Channel Swim 15: Global Disaster Strikes
Note: I’m fully aware that already, the coronavirus is having a devastating impact on families all over the world, and peoples lives are being changed in ways that were inconceivable even a month ago. It seems unavoidable that things will be getting significantly worse before we see daylight at the other end as well.
Impacts are going to affect us socially, economically as well as the danger to our health.
Compared to some of these issues, what I’m about to describe is the very definition of small beans, but this is a personal blog about a specific channel swimming attempt and I think it’s fair to say at the moment my plans for that specific event are unravelling.
I’m supposed to be in Mallorca right now, with a group of other aspiring channel swimmers, rapidly building daily sea swim distance in waters of similar temperature and consistency before tackling the six hour qualification swim that is a prerequisite for the channel swim.
Friday, around 11am I had a call from SwimTrek, who were running the camp, asking if everything was in order and if my travel plans were in place. I had a pleasant chat, hung up and looked thoughtfully at the phone for a few minutes before wandering downstairs to discuss the call with Jo. The conclusion I’d come to was that the trip was still on, and SwimTrek were discretely checking if the swimmers were still committed to the week despite the chaos rapidly engulfing Europe. I breathed a sigh of relief as I was becoming increasing concerned that the trip would be cancelled.
Covid-19 had been disrupting my life for weeks with business trips either cancelled or going ahead, but with us on tenterhooks the whole time.
But this week, the week before the swim camp, was the week the world had decided to catch fire.
On Tuesday, the number of cases in Spain surged to 1600 and the authorities started closing schools. The numbers being recorded in the Balearic Islands were much lower however, and on Wednesday I received a reassuring email from SwimTrek that the trip was still going ahead. By Friday the number of cases had doubled, and although the British Foreign Office updated it’s guidance to suggest travel to Madrid and La Rioja be dropped, there were no other exclusions in place.
Meanwhile, I was feeling huge washes of sympathy for the many friends I have who have been training throughout the crappy winter for the London Marathon – it was already obvious there was no way the event would run, and a lot of athletes found themselves just wanting the cancellation to put an end to the uncertainty. I knew I was going to be lucky to get the camp in before other countries followed Italy’s lead and went into lock down.
Except the luck then ran out.
At 4:30 in the afternoon my phone rang again. I recognised the number and immediately my heart sank. I knew as I answered that they would be telling me the trip was off. The SwimTrek team were lovely, they must be under huge pressure themselves and worried about their jobs, but promised to do everything they could to find me an alternative before the Channel Swim. I hung up, and stared at the same phone blankly.
I didn’t know what to do.
Most people who I’ve told about the cancellation have the same immediate reaction:
‘But you’ve got loads of time, surely you can do it later.’
While technically 100% correct, completing the qualification swim now was not what this trip was all about. I was planning to come back from Mallorca with a big item crossed off the list, but most importantly a big lump of earned confidence in my back pocket.
Most of my friends think I’m shockingly poor at planning, and a long track record of turning up at events with only the bare minimum of preparation would, on the surface, back this up. But I do plan. I plan with great care, and the bigger the challenge, the more seriously I take it.
In this instance, after a winter of carefully building my speed and endurance I am about to enter a confidence building test phase. A month ago I made sure I could swim longer in cold(ish) water to give me the knowledge that I’d be able to get through the six hour swim. Next, I’d built in a 20k weekend (Although Hannah the swim coaches swim sets have made that a formality as I’ve found myself swimming longer drills than expected). Two weeks after that I have the Guildford 12 where I swim a mile on the hour every hour for twelve hours. Two weeks after that, I join the swim training team in Dover every weekend.
Every milestone built on the last. Now I’ve got to finish the Guildford 12 – I have to finish it. If I don’t, my confidence will be shattered and there won’t be time to rebuild. Hannah the channel swimmer understood the issue instantly with some practical advice and reassurance. I’m very glad she’s agreed to be on my team.
I can’t do my six hour swim anywhere in the UK except for a pool, which won’t give me what I need, or count as a qualifier. At the moment, lakes and rivers are around seven degrees, and the sea is about 8 degrees. I won’t survive six hours in those temperatures and I don’t think they will be at a level that I can for another month.
And whenever I find to do my six hour qualifier, it will be stealing six hours from time I wanted to spend in Dover, with the other swimmers, soaking up their training and hard earned learnings.
On the plus side, I’ve had reports over the weekend that the Mallorcan police have been chasing down even groups of cyclists and forcing them back to their hotels and apartments, and airlines rapidly cancelling all flights except for rescues, so SwimTrek absolutely made the right decision.
I sulked all weekend. I had swims scheduled that I couldn’t face. This morning I put my big boy pants back on and got back in the pool.
It was eerily quiet. A lot of the ‘regulars’ were missing.
I wonder how long I have before the pools are locked down?
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