I was beginning to doubt whether I still had it in me. Was thinking that my heart wasn't in it, and that I'd become one of those 'flash in the pan' Channel swimmers that I don't really understand, that bemuse me. One of those ones that say that Channel swimming is a huge goal of theirs, a lifetime's ambition, but it seems a bit like ticking a box to me. They train and train for it and then they stop swimming altogether, hang up their goggles. Retire altogether from swimming outdoors, from swimming at all even.
I can understand that it's hard to know where to go after you've achieved the ultimate swimming goal. It's something that a lot of Channel swimmers wrestle with, I now know. I also understand that it's hard to motivate yourself after such a huge all-consuming challenge. Personally, I think that the worst thing is how you then validate yourself again: after so much support and so much attention has been paid to you, how do you adjust to becoming normal and boring again? It makes you doubt yourself. I have felt all these things clearly, as have other successful Channel swimmers I know.
I've been swimming in the harbour and pool and just thinking I'm a bit rubbish, that I'm kidding myself that I'm a swimmer of any stature or ability. Being ill for three weeks hasn't helped.
Travel down to Dover knowing that I have to do a big swim on Saturday, that this weekend is the first important landmark for me this year. I know I'll be down to do a six hour swim. Staying in Dover on Friday night, sharing a room with Katherine Mearman (swam the Channel in 2004), she's is training for Zurich. Katherine, Katie and I are three of the past Channel swimming girls down on the beach training for other swims this year. We all expect to have six hour swims this weekend and none of us are particularly looking forward to it. Katherine and I sit and have dinner on Friday night and drink wine and chat easily. We think maybe we should just have a nice time, skip the training and go back to London! Ha!
Saturday
At least I sleep easier last night than the week before. Wake up quite refreshed, porridge and honey and a slice of toast for breakfast – perfect fuel for a long swim in cold water – and then down to the beach. It's grey and overcast and a bit windy. Not a particularly pleasant day for spending it all in the water by any stretch of the imagination. I'm focussed, not relaxed, but ready for what has to be done. Go and see Freda and collect my hat. She asks me if I'm down on Sunday as well. No, I tell her. Six hours, she tells me, marking it on her sheet along side my hat number. I nod. Yup. Has to be done. Katie comes to the beach and checks in with Freda. I catch her eye and she holds her fingers up to tell me the damage. Five hours! Five?! Bloody hell. Lucky thing. Katherine checks in with Freda, she gets four hours! Four! Well, serves me right for slacking last week I suppose. I do feel a bit less hard done by as I see some people are getting seven hours. That would be a killer. But they are swimming the Channel and I'm not!
We're off. It's 9.07am and there is not a drop of sunshine. I've put some sun cream on my face but nowhere else. Why bother? There's a bit of a chop but it's not that bad. Head off to the ferry wall, Annette and Daniel are around somewhere too. Today I don't feel like it's taken me hours to warm up and get swimming. Just head off into it. Feel a bit more focussed and relaxed. Down to the ferry wall, the East wall. The wind is blowing from the West so the East end of the harbour is all churned up. I get attacked by a plastic bag. Twice. When I get to the end I see Annette and Daniel, Annette asks me if I want to sprint. She's just swimming for an hour as she's hurt her back. I say that I don't want to sprint just now as I think I might save it for later in my six hour swim. I start swimming the 1400m back to the other wall. I feel very very relaxed.
Last week I decided that if I wasn't enjoying myself that there was no point in swimming, so I didn't. This week I've decided that I'm not making enough effort to enjoy the swimming I'm doing. I'm talking myself down. I've made up my mind that today I'm going to make every effort to enjoy myself and not talk myself into a miserable mood. I'm swimming along and see a chink of blue sky and sun through the dark grey clouds. I decide that every time I breathe I'm going to look at that bit of sun and blue sky and enjoy it. And guess what? It works. I just get happier and happier. I swim to the hoverspeed wall where it's flat calm. Usually when I get to this wall I stop and have a look around and there is usually someone to chat to. This time I decide that I'm just going to keep swimming in a wide arc and turn back to the far wall again. Nothing is going to interrupt the zen like feeling. It works. Bloody hell. I swoop round and soon I'm on the way back to the east wall again. Looking at the play of the tiny bit of sun on the water, relaxing, thinking happy thoughts. The first laps go easily. I also give myself a let out. I think - as soon as I stop enjoying myself like this I'm going to stop. As long as it's over four hours. In for my first feed of the day at 2 hours 15 mins. A nice feed of maxim from Barrie and Nicola's husband smiling away. It's lovely (although the feed is a bit sweet). Barrie tells me he'll give me a banana in an hour. Excellent!
