnson!) came good on the vague offer of a boat. The connection was as tenuous as it sounds but the same colleague also put me in contact with two paddlers (Paul and Richard) and with about 3 weeks to go I finally had a boat, paddlers and no excuse not to do another long open water swim.When my alarm finally ended my restless night at 3am I found myself in an uncomfortable mix of nerves, anxiety and doubt. The fact that I had previously swum further, longer and in much colder water was of little consolation as the combination of pre-race jitters and all the unknowns of such a novel event were weighing heavily on my mind.The Rotto swim is famous as the largest participation long distance swim of its’ kind and with 250 soloists, about 800 teams and something like 1400 boats on the water (never mind all the paddlers/kayakers) it is a massive event. It was the logistics of swimmer, finding paddler, finding boat in the dawning light amongst the mass of water activity that had me most concerned. When I spoke to past competitors my fears were not calmed as one swimmer told me how he had to tread water for 30min one year calling out in desperation for his paddler. The safety rules at Rotto are understandably rigid with swimmers without accompanying boat stopped and disqualified at the 1500m mark.At 5.30am I was giving my paddler, Paul, final instructions and desperately hoping I would be able to find him in the melée at the start. At 5.45am, with the sun threatening to creep above the horizon, the siren sounded and I plunged into the Indian ocean. The start was as frenetic and crowded as a typical ocean race with the first 100 swimmers including the fastest swimmers off en masse. Although I knew I had hours of swimming ahead of me I pushed to the front to hopefully give me a clear line of sight to the paddlers who had to wait several 100metres off shore before they could meet up with their swimmers. As I clung to the left hand side of the swimming channel I could see dozens of paddlers lined up trying to identify their competitor. Some swimmers had coloured their arms with bright zinc paint to make them more recogniseable and many of the paddlers had likewise gone with the colourful tops, hats and even flags to stand out from the crowd, all good ideas that I noted ruefully for next time. My only plan had involved being near the front of the pack and hoping by some miracle that Paul and I would spot each other. As it happened as I swam past the lines of paddlers I suddenly recognized Paul's black and red flotation vest and as I gave him a quick wave of recognition he quickly came along side of me. So that was part one - paddler found, now all we had to do was find the boat before the 1.5km mark. Paul and I were making good progress, there was only a handful of swimmers around us but the boats that were supposed to be staying back until their swimmer's waves started seemed all over the place. I could see Paul looking around and thought he might have waved once but from the water I couldn't make out our boat. Our boat was certainly not unique, a white 6m boat with a blue canopy probably fitted the description of about 800 of the boats on the water that morning, the only defining feature was the name - "Waving Looney" written in big letters on the side! The 1500m point however was obvious for the very large sailing boat anchored at this point and I could see it looming. The prospect of treading water or even a DSQ seemed quite possible, I briefly contemplated whether we could somehow sneak passed the checkpoint but the chance of Don and his boat finding us as we ploughed on out to sea would rapidly recede. But then just as I pulled level with the 1500m point I looked up to see Waving Looney churning up along side us and aboard my cheering support crew. So 20min into the race I had my boat and paddler, the sun had risen above the Perth shoreline and we were heading rapidly out to sea, I actually started to feel quite cheerful. Apart from a couple of very sharp blue bottle stings (I still have welts 48hrs later) it was very pleasant. This was a very different start to the English Channel, the sun was shining, the water was crystal clear and most importantly my teeth weren't chattering. I settled into a steady rhythm and tried not to think too much about how far I had to swim. I hear lots of long distance swimmers describe how they can zone out and slip into some sort of meditative state. I am yet to master this art. As much as I have grown to enjoy long distance swimming my mind invariably starts to contemplate how long I will be swimming for, how my body will start to tire long before I finish and how much more pleasant it would be to simply get out. I overheard one swimmer at the end remarking how he had secretly wished he had seen a shark so he could legitimately get out of the water. Strangely sharks were not something I worried about. Although Australian waters are infamous overseas for sharks and attacks do very occasionally happen, to my knowledge in the history of Rottnest swims it's never been an issue and I suspect (and hope) that the mass of water activity that occurs with Rotto is a good shark deterrent.For the first hour and a half of the swim I was able to enjoy myself, I felt good in the water, we had managed to break away from most of the pack with only a few boats ahead and several more level with us but some distance away. I didn't feel nauseous or cold. Paul and Richard rotated paddling duties. Over the next hour I started to feel a bit of fatigue but still quite strong and just before the 2 and 1/2 hour mark we reached the 10km buoy. Pace wise I was hoping to maintain 4km an hour so it was pleasing to be on track at the half way point. The chop and waves were steadily building as the swim progressed. Every 2km point from then on was marked by a buoy which enabled me to keep an eye of my pace. I could start to feel myself flagging though and the time between buoys was getting steadily longer. I couldn't help but start to imagine how much nicer a ride in the boat would be. I could also start to feel my body getting slightly cooler, I wasn't cold like I had been in English waters but it was no longer entirely pleasant. I had been hanging out for the 16km buoy as I knew this would signal the last hour but as I passed it I could see over my shoulder a couple of boats slowly closing in on me. I had no real idea of what position I was in, I had believed I was capable of a top 10 finish and hoped for a top 5. The thought of being edged out in the closing stages was frustrating but I didn't think I had much ability to speed up at that stage, I was tired and aching. I had a quick drink and Paul informed me that the nearest boat behind was a female swimmer and if I didn't want to get 'chicked' I better pick up the pace! I dug in for a final effort and started to kick harder, my arm strength was coming and going in waves. I passed the 18km mark and knew I had only 30 min left. Another boat was catching me suprisingly quickly and I wondered, correctly if it might be a relay team. As they came alongside I tried to use them to spur me on. There were buoys every 250m then and the Rottnest shore was getting rapidly closer. I felt I had enough to push on and I was determined not to leave myself wondering if I could have gone any quicker at the end ("never save anything for the swim back"). I gave my all in the last 500m and ran across the line in 5 hrs 5 min (1.5min ahead of the first female!). I was 6th overall. I felt I had given it my all and was very pleased with the swim. Above all I really felt that I had mostly enjoyed it! Sure it was long and hard work but it had all worked out at the start, the water was lovely and clear and warm, and unlike the English Channel I am already contemplating doing it again.

Channel Video - bit of fun!

2009-11-14T07:49:00.000-08:00

Postscript

2009-10-02T05:58:00.000-07:00

Well, coming up to a month down the track I can reflect with some degree of objectivity on my channel swim. I've had some nice comments about my report, although perhaps not surprisingly I don't seem to have inspired many friends to consider swimming the channel.
At the start of the year I said I wanted to test the limits of my sanity/ability. The channel certainly felt like it did that. I pushed myself well beyond any comfort zone and then on and on and on through a fairly prolonged uncomfortable zone. I can honestly say I was successful in thoroughly testing my physical and mental limits!

