Cometh the hour, cometh the cupcake...

After a hugely busy week at work involving a rollout of a website with 172 000+ users, several long long days at work, and an average of 5 hours sleep a night I find myself looking forward to the mother of all training sessions in preparation for 2swim4life.

Not having access to the pool with enough hours I have booked the day off work to attempt 12 x 1 mile swims - half of the distance of the full 24 hour swim. I have decided that swimming half the distance will give me a good indication of how the actual day itself will pan out. I reason that the longest training swim I did for my channel swim was 8 hours - while on the day itself I was in the water for nearly 19 hours. Not strictly comparable, but good enough. 

Friday morning I find myself waking up in the dark to the 6am alarm on my phone, staggering out of bed and packing my swimming things - cozzies, goggles, hats, several towels and warm hoodies, a flask of soup, drinks and so on and heading off to the lido in a cab. My plan - to squeeze 12 x 1 mile swims into 11 hours and be out of the water by 6pm.

6.55am  Start first mile. The pool is remarkably empty - I always assume it will be packed at this time of day - and remarkably chilly! Brrr! I always loathe the first mile. Everything hurts. My shoulders ache, my arms ache, and then when those lot have stopped aching my hands start to ache - the backs of my hands - so that I have to do a rather weird shaking action under water to loosen them off somehow. I always think, during my first mile, 'oh my god! what has happened?!' Then after about 1km, the aches and pains fade, my breathing becomes more relaxed and I settle down. 38 mins later (38 - last week it was 37!) I finish my first mile - the warm up - and jump out of the pool for a drink and a pee.

7.50am  Second mile. I've decided, for a couple of reasons, to do the miles on about 55 mins rather than 1 hour in training. Partly because I think getting used to less rest will then toughen me up and on the day it will seem luxurious. Partly because I am getting a lift home and want to finish at a decent time. The second mile is much nicer and more relaxed and the pool is still quite empty and pleasant. This could be quite enjoyable. Famous last words... 38 mins

8.45am  Third mile is with finger paddles. To toughen my shoulders up. Faster, but a whole world of pain - in some way it feels much more relaxed and in some ways it is so much more painful doing a continual mile with paddles. My shoulder blades ache. But at least it makes the swim a bit more varied.. 35 mins. 

The breaks take on the same format more or less. Jump out. Put nose clips, earplugs and goggles in box thing, and leave by poolside. Take hat off and put shoes on and run to my 'cubicle' and towel off and put on hoodie. Glug large amounts of water laced with ribena. Decide what to eat. Sit and eat.  Look at phone. Lots of lovely supportive messages on Facebook. How lovely. Look at watch. Five mins before I'm due to get back in water, disrobe, put on swimming cap and then plop back into the water. Earplugs in, always left hand one first, goggles on, look at watch, nose clip on last, and I'm off. 

9.40am Fourth mile  The mile after the mile with paddles on is always very hard to start. My arms and shoulders always ache for the first 4 lengths and I always think 'oh my good god, how am I going to do this?' The pain goes away and just get back into a steady rhythm. Counting, thinking about stroke, counting the laps, daydreaming, watching the other people in the pool. The creepy stretching guy who I see on a Sunday afternoon is here this morning - two lengths of swimming, 6 'lengths worth' of creepy splits under water and on the poolside. I see you baby, shaking your ass. Not a good sight in your budgie smugglers. Someone make him stop. As well as that I am preoccupied by one of the lifeguards who appears to be in the lifeguards chair fast asleep. Every time I go up the pool he has his eyes tightly shut. Bad form man. The mile goes fast, what with being completely distracted by creepy stretchy guy and sleeping lifeguard. 

10.35am  Fifth mile. I have done seven lengths of the fifth mile and I am up at the deep end about to turn and I spot BCLE standing smiling at the end of the pool with a takeaway coffee cup and an exciting looking box of something promisingly edible. I missed breakfast (more truthfully I was stupid and didn't have breakfast) and nothing in my 'snack bag' appealed to me - I've eaten a small banana and a packet of hula hoops (!) since getting up at six. Hardly an athlete's sensible breakfast preparation. BCLE has come to the rescue, bearing gifts, bless him. I am so excited to see him that I just jump out of the pool and give him a big wet hug. The box contains 6 beautiful looking mini cupcakes from Violet. The coffee cup contains a macchiato, which I'd rather fancied. I knock it back and almost gag - much to my surprise it tastes quite salty. Must be some combination of strong coffee and chlorine. Not a great taste - note to self - don't drink strong coffee after hours of swimming. The cupcakes are divine though and BCLE and I eat one each, I smile and give him a hug, and ease myself back into the water, greatly cheered by the friendly face and support. I have another 24 laps to do before my next break so BCLE says he'll come back at 11.20 for my next break.

11.41am The sixth mile starts a bit late after BCLE and I have sat and chatted in the sun (now out, yay!) after which I am about to start again but then bump into Guido at the end of the lane - Guido is a triathlete who I haven't seen for a couple of years. We have a quick chat and I force myself to set off. Paddles again. Not so bad this time. I wave BCLE off with each stroke on recovery. Bless him for coming to look after me.

Mile six is lovely with the sun out and a warm feeling inside me. 35 mins (quicker with paddles!)

