Truths of the Channel

Truths:- If you swallow 800-1000 sips of water in an hour, its got to come out sometime, somehow.

Lungs don't like salt water, vomit or sewage.

Leaping into cold sea 4 times in a day with no sleep, little food and sore lungs is tough.

Endurance is the name of the game - not enjoyment, I barely said 2 words to the rest of the Seabreezers during the 16 hours and vice versa.

Fear of failing the team is what gets you in the water, the purpose you are swimming for gets you through the hour. 10 October 2012

Moralee's eyes were so wide open, as she loaded on the swim glide (for chafing) snapped her hat on her head and adjusted her goggles. Pitch dark 3.15am and she had to jump off the side of the boat and swim to shore. Not a sign of hesitation, she set the bar for the attitude we would all need for the day.

As the klaxon sounded at 3.22am she ran and dived into the sea and started to swim towards the light on the boat, 3 parents waving from the shore, and a boatload screaming from 20 meters away in the sea, and then she swam, like she always does, confidently smoothly and fully in control. The start of an epic journey.

Martin our observer put the thermometer in to check water temperature, 14.5 and with 9.5 air temperature it was nipping at the bones! Lemon had brought a whiteboard, so we could do timing countdowns, it wasn't til sarah yelled 'how long!?' With 15 minutes to go that we realised she hadn't seen any of them. It was a similar story for Lemon and I, doing the 2nd and 3rd legs. The only thing you could see were lights and shapes, and as I can't swim in a straight line, I was soon 30-50 meters away from the boat in the dark. To get in, I climbed down some steps onto a small platform, being covered by water, and waited for the bell, I was watching Lemon, with a smile on her face as usual, but the rules state I had to pass her in the water (a proper relay) and the advice we had was just get on with it,I jumped into the sea and swam to Niki,  no hugging, just a shout of 'amazing, well done! And a 'go Nikki' from her' then my arms and legs did the rest. Its fair to say it was cold, but the serpentine was just as cold, and the programming from those practice swims helped me remember that movement is key, and stopping is not an option.

Therefore after a couple of minutes the water temperature was fine, but swimming in the dark against a head wind (if that's the correct term for wind that's driving directly at you) it means that the water breaks from different angles, and at least 60% of your breaths contain some seawater, I did a calculation, in my first leg I was averaging 60 strokes a minute, I breathe approx every 3rd stroke so 20 times a minute x 60 is 1200 breaths, around 800 swallows of water...it wasn't until my third leg that I understood what impact this would have. But one thing I did discover, if you cant pee while you swim, you have about 3 litres to get rid of as you come out (thank goodness I had the excuse of still throwing up as i left the water to stay at the back of the boat)!!! Joy!!

The dark means you can't see what's coming, so you just have to trust your body to carry you through, the volumes of seawater finally made me realise I couldnt stop so learnt to throw up while I swam (20ish times in my first hour), and focus on the fact that it's only an hour. I remember the dark, the silence and the glimpses of the moon, the stars were crystal clear along with the moon which was low and huge, quite spiritual, and the only nice thing about swimming in the dark!

I was helped by a little warm glow of feeling watched over by two men recently departed from this world, my Dad Don Coope and our friend Mike Wynter who needed the help of the charity I was swimming for in his latter days, both of them died in September, and I committed to my Mum and to Mikes wife that I would swim for them. I wrote their names on my arms, one on each, and they powered me forward when I felt weaker, well, alongside fear of failure for my team and commitment to my cause inspired by cancer sufferers and survivors.

The sun began to rise and began to set on my swims, which is a beautiful experience for a swimmer even with glaring orange light on your goggles!! All of our second legs were the strongest, I pulled 66 strokes a minute, I'm pretty sure that's the fastest I've ever moved, the desire to stay warm was high and movement helps, but beyond that I realised there was a job to do, (I had that song in my head ‘when you’ve got a job to do you better do it right...) and with that mental attitude I frankly attacked the sea, using my bad mood to clear what was in my path, and get on with it. (I was miserable from the first leap in, I don't know how Lemon kept smiling, everything in my mind told me to stop, and I couldn't find the joy in it I'm sad to say).

Unlike when you swim with teammates in the sea, gaining energy from the interactions there's no time for chat, for considering if you're going to run out of breath or for anything except swimming.  I was truly proud of myself for answering that doubt full on with 'yes I can!' I promise there is nothing like swimming in 120meter (at its deepest) deep water, with only your movement keeping you afloat, that motivates you more to stay that way. But even with all our sea swims (30+ for me) you just don’t swim solidly for an hour, there is always a turn midway, or an accidental landing on the beach (yup my navigation was crap from the beginning) so there was always a moment to catch my breath!. You don't run out of breath you just breathe heavier same as normal exercise, your heart pumps harder, you take more breaths the harder you work - simples! - the only difference was the intake of sea water.

After my sunny second leg Bridget gave me a hug and a talking to 'just think how far you've come, concentrate on why you're doing it, you're looking amazing out there' - all things I needed to hear, she just took it all in her stride - such strength. I ate a bit more, with an appetite this time and realisation that if I didn't my body wouldn't be able to support a powerful swim, its hard when your tongue is swollen and chapped, and your tastebuds have gone. Bread tastes like cardboard, and the only way is to drink while you eat. Hot cups of Tea from Ben and a little snooze on the cold but sunny deck calmed me down.  

The third hour was my hardest, apart from the massive patch of seaweed which fortunately I skimmed because of my lack of straight lines, I also hit a rough patch, Pete told me afterwards that he'd seen it coming, but didn't tell me because he knew that wouldn't help matters. It was like being back in Brighton on a full windy day like a washing machine churning me around. It was at that point my vomit started looking red. To add pain, I found myself with 5 minutes to go but seemingly miles from the boat, and with the cold and tiredness came a new panic. I could see the boat and thought it had stopped to let me catch up, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't reach it. The reality was it was still moving but exhaustion and fear meant I was a wreck by the time I got out. As my son Ben dried me off and helped me dress I was close to tears, coughing up blood and whispering that I didn't want to do it any more. He coaxed me gently, knowing it was highly likely I'd be in again, reminding me about my wonderful cause, and how grandad was watching over me, and how proud he was of me. This time I ate some Goats Cheese and Chilli crisps (OMG if you haven’t had them, get some!) with my sandwich and cucumber, and a major handful of Minstrels our chocolate of choice during our training, and something that will always now trigger those girly beach visits, deciding how many more times we should get back in vs lie in the sun. The Sun - I forgot to mention that. From the very beginning I believed we would have a beautiful day, despite the crappy UK summer, only about 2 of our training sessions were truly rainy and miserable, one day in brighton, and one in worthing. The rest were dry bright and more often than not sunny, the girls would laugh as the sun came beaming out, and I’d be smug in my belief, but to the point that eventually we were all ‘programming’ the universe about the sunshine. (This was also a subject raised in Dads funeral - he believed in ‘Luck of the Coopes’ and so do I, The sun shines on the good - we were doing good that day:) So, when you check out the pictures, that’s what you’ll notice, beautiful bright blue sky and a gleaming sun bouncing off all of us. We couldn’t have asked for more perfect weather. We could have been gifted a slightly different wind - but that’s a trade off Moralee and I made on the monday when we took the decision to go despite the crosswinds they were expecting.