The most common post swim comment I have had is "What next?". To which I generally quip "Something shorter and warmer". There is naturally an immense sense of achievement and all the positive feedback from friends and family helps me to appreciate why so many go back for more. Why some even go for multiple crossings. For me, swimming the channel was never meant to be about recognition. It was about challenging myself and testing my limits, to that end I feel I have achieved what I set out to do. What next? Does there even have to be a next? Is there any great benefit to be had by further pushing the boundaries of sense and physical achievement? That question I do not have an answer to........................yet.

Swimming the English Channel - 8/09/2009

2009-09-12T04:23:00.001-07:00

I can honestly say I didn’t enjoy one mile of my cross channel swim. I have described it as 11hrs of extreme mental torture and without over stating it that’s what it felt like. I am of course elated now to have completed the swim, immensely satisfied and above all relieved, but the actual swim was without doubt the hardest, most mentally and physically challenging thing I have ever attempted.

I have read many blogs and accounts of channel swims; some describe the excitement of finally tackling the ‘Everest’ of open water swimming. The joy of finally doing what has been months and years in the preparation. There’s no doubt I was excited and glad to have finally gotten my opportunity (at one stage I was worried that the weather might conspire against me and I would be left stranded on Dover harbour at the end of September), but once in the water all the excitement and positivity gives way to the reality of what you are doing.

My start time was to be approx 12.30am – an hour before high tide on the 8/9/09. After loading up the boat and filling in the appropriate paperwork we motored around to one of the beaches just south of Dover harbour. I stripped to my speedos and greased up as we watched another boat that had arrived just before us sound the starting siren for their swimmer. At 12.45am I found myself standing on the back of the boat, readying myself to launch into the water. I suppose at that moment it would have been appropriate to be reflecting momentarily on what I was finally about to embark upon but to be honest the only thought in mind was whether my goggle strap was tight enough. And so I jumped into the cold sea water and swam quickly to the rocky beach. You have to clear the water for the official start so I scrambled up the rocky beach and waved to the boat (they had a spotlight trailing on me to ensure I was completely clear), and then the siren blasted.

The cold had always been my concern; the sea temperature was reading 17.5 degrees mid channel. The last training swim in Dover (a few weeks earlier) had been very pleasant, but that was on a warm sunny day. Swimming in cold sea water in the middle of the night with no sun to warm you is a very different matter. I had expected to be cold in the first few hours and I knew it would be almost toughest at the start (with so much still ahead of me), but I knew I was in for a long night when within 30 minutes I could feel the cold eating away at me. So began the mental battle that continued for the next 11hrs, the little voice that willed me to swim over to the boat and get out, to the warmth, to end the misery. Every time the boat edged ahead of me I could see the steps on the back of the boat and they seemed to beckon me, tempt me to climb onboard. At those weak moments I would try breathing to the other side and not look at the boat and banish those thoughts. I tried all sort of tricks to distract myself. I would think of all the people that had supported me, my wife on the boat, her unwavering encouragement and pride in my swimming. Also on the boat my father-in-law Mike, whose battle with pancreatic cancer had been one of the motivating spurs to get me to commit to the channel swim. His presence on the stern of the boat in those early hours, watching me made me feel protected somehow. I tried to think of movies I enjoyed to get my head to think of something other than the pervasive cold but as the cold became more consuming my ability to think of anything else became more and more limited. It was all I could do to keep swimming, every time I thought of getting out I would say to myself ‘You can’t get out now, you’ve only been in for an hour, it’s pathetic, swim to your next feed’, then it was ‘You’ve only been in for 1 and a ½ hours, keep going, you aren’t that cold, your teeth aren’t even chattering”. At the 2 hour mark my teeth started chattering.

Every 30 minutes I was given a hot energy drink with some tinned fruit added. It was a formula we had used in the long Windermere swim and in the channel initially seemed to be fine but by the 3 hour mark I was violently sick. I kept the next feed down but then at the 4 hour feed again bad vomiting. My throat burned from the salty vomit. I took an anti sickness pill after that and my pilot Alison Streeter changed my feeding regime to a different energy drink and fortunately that seemed to settle the nausea. Every third feed became energy drink, plus sugar plus instant coffee. My support crew thought it was vile but for some reason I really liked it and began to look forward to that particular concoction.

After 5 hours of swimming the sky started to lighten and by 5.5 hrs dawn broke and I had reached the separation zone (the half way point in the channel). It was one of the few positive moments of the swim. For some reason the water temperature felt marginally warmer and the sight of the sun creeping up above the watery horizon was a mental warmer too. The separation zone is the 1 mile strip of water that separates the English and French shipping lanes – some of the busiest shipping lanes in the world. I soon entered the French shipping lane and for the next few hours watched massive tankers and occasional ferry ships zipping passed me. I was amazed how quickly they moved up close. From the shore they seem to chug slowly across the distant seas but up close they zoomed into view and whizzed passed me leaving their choppy wake to unsettle my rhythm. I knew the shipping lane was about 5 miles across and had hoped to be clear of it in 2 hours or so but I made the mistake of not accounting for the strong spring tide which had turned by this point and was whisking me southwards diagonally across the shipping lane. Every time I saw a tanker passing behind me I thought I might be clearing the shipping lane only to then see another in the distance still ahead of me.

In the channel they tell you to swim from feed to feed. Don’t be distracted by the distant goal or it will become insurmountable. If you start looking for the French shore you will be looking for hours and it will not appear to get any closer. I found myself looking forward to each 30 minute feed. Despite the fact I still felt nauseous the feeds broke up the monotony and it was something tangible to concentrate on other than the cold and fatigue. Every feed the crew would shout encouragement and pass on well wishes. Text messages from Australian and English family and friends. My friend Rob on board would reach down and hand me my next feed and tell me how strong I looked and the observer Andy would yell words of support. I even heard Ali call out once from the boat (an honour to receive encouragement from the queen of the channel).

Time did start to pass quicker in the 2nd half on the swim, I would like to say it was because I was fighting the demons better but I had given up trying to push the negative thoughts out of my head, they were far too pervasive. I refused to allow myself to think of the end goal in case the distance of it became too much. I accepted the cold and the nausea and the aches in the muscles and just tried to push myself to the next feed.

Twice I complained of the cold. A pointless exercise if ever there was one. Vickie knew how cold I had got at Windermere and afterwards I told her I didn’t want to complain about it because it would make it a bigger issue than it already was. A part of me was thinking if I tell them how cold I am then it won’t be so much of a shock if I get out. After the channel Vickie told me how worried she was when I was sick and complained of the cold, it was certainly a sign of how fragile the mental situation had become.

At the eight hour mark my arms started to feel really heavy, like they were three times their size and made of lead. It was just like it had been at Windermere and had happened at exactly the same time stage. At Windermere I had had only an hour left to swim and could see the finish point in the distance. In the channel I was still in the French shipping lane a long way from the coast and I started to wonder if this was really it, had my body finally reached the limit. I kept trying to focus on the stroke, ‘long and strong’, ‘long and strong’. Trying not to let my technique and efficiency suffer, and then after about 30 minutes the feeling went away. I didn’t magically feel great but I didn’t feel quite as bad as I had been.

