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.