There's no-one who can tell you what you're going to experience on that crossing, when I got into the water for the last time, it was following Niki who struggled with major hip problems and looked in pain while trying to keep going, breast stroke seemed to help and her lovely Rob took up a position to keep her going at the side of the boat, it didnt give me any more confidence that my last leg would be easy!

So it was with a pumped up, motivated team around me who became excited that I would be the final person in who would land, we were only 1.4km from the shore, and ‘All’ I had to do was to ‘Cane it’ to use Peter’s words for 30 minutes and then leap out onto the rocks in France. It looked so close. I still haven’t debriefed it from all angles, so I don’t know the full picture, but my experience was that I ‘Caned it’ - Martin reported my stroke was again at 66 a minute, but after what seemed like an age, and calling on every resource in my kitbag, (I thought about all the people I know/knew who had cancer throughout my life, I thought about those who survived and how they have lived their lives in more meaningful ways, I thought about their fears, their treatments, their experiences, and I tried to get some perspective on mine. I used Dad and Mike as my arms, knowing they would both gift me a little energy if I asked, I thought about everything except how far i’d gone) It was about then that I hit sewage. Initially I thought the boat had dumped its toilet load, but it hadn’t, the smell and taste of the water were disgusting, I have no idea how bad it was, just that the smell alone was making me gag, I kept trying to pretend it wasnt there, but there was no mistaking it, and my lungs can vouch for it...

I don’t look up when I swim (its called Spotting), because its still something that makes me even more unstable in the water as my legs drop down. As a result the only place with ‘data’ was the boat - which I was miles away from again. I kept watching the dingy at the back, believing that at any moment someone would be getting in it, and would follow me to the rocks (I am quite clumsy so I confess I wasn’t looking forward to mashing my face into the rocks, but Pete gave me a lesson about going with the sea swell!). Anyway, no-one got in the boat, and no-one was making any moves towards it, I was feeling completely in the dark - yes the sun was setting, quite beautiful, but also I couldnt see detail on the boat, when I ginally got closer I could see a sign, held high, and with a sinking feeling realised it said 50 on it. I swore outloud and hard, no wonder I was feeling so spent. At that point I finally looked up, and there was France, still about 800 meters away and I definitely groaned, All that F’ing work, and I hadn’t even made it, and there was no way I was making it in 10 minutes, Bridget would be taking us home.

What I hadn’t realised is the tide had turned, Niki drew the parallel to watching me swimming in a slip stream the current was so fast, but I did what a team does, I got us as far as I could, apparently good enough to hit the bay where the tide dropped and gave Bridget a cold,dark but hopefully more tolerable ride home.

The last 10 minutes was hard, the only resource I had left was my automatic mode, learned after hours of drills with Peter, floating, arm extensions, paddling up and down, and finally doing the crawl, I counted my stroke. I knew that if I got to 700 then I had done the last 10 minutes, there was nothing else, just me, the stroke and the water, my words when I used to do the pool drills and the hours of learning to swim from 18 months ago were ‘I am in my own Merry Hell’ and I truly was. What a revelation and a weird cycle back to the early days of my swimming. (It wasn’t til 3 days later they told me about the massive Jellyfish I had missed by an inch....).

I could barely get back to the boat, Bridget was eager to set off but I was holding her back, and it took the last heave to get me out of the water, and the second heave to finish off emptying my stomach and lungs. My relief was audible and visible i’m sure, my final strip off and dry was accompanied by Bridget who I could see through the changing room window at the same level, the sun was pink behind her, and she was powering through the water with no hesitation - taking us in.

Niki Lemon was yelling to me to get upstairs to come and share the experience of Bridget landing, and we did, we watched her little green dot disappear into the darkness and make her way to the beach - too dangerous to land on the rocks now, and suddenly she was there, standing on the beach in Calais, with us screaming our joy at her for getting us home, and at ourselves for our unbelievable achievement.

If anyone wants to know why we didn’t join her on the last leg - we talked about it many times in the lead up to it, but there was absolutely nothing that would have got me back into a wet swimsuit and back into that water for a 5th time - as romantic as it might seem, the pain of trying to get 4 of us dry and changed in a 1meter square changing area and also the crew trying to watch 4 green dots in the dark - it was a ‘No Way’ from many voices. Would I do it again? Nope not on your nelly.

So it was done. 10th October 2012 a relay team called the SeaBreezers conquered the channel in 15 hours and 19 minutes. For me I conquered a long term fear of the water, found 4 deep friendships, discovered the resources I have within me, raised money for an important cause, and achieved an extraordinary journey which will be told to my Grandchildren and Great Grandchildren, I hope, with pride.

WWW.Justgiving.com/Nikki-Watkins-Seabreezers

Make Memories!

It's so dark outside, and having just made sandwiches, packed food bags, and run over the lists again, I have just read/listened and digested all the lovely messages from people wishing me luck, love and as my mum said in her text 'Make Fantastic Memories'...

Isn't that what we're here for? My last 18 months has been FILLED with fantastic memories - 'firsts', my first 10 lengths (with the girls wondering if I'd ever get to 50!), my first mile, first serpentine freeze and meeting the incredible range of ages jumping in, the first sea swim with the yellow hats, our first open water competition and finishing it, first panic in the lake and being supported out, first 2 hour swim, first 4 hours of swimming in a day,and now a first of getting on an off a boat in the middle of the channel to swim an hour at a time.

This is the first time I will be doing a challenge like this with the spirit of others encouraging me on. Its the reason I took it on in the first place having been inspired my friends and family who had cancer and survived (or didn't), then proved they were living by creating fantastic memories themselves.

My wonderful Dad will be with me, telling me 'nothing good in life comes easy', he thought I was mad preparing to swim the channel, and talked regularly about his brother Edmond who was an open water swimmer his whole life, and used to come out of the sea quite blue! Also our dear friend Mike Wynter who died last month after a battle with cancer, I promised his wife Jan I would swim for him, with him in my heart.