I finally passed the last tanker, it came storming up to us and passed about 100m behind the boat, it seemed to take up the whole of my view when I breathed to the right it was so large. For a moment I was worried it might just mow us down and then just as quickly it had disappeared behind me and I was in the French inshore waters.

At my next feed Rob cheerfully informed me I was 3 miles from Cap Griz Nez, in the next breath he said ‘but you’re going to miss it with the tide so you’ve got probably 5 miles still to swim’. I know he was being helpful but I could have punched him. I figured another 2 hours of swimming and so I started to think that was maybe only 3 or 4 more feeds. The French coast was visible but I forced myself not to look at it between feeds as I knew it would not get closer quickly. At one of my last feeds Vickie encouraged me by telling me we were so close she could see the rocks but Ali had told them not to get too carried away as the tide was sweeping me southwards so quickly it wasn’t clear how soon I would be able to get into the shore. Vickie kept asking me if I wanted her to get in but I wanted to save her for the final push to shore and so when I came to the 11 hour feed and she asked me again I said ‘Is this my last feed?’ the reply was ‘Just keep going, keep swimming’ and so again I told Vickie to wait on the boat and swam on. To be honest although the shore looked close I was struggling to focus and couldn’t tell if I had 100m to swim or 2km. And then suddenly the shore was there, the rocks and boulders were tangible they were only 50m away and I finally knew I had made it. There was a stage in the swim that I had wondered if I made it to France would I cry with joy but when I finally felt the rocks beneath my feet I felt only an overwhelming sense of relief, relief that it was over.

I swam up to a large boulder at the waters edge and hauled myself out of the water. To officially finish you need to be completely clear of the water. I gingerly stood up, turned around and waved to my boat where I could see everyone cheering and waving enthusiastically. I was so exhausted I sat down on the rock and stared at the boat thinking how little I wanted to get back into the water and swim the 50m or so back to the boat. I also knew that the boat was the real end to this swim and I would start to suffer from the cold very soon so I eased back into the water and swam somewhat erratically back to the boat.

On the boat I was cocooned in towels, blankets and old clothes but it took about an hour for the shivering to stop. I slept the rest of the way back to Dover.

Several days on I do feel an immense amount of pride and satisfaction in what I have achieved and still an enormous amount of relief that I didn’t succumb to the demons. I have said to Vickie that if I ever even mention swimming the channel again she can club me over the head with a shovel. The next swim will be shorter and warmer, 50m in a pool sounds good.

I swam 1300kms in the eight months up to swimming the channel. It became nothing short of an obsession. I thought about it daily and even dreamt about it on numerous occasions. It took over my life for much of this year and I am looking forward to being a little less selfish about my time and priorities. I know my mum is glad it’s over!

To everyone who helped me along the way thank you so much. I trained with the Yarra Roughies and Ice-bergers in Melbourne. With Cheltenham Swim Club, Gloucester Masters and Cheltenham Tri Club in Cheltenham. I swam in Dover harbour with all the other channel aspirants under the watchful gaze of Freda, Barrie and the gang. What they do every weekend from May to September is just amazing. My bosses and partners at work. My friends who encouraged and swam with me. Rob, Mike and Andy on the boat. The wonderful Alison Streeter and crew. And the most important person of all, the one who still inspires and made me feel warm when the cold and dark were at its worst, my wonderful wife Vickie.

(Observer Andy, Crewman Brian, me and the great Alison Streeter)

I made it!!!!!

2009-09-08T13:07:00.000-07:00

This is the briefest of posts as I will go into more details when I have had a chance to sleep and reflect on what was without doubt the hardest, most mentally draining experience of my life. I am so so glad to have completed the swim, my crew (wife, father-in-law, and friend Rob) were brilliant, Alison and her crew were sensational and helped sort me when the guts went pear shaped and the observe Andy Dickson was just a wonderful helpful encouraging force.

I landed just South of CGN, having been swept slightly past the point by the big tide, in a time of 11hrs 6min. I am just literally over the moon to have completed what had become an all consuming obsession this year.

More to come..........

I've had "The Call"

2009-09-04T05:40:00.000-07:00

My pilot has contacted me to say there's a window of opportunity Monday night. The conditions look like they will be relatively calm. 12.30am start to be precise, looks like a mild night. The tide is a bit big (it's about as big as they get - 6.7m) but if the conditions are good and if I can get across within two tidal movements than I hope to be landing on the French shores some time late Tuesday morning. The excitement is building!!

Carbo loading with intent!

Weather forecast not looking great!

2009-08-24T06:16:00.000-07:00

I had a wonderful weekend in Dover just gone. The sun shone all day Sat and Sunday. I met up with a doctor from Australia - Stuart, who is over to swim the channel and for the first time I had someone to swim with which made the time go much more quickly. I swam 3hrs both days and when I got out on Sunday I didn't even feel cold. However the weather forecast for this week has taken a dive and it doesn't look great for many crossings at this stage. My pilot also has an extra swimmer to get across so I would be very unlikely to go before the start of next week or maybe not even until the next tide in another 2 weeks (my original tidal window). I'm not too worried about it, I haven't booked time off work because I knew it could be unpredictable. The major disadvantage is that schools go back and Vickie will be back at work which makes things trickier if I get a call at short notice. Such is the nature of channel swimming. We'll just have to wait and see..............

Set to go!

2009-08-19T05:20:00.001-07:00

Looks likely that I will be swimming the channel towards the end of next week. The next window starts the 26th August and my pilot Alison Streeter only has two other relay teams set to go. Weather dependant of course but I have put my order in for calm seas, baking hot sunshine and a very swift crossing. Here's hoping it all comes together.

Windermere Success!!

2009-08-10T07:40:00.001-07:00

Saturday night the 8th of September was the bi-annual, 2-way, 21 mile, Lake Windermere swim. Below is my account of this rather gruelling event.

