Slowly recovering from the 'flu and bronchitis, Thursday I dare to venture - for the first time in almost two weeks - back into the water. It's a masters training session, nice to be back. I go at the back of the lane and take it easy. Manage more or less an hour and a half session without too many adverse effects or a relapse. I'm ready to go down to Dover for the weekend to see if I can swim again!
Saturday...
Frank and I arrive at Dover and it's a nice day, blue skies. It's windy though and there are white horses in the harbour - and a strong wind churning up the water at the east harbour wall. It's so lovely to be back and see everyone. The training is relentless and sometimes I don't want to be there - but this week I'm just desperate for things to be back to their natural order!
However desperate I am to be back, I'm now painfully aware that this weekend I have to take it real easy and see how I go. I know that my lung capacity isn't fully back to what it should be, I don't know whether the work of swimming in the cold sea will make me cough mid harbour. Freda tells me to do just an hour. I'm happy with that.
Frank and I get in the water - I've asked Frank to swim with me for a bit. We head off to the east harbour wall. We always go that way first as it isn't as much fun as going to the west harbour wall - to get it over and done with. My plan is to swim very easy pace and not to sprint and not to exert myself by swimming too fast - as I know that exerting myself will raise my body temperature and that always makes me cough more.
However, I haven't banked on the sea being quite so choppy as today. I realise after only about 6 or 7 minutes swimming that the physical effort that's required to battle the chop is going to really strain my lungs and they can't take it today. I'm really fed up. I tell Frank I'm going to head back towards the beach. He asks if I want him to stay by me, but I tell him it's fine. I get back close to the beach and I've been swimming for about 15 mins. I'm on the verge of getting out and giving up for the day. I have to fight with myself not to. I swim off to the west harbour wall where I know it'll be flatter and calmer, and where it's easier to swim to the beach and get out if I get into trouble. Lungs are struggling more than I thought they might. I'm finding it tougher than I did in the pool on Thursday - but I suppose should as I have to work harder here altogether. From the beach to the west wall and back twice more and that's an hour done. Thank god. I need to know if I'll be OK after this.
I spend a couple of hours on the beach chatting to a woman, Annette, who we trained with earlier in the season, who is now A Channel Swimmer. She gives good advice and plenty of encouragement.
Sunday...
Have a dream that I've swum The Channel but in my dream I can't remember any of the swim. Quizzing my mom 'Did I really swim it? Really?'. 'Yes, Sally, you really did'. I wake up and am so bitterly disappointed that it was only a dream!
Back on the beach. It's a miserable day, cloudy and a bit chilly. But I haven't had a relapse and I feel a bit less tired than I did yesterday. I'm not coughing more than I was, so I'm pleased. Freda asks how I am. I tell her that I don't feel better but that I don't feel worse either. Two hours, she tells me. I grimace. Seems a lot at the moment.
I get in and head off to the east wall. The sea is flatter today than yesterday, much easier to swim in, but I'm feeling a bit nervous. I feel, when I'm swimming, like I really have to control my lungs. Like when you are in a really quiet music concert and you have the urge to cough, but you know you can't, and you're trying to control that urge until you want to explode. That's how I feel. I swim to the east wall and then head back to the west - a 50 minute swim. I'm finding it tough. Just as I get to the west wall, I have a huge coughing fit. I just have to tread water and let it happen. I feel OK as there are other swimmers about.
The west wall is always calmer than the east wall - there are often people walking along the top of it, peering down at us from 30 foot above, they wave and chat to us. At this wall there is often a group of swimmers treading water and having a chat. A kind of swimming flotsam, we are swept together for a short while before we disperse again to the corners of the harbour. We bob there for a few moments, enjoying a break and the company, asking one another how we feel, how long we've been told to swim, what our bodies are doing. I bump into 'Smiley Katie'. She's great - always grinning. We talk about our concerns. I say to her that everyone is telling me that I can make it - but I say 'Katie - how do THEY know?'. She smiles: 'Yes, I always think - what if I am the the one with the mental weakness'. That makes me smile so much. It's just how I feel. It's fantastic to know that these ridiculous thoughts are not just mine. In a strange way it really cheers me up.
The next hour is fine, I've relaxed and am enjoying myself. There are some strange things happening in the harbour today and I watch them to keep myself entertained. I swim right into a buoy! Just 5 mins before two hours I have another huge coughing fit - and am just about to turn in to the beach early and I give myself another talking to. I need to go back to west wall and back to complete my two circuits and a bit.
I come in after 2 hours 20 mins. Barry punches me on the arm again. I think that's good. I really would like to stay in for another hour but know it would be rash. I'll just be pleased with that for now.
Freda tells me that probably next week I'll be OK for my big swims (maybe 8 and a 7 I think). Hope so. Seems possible at the moment. Just need to keep healthy this week, and things should get back on track.
Saturday, 1 hour, 63 degrees
Sunday, 2hrs 20mins, 63 degrees
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