So, less than an hour to go, a quick photo opportunity with Ben - wearing my new Seabreezers hoody and ready at last to make Fantastic Memories

WWW.Justiving.com/Nikki-Watkins-Seabreezers

The Night before the Night of....

I knew this time would come, and as i rechecked my bags, kit, clothes, and mental state, I realise I am relatively calm, with just an undertow of adrenaline. We are just waiting to find out our start time - sometime from 3am Wednesday 10th October 2012... Wonder how I’ll sleep tonight..

I can honestly say I am not in the form I was in 5 weeks ago, the life events overtook the training alot, but I can also say I have done the best I can, I can swim an hour at a time, and I am fully connected to my body and it’s ability to do extraordinary things.

Someone just reminded me that it probably won’t be as hard as childbirth (27 hours for Jess), or my Karate Blackbelt - (5 days of torture culminating in 12 x 2 minute sequential fights, black eyes, bruised ribs and shins, torn up feet and black forearms from blocking too hard).

Yes it probably wont be that hard...but it’s tough in a different form...swimming in the dark of night...with air temperatures of 9 degrees and sea temperatures under 16 degrees....on seas battling between a warm air front from the north east and a cold air front from the south...trying to warm up on the boat...dealing with seasickness which is apparently inevitable....while trying to keep down a sandwich or two...Yes it will be some adventure.

The departure of my special friend Claire back to Vancouver has meant that I had a space on the boat for a supporter, two wonderful young men jumped at the chance - my nephew Oliver whose enthusiasm for my challenge was visible on holiday when he asked me daily about my successes and learnings, and my son Ben who has been telling people since I first started training that he was coming on the boat - he manifested this one for himself!!

So, with that level of support, with the wonderful other 3 Seabreezers and our fab coach Peter all ready to set off for our big Channel swim, and a recent reminder of how fortunate I am to be alive, fit, healthy and loved - how could I be anything other than grateful, anticipatory and excited.

One more sleep, One team, One crossing, One hour at a time, One arm in front of the other, Just keep Swimming...

www.Justgiving.com/Nikki-Watkins-Seabreezers

THAT phone call

Last night, Thursday, I had just landed back from a successful client meeting in Amsterdam, had enjoyed a glass of wine in the lounge and an amusing chat with an old colleague, and was on the bus back to the terminal when my phone rang.

Sea Breezer Sarah Moralee was squealing down the end of the phone, and my immediate assumption was that we would be swimming the next day - more fool me for that glass of wine!! THANK GOODNESS her next words did not match that assumptions. "I've spoken to Mike and he's got us down to swim on Wednesday, the tides are good, the sea is calm, and we have to be down there for a 3am start on Wednesday 10th October, eeeeeeeeekkkkkkk" (or a squeal to that effect :)

After another excited girly squealing call with Seabreezer no. 2 Bridget, on the drive home, I was reflecting on phone calls and texts, the exciting ones and the terrifying ones. How many calls I have made and texts I have sent, in the last few weeks to precious friends and family to share the news about Dad, or to update them on the swim - certainly the bringer of news, just in different flavours. Now that the swim date is fixed (well unless mother nature has other ideas), then there will be the phone calls afterwards, sharing the story and the adventure we all had.

For now though the mood is one of utter excitement, and the challenge of getting the 4th seabreezer Niki back in one piece from Egypt in time to swim, she lands at 10pm tuesday night, talk about cutting it fine.

Fortunately our acclimatisation is still working, we went swimming last Saturday to remind ourselves of how cold water can be, after an hour in the Serpentine at 14 degrees and the shakes kicked in, as they did in the old days, sea temperatures should be a couple of degrees warmer, although starting in the dark at 3am the air temperature will be cold (see frost on windscreen thursday morning).

We took this picture during the 30 seconds that the body doesn't know yet how cold it is, I sent it to a friend who said we looked like the Latvian synchronised swimming team - am searching for a compliment somewhere in that statement :)

So now on waiting time to get the phone call that confirms we are off on Wednesday and until that, life goes on. To quote myself, and my little sister recently struggling through practicing our tribute to my Dad at his funeral tomorrow, 'Keep Swimming, Keep Swimming, this'll be one for you Dad xx'.

Enjoy the Journey, not the end game

Its 10pm, Friday 28th September 2012.

Like many, you are probably thinking "The channel swim should be over by now for Nikki and the team!, Should I ring? Did it go ok? The weather has been awful!"

So, who knew.. Who knew except our Pilot, who chose to not proactively tell us, that the week you choose to swim the channel is 'Just a guide'. Just a guide, towards which you have been training for 18 months, towards which your wonderful friends coalesce, travel from canada, and call, write, connect with you to see 'how it's going'....

In all other walks of life a date is a date (well, let's face it except childbirth).. But not this one - Mother nature truly has her fist wrapped around this one, deciding what weather shines or blows through, and in this case this is the daily reports that we were being issued:-

Dover -- Shipping Forecast - Issued: 0405 UTCMon 24 Sep Gale warnings - Southwesterly storm force 10 expected soon Wind -- Southeast 5 to 7, veering southwest 7 to severe gale 9, increasing storm 10 for a time.

i've no idea what that means but gale force 10 seems just a little extreme to me! Despite the sunshine in Great Kingshill with my amazing friend Claire from Vancouver and I having a lovely swim at the local Lido (temperature 21 degrees, and she has a new appreciation for how cold that is - remember we'll be swimming in 17 maximum, and that's warm compared to what we've been swimming!) The channel has had other ideas.

If we reflect and wonder why this has happened, I have to reflect on our real ability to be able to cope with the challenge, Niki and Bridget were both pretty ill last week after managing olympic activities and major organisational change initiatives respectively, and I have definitely been feeling weak and odd as I have been dealing with my fathers death last week. Poor Sarah was the only one really ready, so perhaps Mother nature was taking care of us? For me, the gift of a week to spend at a different pace, being a tourist in london and sharing memories and moments with Claire that wouldn't have been possible if the swim had happened as expected.

Our Pilot has told us he believes we'll swim before christmas, OMG, We seriously hope so, can you imagine a snowball fight one day and swim the channel the next? October is often good weather, and apparently the Neap tide is not all its cracked up to be - or perhaps it is, but if we want to swim, it'll just be a bit harder!...

So, To those of you who have sponsored us, to know our spirit is still FULLY ON! we are swimming in the serpentine in Hyde Park tomorrow morning at 8am - if you have been in the UK this week, it's not warm... swimming will continue and our commitment to our various charities does too. Yet another wonderful friend of mine died this week from cancer, and his wife asked me to swim for him, He was called Mike (the same as our Pilot), I'll absolutely swim for you, just have a word up there to make sure we can!!