We drove up to the Lake District last Saturday afternoon arriving just before 5pm to see the first wave of 3 swimmers entering the water. One chap was being filmed for an ITV documentary and entered the water initially in gladiatorial cape, helmet and sword before reverting to the regulation speedos and swim cap. I managed a quick snooze before we had to start getting ready for our 8.30pm start time. 4 other swimmers had started at 6.30pm and there were 6 in my wave. My support crew (everyone had to be accompanied by a rowing boat) was Grant Bates (my cousin), Hugo Hedley (a Cheltenham friend) and Vickie (my wife). They all strangely seemed to enjoy the experience; Hugo even thanked me at the end for accompanying him on his overnight rowing adventure. At the start I greased up, well assisted by Grant who seemed to enjoy covering me in grease more than Vickie thought was appropriate. I met a man from Liverpool at the start who was in one of the official support boats, he recognized me from Liverpool Penguins having coached me 26 years ago! He has also swum the channel and said he was the only scouser to do so. When I said I could be the 2nd he replied “Not with that accent you can’t!”. We started at 8.45pm and I quickly shot away from the ‘pack’. About an hour in I had cooled somewhat and had a little mental wobble as I wondered why on earth I was doing this crazy swim but fortunately soon after we came upon Belle Island which is just under half way down the lake and that re-enthused me. We turned at the end of the lake in just under 4hrs 20min and I wondered briefly whether I might get close to the record of 8hrs 44min. The return leg was a real mental test as I tried to just swim from each 30min feed to the next one (old channel advice). Eventually we came upon Belle Island again and I began to feel that the end was attainable. I had suffered increasing nausea through the return leg and was eating/drinking less and less and by the last hour my arms felt like lead. We could see the lights on the pier at the finishing site for over an hour and it seemed to take an eternity to get closer. As the sky started to lighten I felt strangely amused by the thought that I had swum all through the night, starting at dusk and finishing at dawn. I eventually finished in dead on 9hrs, the 2nd fastest male time ever (I think one lady has swum faster also). I was the first finisher, having past all the earlier swimmers through the night and I was just over an hour faster than the 2nd placed swimmer. I had only really entered this event as a good pre-channel test. The same distance and a chance to practice night swimming and feeding. Jimmy (the scouser) said it is 30% harder to do Windermere with less buoyancy in the fresh water and water and air temperatures generally colder than what you face in the channel. I do feel very encouraged by the swim, on previous Windermere and Channel finishers times it seems that the Channel takes 30min to an hour longer to do, tides, currents and chop probably adding to the duration. 5 weeks to the channel although there is a chance I may go in 3 weeks (the tide before) if an opening is available. Alison, my pilot is keen to take swimmers early if they are ready to avoid missing a slot on their own tide if the weather is bad.
24hrs on, I don't feel too bad, my shoulders are a bit stiff. Ironically Alison texted me this morning to see if I was ready to go this Wednesday (she had got her swimmer lists confused), I think Wednesday was pushing it recovery wise anyway!

Spewtastic Dover and Lake Windermere is on!

2009-08-03T13:19:00.001-07:00

I have had some big weekends down in Dover harbour. Two 6hr swims, Saturday and Sunday a fortnight ago and a 6hour and a 3hour this weekend. I know what your thinking, why only a 3hour swim? Well I am now in quick taper mode for a 2-way Windermere swim this weekend: 21miles, fresh water, overnight. I didn't receive confirmation until today and to be honest I wasn't sure if I was happy or disappointed to discover my application had been received and accepted. But it's too late to back out now. I was first motivated to enter after the Champion of Champions race at the end of June when I caught up with Mike Read (33 English channel crossings and a 4-way Windermere under his belt). He said if you can swim a 2-way Windermere you can swim the channel. It also gives you some much needed practice of feeding and night swimming (lots of that). After some encouraging feedback from other channel swimmers I decided to enter and have roped in my wife Vickie, my cousin's husband Grant and a friend Hugo to be my support/rowing crew.
I am hoping the guts are a bit happier in the fresh water than on the weekend. Several spectacular vomits in Dover harbour. Possibly the salt water or maybe the chocolate rolls they feed you on the hour. I am hoping for a calmer digestive experience. I have also invested in some channel grease for the swim - I intend to lather it on like plaster. The more insulation the better, still not very keen on the c.c.c.c.cold.

To wetsuit or not to wetsuit.

2009-07-16T11:29:00.000-07:00

I never appreciated the complete disdain that wetsuits are held with by some members of the open water swimming community. When I was in Melbourne at Easter I was welcomed to swim with the Black Rock swimming gang but warned not to wear a wetsuit under any circumstances. The British Long Distance Swimming Association runs lots of swimming races over here but standard swimming costumes only are allowed (dick togs for the blokes). Of course the English Channel swims are only recognised if the same swim suit restrictions have been adhered to i.e. no cheating wetsuits.

Personally this doesn't greatly bother me, I'm faster in a wetsuit but not that much, and it certainly doesn't help me as much as the average triathlete. I would be more than happy if all my open water swimming races were non-wetsuit. This does however create an issue when I compete in a race that does allow the use of wetsuits. Do I succumb to the benefit of the wetsuit or take the high moral ground that wearing a wetsuit dilutes the achievement, it takes away from the purity of open water swimming, if you can wear a wetsuit, why not fins and paddles? This year I have swum all my races non-wetsuit. After all I am training for the channel and there's no point getting use to a wetsuit that I will not be able to wear on the big day.

Two weekends ago I swam in a 3.8km lake swim. I finished 4th, 15seconds off the podium and 2minutes behind 1st place. All three of the guys that finished ahead of me wore wetsuits (in fact so did about 195 of the 200 entrants). The extra 3-5 seconds I would gain per hundred metres would have lifted me into 1st or at least 2nd place (in fact the 2nd and 3rd placed swimmers I had beaten comfortably in a 1500m pool race the week before). I did have the satisfaction of knowing I had beaten the majority of the wetsuited field in my speedos, although a small (highly competitive) part of me would have been much happier with a podium finish.

So what happens after this channel swim is all done and dusted? Will I continue to race sans wetsuit or return to the fold and eliminate any advantage I am giving away? Personally I think the competitive edge will win out, I like the purity of non-wetsuit swimming but I like winning even more!

Fame at last!!

2009-07-06T07:17:00.000-07:00

http://www.thisisgloucestershire.co.uk/news/Vet-tackle-Channel-charity/article-1118153-detail/article.html

Above is the link to an article written in the local rag last week. Alright, not exactly international recognition and they did get the distance wrong (at least they over-estimated), plus apparently I'm told it's not a great photo but hey, at least I made page 14!

Champion of Champions - that had to be more than 9miles!

2009-06-21T08:36:00.000-07:00

Well a weekend somewhat reminiscent of my first trip to Dover at the start of May. Saturday started with the Champion of champions race in Dover Harbour - a 5mile race at 9.15am, followed by a 3mile race at 1.30pm, followed by a 1 mile race at 4.30pm. Before I start bragging I suppose I better fess up, yes, I was beaten by a girl. My total aggragate times of 3hrs 39min left me first male and 2nd overall, 1 and a half minutes behind last years' winner Caroline Ball. Although I am chuffed at winning another oversized trophy I suffered in the 3 mile race after over cooking it somewhat in the 5 mile. I finished 1st in the 5 mile by a couple of minutes and had pushed hard at the end to try and maximise my over-all lead and about half way through the 3 mile race my muscles were so lactated up that I had a struggle to even finish feeling physically exhausted and cold. The last 1 mile race was a comfortable "sprint" and although I made up some more time on Caroline I had lost too much in the 3 mile finishing behind some of the youngsters who hadn't already done the previous races (having chosen only to compete in the shorter events). I learnt some useful lessons though. Firstly - the cold water is not very forgiving if you fatigue yourself by sprinting when you need to be conserving. Secondly although they describe it as a 1 mile circuit, they also described it like that last year when the same swimmers where swimming 6-10minutes quicker per lap, so either it was very short last year or somewhat long this year. Personally it felt like a long mile to me (especially the 7th and 8th miles).