12.38pm Suddenly Mile seven is hell. I feel utterly utterly miserable and tired and awful and have no energy. My right leg gets goosebumps - which is what always happens to me when I get physically tired (in masters training sessions too). It's only my right leg - never my left. Every length is a drudge. I take 41 mins.

When I get out I realise that I'm starving. I've been up since six and all I've had to eat is a mini cupcake, a banana and a packet of hula hoops. No wonder I feel so ropey. I glug down my thermos of tomato soup and feel perkier.

1.35pm  Mile eight is OK - definitely feel better than mile seven after the food, but it's not that much fun. The pool is deserted and lovely and the sun is out but I don't feel much like enjoying it now. My arms are quite tired and I feel water logged. My head hurts. Make a note to change swim cap after this mile.

Each mile goes pretty much the same psychologically. The first ten lengths are fine - whizz by in a flurry of re-stretching stiff muscles, feeling quite perky and OK. Lengths ten to twenty are boring but bearable. Lengths twenty one to twenty six absolutely suck and are interminable. Lengths twenty seven and twenty eight I have an immense battle of will with myself not to look at my watch. At the end of length twenty nine I give myself a treat by allowing myself to look at my watch as I'm pushing off underwater to check out whether I'm on target. The last three lengths are lovely. Repeat. Over and over.    

2.33pm Mile nine. Paddles again. Ouch. Notice that the pull on my left arm - which drifts way too much across my centre line - is less squonk when I'm wearing paddles. I spend a few lengths trying to figure out why that is, paying special attention to what my arm is doing differently with the finger paddle on, the entry of my hand into the water. Hmmm. 

There are two little birds now sitting silhouetted against the afternoon sun on the gable end of the plant room at the pool. I watch them every time I swim towards the deep end. Sometimes they are facing one another, sometimes they are closer to each other, sometimes a little further apart, sometimes they have their backs to one another. I have little fantasies in my mind about the conversations they might be having. Something to look forward to and smile about.

3.30pm Mile ten - Misery. Utter misery. And pain. Totally fed up. I try to make the mile seem shorter by doing 10 lengths and then starting counting from 1-10 again so it seems like I'm not doing 11-20. Then when I get to 20 I start at 1 again. Only a last 12 to do, Sally. Anyone can do 12 lengths... 

4.30pm Just before mile eleven starts as I'm sitting in the break at last enjoying the sun, not wanting to get back in, Jen from my swim club arrives on the horizon with a friendly wave and a cheery face. She had said she'd come and keep me company if I was swimming and I am so so so grateful to see her. Even though I am not swimming with her, even having her in the lane is enough to kick me out of the misery I am feeling. Fab. Her company has cheered me immensely. Jen has almost balletic pointed toes when she swims so I do a few lengths really pointing my toes to see if it makes a difference... the mile goes by quite quickly. And when I finish my eleventh mile, she says she will stay in for a bit longer. So I go out and have my break, she stays in, and then I plop back in to have a chat with her before starting the final mile. 

5.25pm Anybody that tells you the final mile is fine and fun and lovely is a lying toad. The final mile is always hideous and takes an eternity, no matter how many miles you are doing. I try to make it more fun. First ten lengths no paddles, second ten lengths finger paddles, third ten lengths hand paddles. Like my arms aren't sore enough. Final two lengths back to lovely freestyle. The last two lengths is a joy. Jen has been out and showered and is sitting at the end of the pool like Coach with a baseball cap on. Or maybe I hallucinated that? I am so happy it's over.  I finish the last length at about 6.02pm, eleven hours after I started. Phew. Thank god that's over. And then BCLE returns just in the nick of time with a lovely smile to hand me my towel and say well done and to carry my bag and drive me home. A sight for sore eyes.

So - where does this leave me? I've done the longest training swim since my pre channel days (5 years ago). I still don't really feel like I've done enough for it not to be complete misery on the night. Or on the day. I'm hoping that on the day adrenalin will carry me through, and a sense of occasion. But these training swims aren't supposed to be fun, are they? I try to remind myself of how it used to be on those long training swims - crying in the water, begging for it to stop, dreading days in Dover, aching and falling asleep at my desk. Enjoying just a small part of the actual swimming. This is what it's supposed to be like? if it was easy it wouldn't be worth doing. And I have after all just swum 19.2km - that is quite a long way after all... isn't it?

A couple more long training sessions are called for I think in the run up to the swim. Maybe another weekend's 9 hours/9 miles would be good. 

Four weeks or so to go to the big day (and night). 

Anybody that wants to sponsor me can do so here, and I'll talk more about that in another post:

https://www.bmycharity.com/V2/2Swim4Life

 

 

Comments

[Kate Robarts]

Sally, thanks for blogging this. I did the 12 miles in 2008 and recognise so much of what you felt! Very well done for having the grit to do 12 miles in training! I'm deeply impressed. I'm doing the 24 with you this time. Looking forward so much to meeting you.
Kate

[Joanna Charlton]

Really enjoyed reading your blog Sally, well done! Great distance! Look forward to reading more re your training, and the event too! Very inspiring.

[Sally Goble]

Thanks Erika! Look forward to meeting you and hearing your cheers and probably looking miserably up at you when having a sense of humour failure (sorry in advance! hee hee)

[Erika Cule]

Impressive training, Sally!

I am volunteering, not swimming, on the day, so I shall see you then. I will be on poolside cheering you on.

Best of luck with the prep between now and then.

Erika