We are also having a seabreezer dinner tomorrow night, to just stay deeply connected to each other, and perhaps celebrate the opportunity to extend this challenge and these relationships a little longer. Niki Lemon, Sarah Moralee, Bridget Gisby and Peter Frost, you are all wonderful special people, I can't wait to swim with you.

A reminder once again, that the journey is as important as the end game, as my strength and power return it's each day that matters.

Swimming in Treacle and Healing Hugs

Saturday 15th and Sunday 16th were always planned to be the last all girl swim before the channel neap tides began 23rd September, we put them in the calendar one afternoon early 2012 when we were all together building our training plans, it should have been the most fun weekend, all the hard work done and being fully ready for our swim.

After an exhausting week sitting vigil with my very sick father I said my goodbyes and headed down to his brothers in Sandbanks Poole to meet the girls for a swim saturday afternoon and a few hours on Sunday. Saturday was beautiful, the swimming was simple and cleansing, and the warmth of the late afternoon sun was a perfect balsam to a tired soul.

Sadly at 3am my twin called and broke the news that Dad had passed away, and amidst tears and whispered conversation i confess to feeling both huge sadness and huge relief - he lasted 9 days in palliative care with no food or fluid, he was made of stern stuff it appears, and at last was resting in peace. One upside was that it meant I could tell his brother face to face, small comfort for us both, but the connection to Dad in that hug was very special, something about serendipity there...

As usual, I paid scant regard to my emotional reaction, my rational self telling me that it was a blessing for him, crying a little but then ‘cracking on’ as he would have wanted. The day was grey and cool, but the sea was beautiful and calm, and the first hour was pleasurable with some extra drills in place to practice changing the pace up and down, something I am crap at. As we waited for Niki to arrive after a friends wedding, we did gymnastics and olympic long jump on the beach, giggling like 5 year olds, but anything to keep warm!

So you can see a picture of normality! Well, as normal as 3 grown women wearing multiple layers of towels, dressing gowns and hoodies can look on a deserted beach pretending to be olympic athletes. Pictures to prove it...

So, Why the title ‘swimming in treacle’?

The sea is always warmer the second time you go in, don’t know why, mental game I think. We were all smiling at the fact that at last the 4 of us were swimming side by side again, and the reality of being only 1 week away from the start of our swim was just brilliant. We swim at different paces, well, Moralee basically beats the rest of us hands down while we all try and keep up. We swam for 30 minutes down the coast, when the tide is gentle it means less need to swim back and forth - one of the brighton swims was 25 minutes in one direction and only 7 in the other for the same distance. It was about that point i noticed that my fluidity had escaped me, having learnt to swim from scratch, my muscle memory is pretty good, but I felt tired, in pain, and decidedly lumpy... in fact, on reflection, decidedly soggy.

Despite trying to be brave, keep going, and push them down, tears were trying to force themselves up. On land that isn’t a problem (although driving while crying is hard I have found), but when your face is buried in water, and your eyes are in goggles, the feeling was one of suffocation, and the harder I tried to stop them the slower my body went, my emotions being buried meant my body was somehow playing out the feeling, the slow, sad, weariness of the previous 3 weeks, and the sleepless previous night, and I was getting refusal. I hadn’t associated grief with the impact of shock. Even 4 days later as I write this, I am exhausted, trying not to worry about training, but just getting mentally fit for next week instead.

Anyway, how did it end? I swam slowly until I got into the buoy swimming area, where I could stand up, and then with the gentle waves, cool breeze and nature all around me I wept. I cried hard, those wonderful loud gulping noises we make when we no longer care what people think, sobs wracking me and salty tears joining the salty sea all around me. Bloody hell nature is amazing at helping us heal in that way. Niki, Bridget and Moralee swam to me, and gave me the most precious gift - they held me, all three of them hugging me, wrapped around me whispering, and encouraging me to let it go. I apologise unreservedly to them for the snotfest (to use my twins word), but not for the tears, and thank them from the heart of my bottom for just ‘being’ with me in that moment.

If you ever want to test the human spirit, just let your friends in. If you ever want to make new deep forever friends, take on a challenge with them. Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, its about learning to Dance in the Rain. The Channel swim has become a metaphor, alongside the passing of my wonderful dad, for living life to the full, for all those people who realise today is for now, go large or go home! If you want to sponsor me.... WWW.Justgiving.com/Nikki-Watkins-Seabreezers

Commitment comes in all Conditions

Two weekends ago Sunday 2nd September, we had to divert from Brighton as Gay Pride week was on, so in an attempt to find somewhere equally easy to get to, we scoured the south coast and decided on Worthing... Sounds nice?!

It was grey, raining and miserable - remember, I am the queen of ‘It will be glorious’ but for once, the universe conspired to ensure we were prepared for different weather. In an attempt to not get everything soaked, we agreed in the end to drive Bridgets car and park next to the beach on the main road, and get changed in the car. Our plan was to only wear our swim gear, flipflops, take one towel each and the car keys. Everything else was in the car (including my own car keys, all the phones, money, etc).

Walking to the beach was fun, people in waterproofs, welly boots, coats and umbrellas watched bewildered, and we sniggered at the curious sight we must have made. Fortunately I had packed a dustbin liner, so we packed our towels and keys and headed into the sea. It is a weird experience swimming in the rain, quite liberating, what we hadn’t bargained on was the masses of brown seaweed, the dirty water and the rip tides. Nonetheless we were determined.

At one point we were trying to swim a final 10 meters to a flag pole, it took 10 minutes of hard push to get there and as soon as we did we were swept back again! It was at that point we noticed how high the tide was, so decided to call it quits. At 80 minutes we finally staggered onto the beach as we watched my flipflops already floating and the sea lifting the bag up on the waves. Remember, inside the bag was towels and keys, we had NOTHING else with us.

Whilst the universe might have had ideas about the weather it also had a warning about preparation and safety. Even though my preparation skills are ok, I’ve always been a bit reckless (hated that word when someone first called me it), but it was a sobering thought that we could have been on a beach in the rain in our swimsuits with no way to contact anybody, no money, no transport, no phone. I’m sure people would have taken pity on us....wouldn’t they?

To add insult, we discovered there were no showers - there are never hot ones, but the seaweed and water left us covered in muck, in the end we found a storage cupboard with trains in and changed there - so unglamorous!! Especially when the train man came in midway through....

So, whilst you may have seen countless shots of us on sunny beaches, smiling happily, with ever growing sun-tans, we are committed in all conditions, even if the worthing weather comes to visit us while we are on the boat - after all, as I learnt long ago.... Prior preparation prevents pi** poor performance!!