I stayed in Dover Saturday night in preparation for a long training swim on Sunday morning. I had hoped to do 4 hours in the water but after only two I was really suffering in the cold. I didn't feel significantly fatigued but I couldn't warm up and as I stopped for a 2hour feed it took all of my willpower to push off again and after just under 3hours I got out. I guess the 9mile race had probably taken more out of me than I cared to admit, I certainly hadn't felt the cold after the 5mile race the day before which I had swum in just under 2hrs, but I was dissapointed not to have been able to keep going. So much of the long cold swimming is about mental fortitude and knowing you can keep swimming when your body doesn't want to. I still have much to work on. I think my fitness is very good but as they say it's 20% physical and 80% mental. The water temperature now is about 14.5 degrees but will be 3 or 4 degrees warmer when I make my attempt in September. My goal now has to be to do more and more long cold swims and build up my tolerance and mental strength in the cold water. A few more kilos of fat wouldn't hurt either.

50km, 1000 lengths, one pool.

2009-06-14T09:51:00.000-07:00

Big week of training in the LIDO this week. As I finished my 12km pool set this morning (longest pool set to date) I totted up the kms and was glad to have reached the 50km I had set for the week. That's 1000 lengths this week. I was met by Ron at the gate on the way out, Ron is as much a feature of the LIDO as the brickwork, and thanks to 78years in the sunshine he is just as brown. Ron filled me in on some of the lifeguards who have attempted the channel swim. "There was a girl here once who trained all summer" he said, "She headed down to Dover at the start of September and sat waiting all month for the weather to clear and never got a start. Then there was this lad who was going to be the first chap to swim it backstroke. He got to within a few miles of France and was vomiting up over his face, in the end the tide turned and he was getting swept backwards 200m for every 100m he swam so they pulled him out". I think at that moment Ron felt slightly sorry for me, "of course you'll make it" he added quickly. "Thanks Ron" I muttered, at least the vomit is less likely to hit your face when you are swimming frontcrawl I suppose.

Next weekend I am looking forward to a trip to Dover and the Champion of Champions race - a 9 mile race, split as 5, 3 and 1 mile races. I shall make a weekend of it with a big swim in the harbour Sunday morning also. The water temperature is a balmy 14.5 degrees according to the weather station in the channel. I think the pink budgy smugglers might get an outing. Don't think I'll be bothering with backstroke.

Speedo swimsuit size = barrel

2009-06-09T04:36:00.000-07:00

I have a few pool competitions this year and have decided to retire my now rather threadbare fastskin swim suit. I was trying to work out my size on the speedo sizing chart and discovered that I don't comfortably fit into their S, M, L, XL range. My height and leg length seems to put me into a medium suit but my chest and waist are somewhat off the top of the scale. With all the training I have gained 4 inches around the chest (44inch) and all the eating has given me an extra 2 around the waist. I am officially a barrel size, or as my wife gleefully suggested 'squat'. Strangely 'barrel' or 'squat' are not part of the official sizing chart. I'll probably just stick with medium and hope the zip doesn't give way with all the strain required to keep my man boobs in check. Of course I could just stick with the budgy smugglers, maybe I'll wear them on the outside?

Grecian swimming and another win for the smugglers

2009-06-06T05:51:00.000-07:00

Well a very enjoyable week of swimming in the warm Mediterranean waters. Almost 50km was achieved in a very pleasant fashion. Swimming through warm (20 degrees), calm, clear blue sea water, good for the mileage but in terms of similarities to swimming the English Channel probably only the salt content was much the same. I think the locals thought I was pretty mad, one day I swam most of the length of the island to join the family for lunch (8km) and then afterwards swam back again. The waiter who served us was interested to hear what I was doing that day, he said "I don't think anyone's ever done that", I got the distinct impression he was thinking no one would want to swim up and down the length of the island when there was perfectly good roads to drive on.

So recap for May - 192.5km, won the Lido sprint, swam in Dover Harbour and froze my bol*&cks. Plan for June - swim in Champion of Champions race in Dover Harbour, 1500m pool race and otherwise lots more swimming, see if I can top 200km for the month and 85kg!

I had the pleasure of a lake swim on Thursday evening, a 1.9km (approx) race in Herefordshire. Out came the pink Budgys. Not a particularly big field (about 40 swimmers), good to see 3 others who weren't wearing wetsuits (one of them being Dave Granger another channel aspirant). The water temp was surprisingly warm (low 20s) but the visibility (none) was more reminiscent of Dover Harbour. I shot off at the start and found I had opened a comfortable lead by the first buoy - the benefits of all this fitness is knowing that your are not going to struggle on the 2nd lap of a 1.9km swim. I finished 2.5 minutes ahead of the nearest wetsuit. I was slightly put out by the 2nd placed swimmer who claimed he lost my feet because I swam off course towards the first buoy, the fact that he was over 2 minutes slower than me seemed to have been lost on him.

We had another good training session yesterday morning at the Lido. I say "we" although "we" has grown from 4 swimmers to about 15. Apart from Dave and myself the rest are triathletes (and therefore wetsuited). I started off a month ago doing my own thing, fitting in a 4km session in an hour. Gradually it got modified to allow for other swimmers who tagged on the back and now it has become a regular feature with more and more people joining the session at the back of the lane. Somehow I have become session creator and lane leader. As long as they understand it's my lane, my session and my way or the highway I don't think there will be a problem.

Tony Cherrington Cup and 'teabags' with sunglasses

2009-05-20T08:56:00.000-07:00

I thought I would show off the impressive trophy that I won in the Lido sprint. The largest trophy I have ever won by some way and yet relatively probably one of my least impressive swims. It was neither a particularly fast time nor did I beat a vast field of sprinters to secure the title. Still as in life the reward doesn't always match the achievement.

The opening of the Lido has meant most of my training now is in this wonderful outdoor 50m pool and I am enjoying the cold mornings and still relatively quiet attendance. I was amused to note that in the Lido the 'teabags' (people who just bob up and down the pool) can sometimes be seen wearing sunglasses while swimming. I use the term 'swimming' loosely as I don't believe you can really claim to be swimming if you are trying to keep your face and hair dry, wearing sunglasses and sedately breastroking up and down the pool. Instead what you are doing is really just a form of floating. Perhaps 'directed floating' would best describe this activity. I've never held breaststroke in high regard anyway, it's clearly not a real stroke if you can do it with sunglasses on instead of goggles.

My biggest achievement this month has been the 3kg of weight gain I have achieved. Finally I am seeing some results. I think I have achieved this by switching from a stuff your face at mealtimes approach to an 'eat constantly through the day' philosophy. The girls at work are getting sick of me whinging about how hard it is to put on weight as I munch a large block of chocolate each morning and a packet of biscuits each afternoon. They think it is grossly unfair and now I have started asking them for sponsorship they are asking why they should be paying me to torture them on a daily basis.

Off to Greece for a week. It is a holiday really but it should be a great training week, the sea temperature should be high teens, perfect for comfortable sea swimming and I hope considerably clearer and more attractive than Dover Harbour.

Well over 600km now for the year, 3kg of insulation added and now a trip to the Mediterranean, May has been a very positive month, only a little over 3 to go to the big swim.