The weather is a bit more challenging now, and I'd been debating not going back to the Ferry wall where it's rough and a pain in the arse. I'd been contemplating doing an hour sprinting up and down at the Hoverspeed wall, where it's flat. Doing 400m reps. But I realise that it's better to go down to the Ferry end when I'm relatively less tired. I head back down there. It's fine going down but hard blooming work coming back. It's just so irritating. Slapping waves hitting your forehead, the noise of the windy waves banging in your ears and in your head. It annoys me. Takes me out of my zen moments. Grrr. Even so, the faster you swim the faster you get away from it back to the quiet of the other side to the calm. So I work it and soon am back in the calm shelter that is the Hoverspeed wall. I meet Tim Cheeseman, who's swimming up and down the wall. He's training for a two way Channel attempt and is in for seven hours today. We chat. 'How long are you in for?' 'Seven. You?' 'Supposed to be six' I say. 'Supposed to be?' he asks. I grin and shrug and feel ever so slightly sheepish... Another lap and in for a feed at 3 hours 30 mins. Banana! Mmmm. I don't mind at all getting back in the water. Feeling perky still. Thinking, I'll manage 5 hours now, for sure.
On the way back out again I meet the members of Kat's relay team. Kat used to swim with my tri club. I have a quick chat with Nick, one of their swimmers, who's just on the way back in from their second swim. I like Nick, he's very friendly and positive and always up for a bit of light hearted joshing. We trade quips and I swim off smiling.
This time I am going to swim up and down the hoverspeed wall, just for a change of scenery. I'm really pleased that I'm going to stay in for the whole time and don't feel like getting out at all. I kid myself that I'm going to sprint up and down the 400m easy/fast, but I just plod at this rate. Up and down and around and around for an hour and a little bit. In for a feed at 4 hours and 45 mins. This hour it's been raining and there is now no sun.
Barrie greets me on the beach for my feed wearing a bright yellow sou'wester. Cliff is standing with a mini roll and maxim for me, under a golf umbrella. The beach is deserted! I take my feed and tell them that if they want I can get out and then we can all go home. No thanks, they tell me. I adjust goggles and then off again. Decide to tough it out down to the rough East ferry wall. I get down to past the second groyne and a bit further. I turn round and start fighting back. Haven't got much oomph. And then the sailboats start enchroaching on my territory, which annoys me. I don't like the little sailboats in the harbour. I dislike sighting to have to avoid being run down by them. Of course they have as much right to be there as I do, and they are usually very responsible. And usually they stick to the west side of the harbour and on the east side you can relax and not look where you are going. I think that now I'm going to have to sight every few strokes all the way for the next 1000m. What a pain. And it's choppy. And I'm tired. I keep swimming, keep sighting, keep stopping and looking around. And because I'm interrupted I start to lose the plot. And suddenly feel really sick as a dog. My mouth feels like someone has poured a tub of salt crystals into it and is rubbing it into my gums. The taste of salt is intense. I start feeling queasy and wretching. Nothing coming out though. At about 3.30 pm I swim parallel to the swimmers' beach and just can't go on any more. Being in the vicinity of the beach is the worst place to be when you want to get out. I swim for 15 mins in to the beach and get out at about 2.50pm, 5 hours and 45 mins after I got in the water.
Freda, Barrie, Rose, Cliff, Katherine M and Katie are all on the beach and all say well done, which is great. I know they mean it, and I know I deserve it! Freda also says "You made hard work of that last bit Sally." I know. I felt sick as a dog, I tell her. I remember at this point that my first long swim of last year I felt sick as well. Wonder what it is? I certainly don't generally feel sick in the water. My arms and elbows and hands all feel fine. I don't feel too tired or weak. Feel quite perky apart from the nausea and a sore mouth, I feel good.
So that is my longest swim since my Channel swim! Nearly six hours. And it was OK. I feel totally back on track now, feel that my swim in Scotland is definitely within my reach. I feel like I deserve the title of long distance swimmer again!
I now have a few more weeks of hard work and should be fine for my swim on 8/9/10 August. I've got a weekend swimming in Scotland coming up this weekend – one race (4.75 miles) and one test swim with my pilot. These swims will crucially let me know how cold the water really is. I'm nervous to find out. Then the following weekend in Dover for a back to back weekend. Then another long ish swim the following Saturday. Then holidays! Then August will be upon us!! Here we go!
Saturday, 60F, 5 hours 45 mins