Tomorrow, Saturday 15th September, we are heading down to Sandbanks, for 2 days of swimming. The weather is destined to be beautiful, the beach is sandy, the sea certainly not as dynamic as Brighton, it will be the last time the four of us swim together before the Channel swim itself - Mental, Physical, Emotional and Spiritual Preparation all wrapped up together, can’t wait! Especially as the team swimsuits have arrived!!

Life is what happens to you when you are busy making plans

I’ve always been busy.

This challenge to swim the channel has once again put a major goal into my life that followed 4 years of pretty intense activity already, with my karate training for my 1st Dan (blackbelt), and building a house for 2 years, and then this last 18 months of training, and as we accelerate through the 2 weeks before the event, I am already thinking about what is next.

However, amidst all of that rushing around, my father has become very ill, a second stroke completely paralysing him this time - unlike last time he couldn’t beat it, and he has only a little time left.

Last week I had a melt down, my workload is huge again, we have decided to sell our beautiful home, trying to swim as much as possible in order to not let my team down, and then dealing with the intense emotions from my Dads condition and the impact on all of our family. I called for help from a friend, I don’t do that often, She listened as I sobbed, and then asked a powerful question, an obvious question unless you are busy....What are you going to ‘Not Do’.

In the split second of realising I could give myself permission to not do it all - the relief was audible. You would think once you’d experienced this you would never forget, oh no, it has happened many times over the years, and here I am again, needing a nudge from someone who cares.

So how does all that relate to my channel swim? I’ve been so busy I nearly forgot to enjoy it... I had an incredible holiday at the end of July when I swam nearly every day, one day I swam 4 hours over the day which should be the maximum we swim at the end of this month, and I reveled in it! But once I came back, got back into work, got sick with laryngitis, and got too busy to swim frequently, I realised it had become a chore.

Oh my god! 'Life' becomes a chore when you are too busy!

Or of course your 'busy-ness is not aligned to your purpose :)

Saturday the universe conspired to reward me for deciding what NOT to do, I prioritised Dad and Swimming over everything else, and Brighton was beautiful, the sun shone, the sea was like a lake and our first 75 minute swim was easy, invigorating and fulfilling. The second swim equally wonderful, and then lounging in the sun on the beach musing with my friends was a real oasis.

On reflection, I have always sought an oasis, that has been what has kept me nourished to deal with the rest of my busy world. I need to build my oasis into my daily world, to find solace in my family, joy in simplicity and quiet, and hope in a productive future rather than a busy one. As another good friend said ‘Your biggest challenge would be to spend the next 3 months doing nothing’...

I confess, I’m not sure how I will do that yet, but if you are my friend and you are reading this, rest assured I’ll be calling on you.

www.justgiving.com/nikki-watkins-seabreezers

Sea Breezers in the Sea at last!

"Look at the Waves" "let's find the lifeguards and ask them where to swim." "OK, but let's tell them we are experienced open water swimmers but that we haven't swum in Brighton before" "Have you got suntan lotion on?" "No, I never wear it, we'll be fine" !

Saturday 30th June

The sun shining, the wind blowing, we ventured to Brighton. Just Niki and I with our new GB Olympic styled swimsuits and new white mirrored goggles, and pink Gnarly Nutters hats - Funny how your kit seems so important to set you up for a good swim!. With 18 mph ssw wind, and 0% chance of rain, it was still surprising how empty the beach was, in fact when we arrived at 11.30 (we waited for the cloud to clear), there were no swimmers, and anyone else who was mad enough to be on the beach was fully clothed.

Please take our picture?" we said to the couples next to us who were watching our rituals of getting ready, and the man with the two small children called at us and our bravery:)

'

The advice was to swim in front of the buoys (about 100 meters out from shore), it took 7 minutes just to get out to a place where the waves were breaking slightly less over our heads, we squealed and giggled as we leapt up over the enormous waves, trying to look like we had even been in the sea before, eventually we realised we just had to swim.

So we swam! and we smiled, and swam and swallowed sea water, and swam some more, The sea was powerful, and as we relaxed into the rhythm it struck me that the one thing I didn't have to think about was the swimming, my arms and legs were working as they needed to, thank goodness for the relentless pool lengths, the cold water swims, the lake challenges, and the muscle memory. For the first time, I truly, really, just thought about the conditions, rolling with the waves, aiming for the top of the big crashing ones, and waiting for the next breath if the waves crashed over me. And of course, every time I looked left there was Lemon, a pink hat, reminding me that we are in this together.

That was just before we both lost our goggles. 42 minutes into our first swim. Gone within 60 seconds of each other. Once more a reminder of how powerful the sea is, dunked, rolled, bashed and stripped of sight. And a 15 minute walk back to our towels on the stony beach. Advice from the Lifeguard "Wear your goggles under your hat, that way they can't get swept off" DUH! Seeemples!!!

Not to be outdone. We warmed up for an hour, ate, drank, sunbathed fully clothed, and snuggled under towels, blankets, and Johns big dressing gown. Then we got up and did it again, spare goggles under our hats this time, and the waves even bigger. 25 minutes to swim to the buoys this time, In the end we just swam, as if in a wave machine in a pool, going nowhere, but exhausting swimming and such great experience. A few vomiting sessions, alot of gagging on salt water, and a thousand flashes of memory of the sun breaking through, shining on our shoulders, the GB swimsuits flashing white and blue, the pink hats visible above everything, and the noise of the waves with the silence of being amidst them. 64 minutes. Done. A little sunburn won't stop us doing it again:)

Simply beautiful. Simply swimming. Simply the Sea. Sea Breezers Go.

Command your thoughts...

Wednesday 27 June 2012

“Are you going slower or am I going faster?” I said to Niki Lemon this morning during our early morning sabbatical to the Serpentine amidst the mosquitos and weeds...

Funny how we compare ourselves to others (or is that just me :) Every time I hit another milestone I think about all those who do it better, faster, smarter, more efficiently, for longer, and remind myself I can do more. Well, not as gently as a reminder most of the time.

That little voice that sits on my shoulder asking me if I am good enough, or telling me i’m not. She’s the one that visits when I am feeling vulnerable, scared, defensive or just a bit low, and then I doubt myself. Over the years I have built various strategies for dealing with that, and whilst some of those are still external, (it’s good to be reassured), the most powerful is when I have a quiet word with myself, revisit old affirmations, re-read the inspiring words of Marianne Williamson, or with my belief in synchronicity something drops into my inbox/is said/ appears on facebook:- This morning it was ‘If you want to be happy set a goal that commands your thoughts, liberates energy and inspires your hopes’ Andrew Carnegie.

Command your thoughts. They run away with you!

Saturday 14th June

The Sea Breezers set a goal to go to Dover to swim our 2 hour ratification swim for the channel. The weather was horrific, so instead we hit the serpentine at 6.45 am, had a morale boosting discussion, committed to each other that the 5 of us (including our coach and friend Pete) would do the 2 hour swim no matter what. It was pretty non-negotiable, and with that at the front of my mind, the rest was history.