LIDO visibility update

2009-05-06T05:01:00.000-07:00

I've been told off by one of the lifeguards at the LIDO - the visibility is now crystal clear. So clear you can see all the crap on the bottom of the pool.................just kidding. Sometimes I am surprised by the people that read my blog, actually I'm surprised that anyone reads my blog. I hope it provides some sort of entertainment, or amusement.

Budgy Smugglers win LIDO sprint and Dover shivers.

2009-05-04T07:03:00.000-07:00

Well after several somewhat mundane weeks of training and work at least I have had a weekend of interesting swimming to report on. This was the first weekend of Dover swimming for the year and I was keen to experience the cold channel waters for the first time. As it happened my trip was delayed by a minor pet incident (terrier 1, viszla 0) that kept me in Cheltenham on the Saturday. However it gave me the perfect excuse to head down to the season opening of the Sandford lido, our outdoor 50m pool here. I warmed up with a gentle 4km session, less enjoyable than normal as the water had taken on the appearance of grey soup thanks to the accumulation of concrete dust from recent building work. Still as several people pointed out it was good open water training as you had to keep lifting your head up to sight the lane ropes, the wall, other swimmers etc. They also held the annual LIDO sprint, a one length dash open to all comers. I suppose I should put this in perspective, this is not a particularly serious race, the competitors are a mix of kids in board shorts, a few blokes pressed into action by their wives/girlfriends and the odd serious swimmer who happened to be there on the day. So it was no real surprise that my main competition was from Dan a young lad from the local swim club and Colin from the equivalent masters club. Dan and Colin raced each other in the first heat with Dan narrowly pipping Colin and I had the second heat mostly to myself (you can see two young lads with their feet still rooted to the poolside in the picture). In the final Dan had the misfortune of being placed in the large unlaned section of the pool which wouldn't have been an issue if it wasn't for the fact that the visibility (or lack of) meant he had to swim with his head up to avoid sprinting into the side wall. Colin and I had lane ropes to guide us when we breathed and I managed to just out touch him at the end. I now have the somewhat dubious honour of claiming the sprint in the slowest winning time on record (of course I am blaiming the concrete dust). I should also point out that my two main rivals Dan and Colin were respectively nearly 20years younger than me and nearly 20years older than me so if I hadn't won I wouldn't be bragging about coming second.

DOVER:

So Sunday morning was an early start as I drove down to Dover. 3 hours from Cheltenham and I have to admit I was very excited driving into Dover, I could see the harbour below me, the white cliffs ahead and in the distance out to sea, the French coast, I couldn't help but think "That doesn't look so far away!". I made way down to the beach and joined the throng of swimmers preparing for the morning's session. I was starting to feel a little anxious about how I was going to cope with the water temperature of only 10 degrees. We were given our caps and numbers and instructions; 35min if this was your first swim, 45min if you were there on the Saturday. Quietly I decided was going to do at least 45min - I hadn't driven all this way to get out after 30minutes......maybe. I did at least follow the suggestion to stick close to the shoreline at the start in case the cold got too much. So without much ceremony we were sent off, I didn't waste time tiptoeing into the water, I waded in and dived under, I came up hyperventilating and the most painful part wasn't my head, hands or feet it was the bits in the speedos that were making their discomfort known, they had obviously decided freezing water was not in their job description and were trying to retract back into my abdomen. Fortunately after only a minute the worst had passed and I felt suprisingly good. It was so cold that it almost felt like my skin was burning and as long as I kept moving I didn't mind it at all. I swam for just over 50 minutes and exited towards the back of the crowd. As I staggered up the stones one of the volunteers asked me for my number, "Number? What number?" I mumbled (my lips were quite numb by this stage), "The number we gave you on your cap", I looked at him as if he was mad, "well" I said slowly "What does it say on my cap?". He looked at me as if I were slightly challenged "This is supposed to check if you are coherent after the cold, now put some clothes on before you start shivering". I made my way to my bag still feeling OK, towelled off and started putting on the layers, and then it hit me; the shivering, the teeth chattering the uncontrollable shaking. I somehow managed to get my clothes on before it got too bad but I spent the better part of thirty minutes slowly warming up. This was by far the worst part and I hadn't expected it, I thought getting in or swimming would be the worst bit but by far it was the aftermath. The whole process repeated itself when we got back in for a second swim just after midday, the swim was fine and I managed another 50minutes but I made a quick dash to my clothes to change as quickly as possible before the cold overtook me. I drove back with the heating on full blast for 30minutes before I started to feel normal again. All in all it was a great experience, lots to think about, my reaction to the cold was in some ways better and in some ways worse than I had expected. At least the pink budgy smugglers got a double outing this weekend and I now have a very large trophy to show off............for beating a 15 and a 55 year old in a 50m soupy sprint.

Farewell Melbourne/feats of madness

2009-04-14T00:26:00.000-07:00

So that's it, a month of antipodean culture and sunshine has come to an end, and what an end! Nearly 4 hours in the bay this morning with Kevin and Paul (fellow channel swimming aspirees). I think about 16km in total, not quite half way across the channel but not too far off it! Water temp 17.4 degrees (63 degrees Farenheit for those stuck in the dark ages). Cool but not unpleasantly so and although the muscles were tired by the end it was not exhausting.

A little over 30km in the last 3 days is a good finish to my Melbourne stint. I was a little worried at the start of this trip that work might seriously impact on how much training I could do but fortunately the boss was able to give me enough time off to fit in a good deal of training (the benefit of being self-employed).

One of the sunbathers at the Brighton sea baths was very complimentary of my swimming as I launched myself in for my final 2.7km lap, apparently I had been spotted churning up the waters these last few days and had been suspected of training for a channel crossing. Most people (me included) think swimming the channel is a pretty wild thing to attempt. It seems to be one step beyond the sort of feats of endurance that people would consider laudable and possibly 'if only I was fit enough I would like to attempt such a thing'. Instead it falls into the realms of why on earth would you do something so daft?

Maybe that's part of the appeal, to achieve something that is so beyond your own and most people's expectations that you fall into the niche of madness or incredible or possibly incredibly mad. Whichever I am I hope I can rise to the challenge, better to attempt at madness than to be left wondering if you ever tested the limit of your sanity...................maybe.

(Check out the link to the aerial photo of Brighton sea baths and marina - below right)

March Stats

2009-04-05T19:05:00.000-07:00

So the stats for March are in:

Total Kms swum = 152.65km

Ave Kms/day = 4.92km

Most Kms in a day/week = 11km/40km

Weight at end of March = 78kg

Total weight gain since Jan = 0kg........damn

Number of nights gone to bed feeling like I'm going to throw up from vast quantity of food eaten = at least 20

Moments of worry about lack of weight gain and possible channel hypothermia = lots and lots

It might be argued that trying to gain weight on a vegan diet while burning vast quantities of energy training madly is probably not a formula for getting fat. I had a discussion with a channel swimmer last week who cheerfully informed me he had lost 13kgs during his channel swim. Great, I do not have 13kg to lose right now. It also seems that everyone I have chatted about this has the same three comments; no 1) drink lots of beer (cause that will fit in really well with my training schedule) no 2) what do you expect on your diet and no 3) I wish I had your problem.

April has arrived and the end of my Melbourne stint is just over a week away. The next month will bring cold water training in the UK, something I'm not really looking forward to but at least will give me a greater awareness of the challenge I face in September. I shall persevere with the attempted weight gain - more soy icecream, more protein shakes, more olive oil drizzled over my food until it looks more like a soup than the pasta it was intended to be. More nuts, avocado and dark chocolate. There are worse diets, I am aware of this. I just fear that all this training will be for nought if my internal thermoregulation gives up in the Northwest shipping lane. Never let it be said that I didn't try to eat my way across the English Channel. 'Never save anything for the swim back' or for tomorrow's leftovers either.

40km and 3rd for the Budgy Smugglers

2009-03-28T20:32:00.000-07:00

The last two weeks have been all about the ocean swimming. The temperature has dropped down to 18 degrees (still very pleasant for swimming) and I have enjoyed doing laps of Brighton Marina - a 2.5km circuit. It has been fairly heavily frequented by jelly fish which adds to the obstacles along with all the fishing lines that I manage to snag with uncanny regularity. I like to think the fisherman are thinking 'Wow look at that guy fearlessly tearing through the open water', but I suspect the reality is more likely 'What is this twat doing swimming through our bloody fishing lines'.

Along with the club sessions and my own pool sets I have hit 40km this week - a weekly best so far. The culmination was the re-swim of the 1.2km bay race this morning. As with 2 weeks ago I rocked up early to get some extra kms in and had foregone the wetsuit in favour of the pink speedos. I was meeting Kevin, another channel swimmer there, however when he saw me I could tell he was in two minds whether or not to acknowledge me in my garish trunks. A small child did point and laugh at one stage, I suspect the rest just thought 'What is this twat doing swimming in those revolting dick togs'. Kevin and I swam the course backwards to the start and then I stood shivering on the beach while awaiting a significantly delayed start. Goose pimples, pink speedos and significant muscle tremors - what an inspiring sight!

The race was good fun though and I shot off just behind a pack of 3 wetsuited swimmers, after 500m I had hauled in one of them but the 2 leaders got out to a 30sec lead and that's where I finished. I suppose in a wetsuit I probably would have been 45s to a minute quicker over the distance but at the end of the day a 3rd place and a fun race will do. Another sign of the improved fitness was the comfort level and recovery at the end of the race. I was tempted to get back in and swim back again but work called and the pink smugglers had had more than enough exposure.

Two more weeks in Melbourne and I am looking forward to building the work load. It is just such a fantastic place to train. Pool swimming back in England is not going to be anywhere near as inspiring when I return. I do have the English open water swimming season to look forward to; Dover training starts at the beginning of May and the Cirencester lakes will be open for swimming. Somehow it doesn't quite have the same appeal like the bay and reef swimming in Melbourne. Time for the famous Aussie saying - 'Have a can of toughen up princess', seems appropriate for those that swim in pink bathers.

Hot pink speedos and a race that wasn't

2009-03-14T17:57:00.000-07:00

Slowly getting over the jet lag but I'm enjoying being back in Melbourne. It's been a busy week, what with fitting in swim sessions, work and catching up on lost sleep. The highlight of the week was joining in with the 'icebergers' at Black Rock on Saturday morning. These are a group of seriously experienced open water swimmers with half a dozen or more Channel swimmers among them. I turned up at the beach at 8am ready for a good ocean swim and met Alby Bardoel and the gang. We headed down to the beach and as we prepared to hit the water I revealed my latest swimming purchase - a pair of fluro pink budgy smugglers. Possibly not the most conservative swim wear I possess. Alby politely pointed out that we were on a stretch of beach famous for it's male activity and I might attract more attention than I had anticipated. Nearly 2 hours later I exited the warm (19 degrees) water into a tropical downpour to find my towel and clothes now as damp as my speedos. Over breakfast I was advised that I needed to put on about 10kgs of weight if I hope to stave off hypothermia in the channel. This is a daunting prospect as so far this year I have managed to gain a total of minus 0.5kg.
Sunday morning was the Bonbeach 1.2km ocean race. I had been looking forward to this, the last race of the Melbourne open water calender. I arrived in good time to see the wind had whipped up the normally placed bay water into a sizeable white tipped swell. Excited by the prospect of a challenging sea swim I was rapidly deflated to learn that the life guards had cancelled the swim on safety grounds. I packed my pink smugglers away and slopped off to the pool for a steady 4.5km workout. The race has been rescheduled for 2 weeks so I may yet get a chance to race against the wetsuits. The prospect of beating as many wetsuitted swimmers as possible in a pair of fluoro pink budgy smugglers is quite an appealing one, even if I do risk being 'outed' in public. Also if I am going to prance around in a pair of eye-catching dick togs I might as well do it now while I am relatively trim and not when I have an extra 10kgs of lard folded over the top of them.

"Never save anything for the swim back"

2009-03-07T05:00:00.000-08:00

Seems an appropriate motto for a cross channel swim, not so appropriate if I was doing a two way crossing but fortunately I'm not. The quote comes from the movie Gattaca, two brothers swim out to sea against each other, the winner is the one who doesn't turn back first. When the stronger brother asks his weaker brother how he is managing to keep going he answers, "I never saved anything for the swim back". It is a favourite quote and motivating tool when I am pounding the laps. Another 8.5km this morning, this time I arrived a bit earlier so avoided being ejected from the pool. Two random swimmers asked me if I was swimming the channel, I've only mentioned it to one person at the local pool so either I'm giving off some strange vibe or word has got around. Of course it could have been the goose fat that I had laddled onto my torso this morning. Actually at 30 degrees no extra insulation is needed. A little scary to consider that the channel is likely to be approximately half that temperature.
This month my ocean swimming starts in earnest. Alright it is in Australia and at the tail end of summer so I'm not pushing the boat right out, but it will still be 10 degrees cooler than the indoor pool swimming in the UK. By the time I get back the open water swimming will be starting over here so that's when it gets really serious (cold).
Incidently I finished the kitchen tiling last weekend (see previous posts). Turns out I might think I'm a serious athlete but that doesn't get me out of the DIY chores. Apparently you have to have been a dedicated athlete before marriage for that excuse to carry any weight. Someone should write these rules down.