It was a first, a first for me, and a first for everyone else! None of us had ever swum 2 hours constantly in one bout and certainly not in 15 degree water. We talked about it afterwards and realised the collective commitment was by far the biggest determinant of success in the end. For me, I didn’t even allow any thought to enter my head except a gentle countdown, an easy rhythm, and staying in the present, no dramatising, no forward projecting, and no doubt.

When we are in the channel in September, I will know that I can swim 2 hours, and with that knowing comes a little peace.

With all the preparation in May and June - Eton for 2 different open water swims, Marlow Lake Monday and Thursday nights, and the Serpentine for early morning day break swims, I was ready for a trip to the Seaside - June 30th 2012 - Niki Lemon and I couldn't wait!

Humility Rules OK

The Lake is open!!

That's the thought I woke up with, after talking to another swimmer in wycombe pool about the fact the olympians are swimming in it (Russians I think...) they've come early, and every 50 meter pool in the area has given up water for this wonderful mission! He asked me if I'd swum in the lake yet, I boldly told him I was way ahead of him, having swum the Serpentine in a swimsuit and Poole in rainy, choppy conditions. Pride before a fall?....

In all eagerness I reached out to anyone I thought might 'fancy' a swim with me in the Westhorpe lake in marlow on Bank holiday monday 7th May. Plenty of hope as always, and just 45 minutes before planned entry the lovely Juliette called asking if I was going - 'Really??'. Now, it's not normal for me, but for some reason I felt a little trepdation around this particular swim, I confessed to being nervous and delight at her coming. Perhaps the thought of going alone, or the knowledge that with only 20 weeks to go, I just have to 'get on with it' - there are no walls to kick off from, it just requires one arm after the other, and the face to be in the water. I say 'Just'....

On arrival there were about 30 other swimmers, including a few from the Gnarly nutters clb that I regularly swim with - Craig and Richard, all talking about doing a full loop of the lake - around a mile if I understand correctly. Juliette, a little more sensible, was suggesting (and only because she'd already cycled 77 miles that day - gulp) that we just swim to the first buoy and back. My bravado, lack of analysis on the enormity of the situation led me to agree a full loop was the only option. Fully wetsuited, 2 hats, goggles, ear plugs, and getting into the 12 degree water was ok!

The 'OK' Ended there

The wetsuit felt like an over tight glove strangling my neck, the murky water with the branches, leaves and floating debris was disturbing, the cold seeped into my brain, and the buoy looked miles away, even further when every stroke doesn't take you forwards but sideways (I haven't figured out swimming in a straight line). Thank the Lord for Juliette, for her patience, her gentleness, her encouragement and her constant checking in that I was ok. Breathing became the biggest problem, the inability to take a full breath, regardless of how much I tried to relax, although the voice of the two men who coached us at the serpentine and poole also didn't allow for much relaxation

"Keep swimming, you'll get too cold, and then you will be in trouble!"

So the conflict continued in my head.

'Don't cry' 'Get me out of here''Keep Swimming' 'Please let me stop''The wetsuit will help if you let it''My arms aren't working'

. The voices were so loud.

It's cathartic to write this all down. Some things I do know:- The journey to the end game can be tough, and the tough days maximise learning in a way that good days just don't seem to. I had a few like that in the training for my BlackBelt in Karate a few years ago. I cried for 2 days solid after one particularly tough session. Speaking to a a leader today, he spoke to the value of making mistakes/'losing'/ failing, being 3-4 times more powerful than the winning, and it's what I preach to leaders regularly. The 'Knowing Doing Gap' as i would say to my kids. AND a greater purpose than just crossing the lake - watch out for our JustGiving page...

As much as I want to be superwoman, perfect, invincible, and have all the drivers to be ok, this was a reminder of the power of nature, and the enormity of the mind over body, and a perfect learning point to see how I responded. We stopped short of the first buoy and Juliette gave me permission to swim back, touching her toes, swimming 40 strokes at a time. Vulnerable, Humbled, and trying to digest the learning without beating myself to hard, we made it back.

It seems so dramatic now in hindsight, but was so scary at the time, and patience with myself is going to be a key part of the next 20 weeks.

Once again, I have Juliette to thank, who broke down the journey into bitesize chunks, and a wonderful phone call with Niki as I whimpered down the phone, a vital reminder that women, when we support each other, are powerful beyond measure (to quote Marianne Williamson), and I know, I know now, that there will be more times like this, but I am not alone. There are wonderful people there to remind us that when we ask, we seek, we are vulnerable, people will step in and help and how wonderful that is to be cared for in such a visible way.

The Sea Breezers in Poole - 28 April 2012

Mastering swimming in the Sea was always going to be the toughest step. So apart from our one Dover swim in September 2011 and our various holidays this was the first Sea Breezers swim. Whilst the weather on Friday was glorious blue sky and gentle waves, 7am Saturday morning proved a little different, the rain, wind and cold returned during the night to sap any warmth we'd built up from the toasty bagels and hot tea breakfast.

Bob Holman, our new best friend, chairman of the East Dorset Open water swimming association, and all round fantastic guy met us, in the rain, on the beach at 8am, an incredible response to my 'fair maiden call for help'. This, after my Uncle Paul (and Aunty Mary who we were staying with), said he would not support us going into a new sea without a clear picture of the tides, the risks and the areas we should swim in. Thank goodness we did, Bob guided us in the route to swim, walked along the shore to keep an eye on us, and coached us on how to cope properly in the cold (stay fit, so you can keep up the stroke, which means the core stays warm) - "Seeemples", Big hats off though, as confident as the four of us were, the safety and assurance of having an expert close by was just wonderful.

Thank Bridget for taking the picture!

So, what of the swim? We made the decision to wear wetsuits, in the rain, wind and cold, we decided it was more important to do the swim, learn about our reactions to the waves, the cold on our heads and the gagging from salt water, rather than get too cold and only last for a short time. An hour in, just under 2 miles, and the only one swimming straight was Sarah, why doesn't the sea have lines on the bottom!!

Niki's parents also joined us on the beach, Richard being stir crazy after a hip operation (and then marching around on the sand with his crutches!!), and Susie being a great mum ready with the umbrella and a hug, and then looking after Moralee's wetsuit (yes she went in for the last 20 minutes in a swimsuit - she's well hard). One swim down, Chilblains, Frozen limbs, Bruised chafed necks, but all worth it, Brighton in 2 weeks, Eton 3k swim in 4 weeks, and the schedule continues...getting in the sea proved that we can all do it, we can swim for an hour, and that the rain, the choppy sea and the cold are just part of the ever changing landscape, in the words of some great philosopher

Go Big or Go Home

A year can make all the difference....

I walked into the heated pool area had a 20 minute chat with Pete Frost my new swim coach, and after an attempt to swim a length of breast stroke, he uttered the now immortal words 'OKAY! Let's start with the basics, floating, rotating and breathing, before we even consider swimming frontstroke'. That was 22 March 2011.

Moralee and I walked into the heated pool area, said hello to the Gnarly Nutters tri club and joined them for a 1 hour swim including 15 x 100 meters off 2 minutes. A quick sauna and a break for 45 minutes and back into the pool for exactly an hour and 150 lengths. A quick banana break for 30 mins and then back in for a final half an hour of 15 x 100 meters. 2.5 hours nearly 7 kilometers. That was 17 March 2012.

Lemon and I walked into Hyde Park, as the sun peeked gently through wispy cloud, and we watch 2 men with pink hats and pink skin swimming past us in the serpentine, we spot the other two 'sea breezers' waiting by the club house (Moralee and Gisby) and squeal excitedly before stripping off to our swimsuits, giggling at our madness and heading for the steps.

That was today, 7.30am Saturday 14th April 2012, we lasted 20 minutes, in 10 degree water, (if you want to know how that feels, just dip your head in a big tub of ice cream...my twin Andi and our friend Dibs may recall doing that aged 13... )and then had the shakes so bad we could hardly drink our tea! (From the left:- Niki Lemon, Bridget Gisby, Sarah Moralee, Nikki Watkins)

One benefit of swimming in the river was we met some of the fantstic serpentine team, chatted about the channel and got additional ideas for how we're going to approach it, the naked men in the shared small changing hut were a little surprising (not much to see after the cold water though:) heh heh, but when you realise how cold your body is, your modesty leaves you and getting the wet swimsuit off is all that matters...thanks John for your old dressing gown, we'll all be looking for old heavy towelling robes now! Mum hand them over:)

Anyway, a year does make a difference, I've learnt to respect water with its variety of temperatures, flows, tastes, and buoyancy. I understand more than ever that the mind does matter, I've discovered proper fuel is required or my body doesn't work, and today I discovered the absolute pleasure of swimming parallel with my sea breezer team, able to see their bodies and faces and to feel the collective energy of this powerful group of women, I am so proud to be a part of it!

Roll on our shared sea training sessions, go large or go home.

How many channel crossings can I complete before the date?

John bought me a swimming watch for my birthday, and at last it came out of its packaging and into the pool last week. Apart from the odd technical hitch (I kept inadvertently pressing buttons...) it recorded some interesting stats on my swim about my efficiency (above average thanks to starting from scratch), my stroke, my speed etc.

It wasn't until thursday night when I was talking to my son Ben about the stats that he asked me a great question - "How far is the channel, and how many times will you swim it (in miles) before the date?"

What a great visualisation! So, from 1st March I am now recording the mileage I swim, and having just got back from a 7am Gnarly Nutters swim session this fine saturday morning, I am now on 2.2 miles, over 10% of the way across the channel as the crow flies. I LOVE IT!

I have had many 'realisations' during my training, and probably the biggest one is the level of commitment required to achieve any big goal. Whilst my daughter Jess was at Oxford Brookes Uni last week applying for Art Foundation I went swimming in a local pool. Having decided to do a 90 minute swim, after only 30 minutes they closed it for school children :( Undeterred I leapt out, surfed my blackberry for other pools in the vicinity, phoned 2 who sadly had the same timetable, accosted a poor man to find any other recommendations, and finally realised a lot of the pools in oxford are shut 9.30 - 12 on wednesdays.

A less determined person would have quit and gone to the Macdonalds on the Headington roundabout (yup i did consider it..), however, I had made the commitment to swim, so rather than procrastinate, I made a decision, I jumped in the car, drove the 25 miles back to High Wycombe, put my wet suit back on and swam for another hour, before returning to oxford to collect Jessica.

Breaking down the big goal into these smaller commitments may be obvious, but what happens is that we get a boost every time we achieve them. Yes, I felt very self righteous, but what I felt most was the satisfaction of sticking to my commitment. This mindset has helped many who are trying to achieve breakthroughs, or hit a longstanding goal, and I know it will be what helps me to swim in september 2012. Each leg is an hour, each hour gets us closer to france, each stroke is for a greater good. The commitment is to myself, to my team mates, and most of all to the charities we support.

As Zig Ziglar said “It was character that got us out of bed, commitment that moved us into action, and discipline that enabled us to follow through.”

Old Friends New Friends

"Get ready to swim. I have a friend who is an open water swimmer and he is keen to take you out along Jericho. You'll need a wet suit. Temperature should be 7-8 degrees. How does that sound?"

That is not the kind of email I would have expected from my gorgeous friend Cathy a year ago...and frankly it sounds mad!

However, it is now, and yesterday was the day. The sun was shining, the sky was blue and the water as still as a millpond, it sounds idyllic until you put your face in the sea.

Jamie arrived to greet us at the Vancouver Jericho Sailing club, I was already in my wetsuit raring to go (ignorance is bliss), before completing the look with thermal hats, gloves and surf boots - thanks to Cathy's begging and borrowing from Pete and Glenda (seriously, thank you both!!!)

The sea took my breath away, and it never quite came back, I lost control of my mouth after about 5 minutes because of the cold, and after swallowing sea water continuously, lost my lunch half way through. The wetsuit puts a pressure on my shoulders that is quite unpleasant, and the gloves and boots were a clumsy addition to the swimming - sounds like heaven?

So what was good about it? The sea was mostly calm, I swam for about 30 minutes, Cathy walked along the shore cheering me on, (Jamie was off like a rocket!) and a chance meeting with Isabelle another good friend on the beach gave me a chance for a quick kiss hello and a little adrenalin hit of having two wonderful inspirational girls cheering me on and just being there for me too!

Jamie, I long to swim with the vigor you had, mind over matter when your head feels like its bleeding! I will never forget this day as a fantastic chance to swim in the sea with the snow covered mountains and the Vancouver city sky line behind. Cathy and Jamie made it happen - that is VERY special.

Old friends, New friends, if we open ourselves up to it, there are plenty who are willing to help us fulfil our dreams, to be a part of something special and bigger than all of us, the human connection.