2 months in, 114.45km done and kicked out of the pool

2009-02-28T03:48:00.000-08:00

Good month of swimming, 114.45km of swimming. That's a satisfying average of just over 4km a day this month. This morning's session was the big one - a solid 8km straight. I have swum more than this in a day in 2 sessions but this was to be the longest single session to date. I headed down to the pool, stocked up with electrolytes and energy fuel. Started with a 2500m warm up and then ploughed through the next 3.6km in decreasing sets to bring up 6km in just over 1.5hrs. I finished with sets of 500m and felt suprisingly strong. As I pushed off for the final 500m I felt a warm glow of satisfaction that I was about to complete my longest ever session and round out the 8km. At this point I noted that the pool seemed remarkably quiet with the few remaining swimmers heading for the exits. I then spotted the lifeguard poised over the edge of my lane. As I pulled up he pointed to the change rooms and said "Time to get out mate, pool's shut", I paused momentarily and thought I would appeal to his better nature, "Do you mind if I finish my set, I've only 6 more laps to bring up 8km?" There seemed to be a flicker of sympathy and recognition of my achievement as he paused before he said "Nah, pool's shut". So that was it, kicked out 6 laps short of my goal. Still as annoying as that was I had a moment of smugness that I felt strong after nearly 8km in the pool, if it wasn't for the fact that that is not even a quarter of the distance across the channel I could feel genuinely pleased. In relative terms it is like running 10km in the preparation for running a marathon. Or more realistically it is like running 10km on a flat track in preparation for a marathon up a very steep mountain, in the snow...........with no clothes on.

At last, something to whinge about.

2009-02-20T08:44:00.000-08:00

My shoulders have been aching these last weeks and I have had quite a few sessions where I have just floundered through the water. I did a 6km set on Wednesday and after 2km I had completely ran out of juice. I spent the next hour wondering whether I would bounce back from what felt like a hypoglycaemic fug, the answer was a resounding no. Fitness and physical fatigue haven't held me back but it seems my body has been struggling to provide the energy required for back to back to back sessions. I have somewhat surprisingly been sleeping badly. I assumed with the increase physical work out I would sleep like a baby but instead I find myself tossing and turning and waking up in the dead of night. Muscle cramps have caught me out a few times in the evening sessions and I am having to think more carefully about hydration and energy levels. More often than not I find I am eating as much as I can physically manage but I suspect I have lost weight in the last month instead of gaining it.

I popped down to the local leisure centre at lunchtime today thinking I could get a quick session in at a quiet time of the day. Foolish me, it was half term and I had to share the one lap lane with a dozen breastrokers with an average age of 87. After twenty minutes there was only three left, I'm sure it wasn't all because of me but I do wonder what sort of work out you can get when it seems clear your objective is to keep your hair dry and water off your face at all times. I suspect I splashed quite a few of the 'tea bags' as I passed them bobbing up and down, I noted several damp hair arrangements as they reluctantly departed.

Someone who voluntarily decides to train up to swim the English Channel doesn't really deserve much sympathy, it is after all a rather self centered exercise however you dress it up. It's just I think secretly I quite like having something to whinge about. My wife has been an elite level triathlete since I have known her and she gets to complain all the time. Now it's my turn to grumble about aching muscles and physical exhaustion. I can complain about poor lane etiquette and inadequate provisions for serious swimmers. I can whinge to my hearts content, it's really quite an enjoyable activity.

Vickie wants me to do some tiling this afternoon. Doesn't she know I am resting up for my next swimming session this evening? I can't waste energy on mundane DIY tasks. I'm a serious swimmer, I'm training to swim the channel after all. No, it's rest and recovery for me, gotta look after myself. The tiling can wait until after September.............

a little knowledge is a dangerous thing......

2009-02-09T06:36:00.000-08:00

I should be feeling buoyed by another good week in the pool. 26.2km last week including 8.3km on Sunday. My fitness is good and improving, I am feeling stronger through the water and I seem to be making steady progress. Then I start reading on the Internet about other swimmers mad training programs, people swimming in near freezing water, people who have taken 3 years to reach this point of a channel swim attempt. I read about other people's failures, all the advice from experienced swimmers about how hard it is and how many people underestimate what's involved. I read about how the weather and conditions can scupper your attempt before you even get going. I read that only 40% of channel swimmers succeed. I shouldn't read these things but it's compulsive. I spend hours trawling through blog sites trying to garner little titbits of wisdom.
Today's a rest day, just a little run with the dog through the snow. Pushing negative thoughts to the back of my mind. I mostly feel good about where I'm at, I should top 100kms this month. Next month is back to Aus for a month of ocean swimming in preparation for the English ocean swimming which starts in May. I've given myself 9 months to get to a place where I can swim the channel. Seemed like a long time at Christmas. Now if you can just excuse me I've found another blog about a person who got within 2 miles of France and became delirious with exhaustion, must go.

One month in - the cold and the fat?

2009-02-03T05:22:00.000-08:00

So nearly 60km in the pool in January seems like a good base for my first month's serious training. Still a long way off what I should be building up to in Summer (at least twice that much). There are several issues that have occupied my thoughts though, the main one is the cold water acclimatisation. People have suggested that I need to start walking around in shorts and t-shirts in winter, sleeping under only a sheet etc. As the temperature this week plummeted well below freezing again I have not stuck to this philosophy with any enthusiasm. I have taken to running in the mornings without the gloves and hat that takes the edge off the cold and as I waded through the snow on top of Cleeve hill this morning I found myself questioning this decision also. The other part to this worry is the need to fatten up for the swim. How much fat is ideal when swimming the channel? I have read figures of about 15% body fat which is not a significant level. Pictures of the repeat swimmers of channel crossings tend to suggest that quite a bit more than that is not a disadvantage although there must be some trade off between extra weight and reduced fitness. I have not actively tried to bulk up too much yet, 78kg was my weight at the end of Jan and I am simply not being fussy at the moment about what I eat. I figured I could go up to 85kg quite happily, personally if the extra fat genuinely helps to keep out the cold I'll be more than happy to follow Renee Zellwinger's diet (in bulking up for Bridget Jones) and eat ice cream with every meal.

Why, why, why?

2009-01-30T10:18:00.000-08:00

As 2008 drew to a close and I mulled over what the new year would bring, my thoughts drifted to the possibility of completing a long distance triathlon. Inspired in no small part by Vickie's (my wife) tremendous achievements. I started to contemplate the training involved and to think about suitable events. The reality of how much time and training that would be involved started to sink in and another challenge of even more significant proportions forced itself into my consciousness. I have for some years pondered the possibility of swimming the English Channel, casually mentioning this desire to friends with the sort of condescending response you would expect when a small child says he would like to grow up to become an astronaut. But without any impetus it never went any further than a poorly conceived thought. I suppose we all need something bigger than ourselves to get us inspired sometimes and so the idea that I could use this challenge to raise some money for charity started to solidify the channel swim. In particular Mike's (my father-in-law's) personal battle with pancreatic cancer was an inspiration. Pancreatic cancer, I have discovered, is relatively poorly funded and despite modern medical advancements still as lethal a form of cancer today as it was 40 years ago. My other inspiration was to raise some money for the local historical swimming pool in Cheltenham, the Sandford Lido. Built in the 1930s it was almost buried under concrete in the 1990s to make way for car parking but saved by a group of devotees who now voluntarily manage the pool for the benefit of the community. It is a beautiful outdoor pool, surrounded by manicured gardens and flowered beds. One of only the few 50m swimming pools in the country. It is such a wonderful community facility that helping to preserve it for future generations seems a very worthwhile venture.
My hope with this blog is to record my experience of training and preparing to swim the English Channel in September this year and facilitate raising some money for these very worthwhile charities.