Team Spirit

No not the drink that shares the same name as our Channel team! But the sort that warms the soul from the tips of your toes and back up again, after our swim in Putney a week ago, I was joined by Bridget for an early morning Gnarly Nutters swim in marlow, followed by a very painful spinning class (bring on the gel saddle...).
Its the first class for both of us, and we were as usual treated with the culture that Pete Frosty has created in his tri club of openness, generosity, support and care, lots of smiles and laughter and a complete 'can do' attitude.
We LOVED it. It became apparent that whilst our swim team is 4 women, the extended team of supporters, coaches, friends, families and loved ones is the one that will really get us through. My best friend from vancouver Claire is flying over to be on the boat while I swim. I am welling up just thinking how special and precious that is, to fly half way round the world to see your mad friend leap into the channel - it takes true friendship that started for us as teamwork, 15 years ago, building cultural change into a fantastic organisation called Crystal.
Culture is created by people. The culture of our swim team starts with us, but is influenced by everyone around it. It's team spirit at its best and it makes me so proud.
4 Open water swims signed up for today - between 1 mile and 3.6 km - i can only do it because of the team!

Sea Breezers Swim practice

Our first swim in 2012, with our lucky Gnarly nutters hats, after planning our calendar of Dover, Poole and open water swims. By the time we get into the sea in September we will have done at least 11 Dover swims conditioning ourselves for the cold, the rain, the waves and the dark waters.

We also plan to spend some days at the swimming pool where we get in and out, so that we experience the challenge of a 90 minute swim repeated over 12 hours, and I confess a sense of relief that we will at least be physically fit if we do everything we plan as a base and build on that to meet our calendars.

Today was 60+ lengths of the 33 meter long pool in Putney. What was lovely
was the connection and joy I felt towards three talented, powerful and inspirational women, as we were all motivating and coaching each other, sharing fears, hopes and dreams, and crafting our approach to the challenge. It will be something special that when we've done it, we'll be linked in that way that only people who've been through something tough together know.

Friends forever, a deep rooted trust in each other, and a story to tell our future generations. Here's to an extraordinary 2012, I am so proud to be part of this crew :)

Drafting for a friend

Ever heard of Drafting? Not to do with drawing, but in terms of swimming! The aerodynamics that happen when you follow someone in the water. I have only experienced it a couple of times, initially believing that my swimming had suddenly become so much faster and then being corrected by Moralee (one of the 'sea breezers' swimming the channel).

Last night I had the privilege of tucking in behind Juliette, and frankly, I loved it, it is an extraordinary feeling of being supported in the water and pulled without force. We swam 100 lengths in different sets, yes that's 2k if you do the maths (thanks Pete :). The only caveat, you have to keep up the pace, and try not to let the gap between you get too big so that you get the full benefit. It's hard because there is always that temptation to take an extra breath at the end, but the lack of air is outweighed by the gift of the pull. I read up on it this morning, if you swim 0-50 cm from the toes of the swimmer in front you increase your performance by as much as 21% - we could all use that in life!!

Who do you draft for in life? Who creates the draft for you? We all need an extra bit of support now and then to feel a bit faster, a bit better, a bit stronger and a bit more capable. If you've been drafting for me you know who you are, and I want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart.

And Juliette, please swim in the middle lane again next week....

Swimsuit dramas - not for the faint hearted

It's hard enough buying swim wear for holidays, but swimwear for proper swimming is a whole new story. Apparently in my first 6 months of swimming I was wearing the wrong one because it was too big (they should be tight enough that you should be able to run in your swimsuits girls), in search of a wetsuit the assistant persuaded me to buy a 'smaller than normal' speedo endurance, and it was frankly perfect.
So, imagine my excitement when I ordered a new speedo, titled LZR Pro, with special water repellant attributes, nice and tight, so tight, it prevented a deep breath and not sure whether I would have stayed fully in it (if you get my jist), so, with faith I ordered 2 sizes larger, and it fitted ok ish...

Picture the scene.
Hot shower before getting in the pool (amazing how few people do), slightly odd feeling of water gathering around my nether regions, distracted by water sitting on the surface of the costume in droplets and marvelling at the 'repellent' fabric. Too many splashy men in the deep end so I get in the shallow end to swim with the 'ladies what lunch'.

Enter the pool, feeling smug about how my new suit will give me the 'edge'. Then the dawning realisation that the suit has two layers, and in between them is filling up with water. As I swim, it literally wafts from side to side, like a fat suit, rippling around me and making me anything but streamlined in the pool. I stop at the end and stand up, watching the water gather in a pregnancy shape of around 6 months in my stomach, it requires me to press it to release the water.

I was so much in the mood to try for another full hour swim :( In the end I manage 40ish lengths realising the reason I need to keep hooking my suit out of my bottom cheeks is because of the weight of the water at the front. In the end in exasperation I give up, haul myself out, and realise that the water has then created a full nappy (diaper for the canadians reading this) appearance for all to see.

Sigh. Swimming is already sooo unattractive, mascara problems no matter how much you remove, red marks from the goggles that last 2+ hours afterwards and definitely are impacting my eye bags, the stink of chlorine that never seems to go, the dryness of my skin, the discolouring of my hair, and a pink stretchy hat, its somehow more manageable with a suit that fits.

Now for the reality check... In truth this is all tiny in comparison the challenges faced by the people we will be honouring when we swim the channel, those who survived cancer, and those who fought bravely through it and didn't. They wouldn't care a jot about a swimsuit malfunction, so in the interest of perspective, I giggled with my mum, my kids and my husband about the nappy and fat suit look, and bless my life that this is as hard as it gets.

The year of the swim

Deep breath and dive in!

4 swim sessions in 10 days, it is the pattern that needs to continue to get prepared for September. Saturday 7th January was one of those days where the water supported me, and the swimming was natural, it doesn't happen often, but it happens often enough to believe.

I committed to myself to swim for an hour, in the end it was 120 lengths (nearly 2 miles in one hour), wrapped up as 100m packets alternating front crawl and then front crawl with pool buoy, it's cheating, but it means my arms and neck are getting used to the constant rotation. For a change I only stopped after half an hour, more because I could than because I needed to, and that in itself is a breakthrough.

Tomorrow I am meeting the wonderful people who were at the retreat I attended in October in Spain, and I am excited to share with them the continuing breakthroughs that they helped me initialise with positive thoughts, words and beliefs, we all need people around us to keep our own stories real (the gremlins often interfere :). At the Gnarly Nutters swim club on monday one of the newer (yup even newer than me!) moved into 'our lane' and commented on how wonderful it was to swim with others vs on her own.

I'm not surprised, Pete told me my swimming development was now about training with others, our natural competitiveness, desire to belong, connection and inspiration from people all drive us to perform above and beyond our own self limiting beliefs. I would never have agreed to this challenge without being part of a team of inspirational, talented, beautiful and powerful women.

Here's to the day I can swim for a full 90 minutes in a pool and perhaps in the sea...ever onwards...