Channel Swim 17: Light at the end of the tunnel

It’s been a while since the last post. I’d just blogged (again) about how we were all having to scrap our plans, pick ourselves off and dust ourselves down, before coming up with a brand new set. I’d written about how I was refocusing on the one remaining open lake in my area for just long enough to get me in the sea; I was determined and focused and ready to do whatever was needed to keep on schedule for my June 10th swim slot.

I posted this on Monday morning.

By Monday afternoon the lake was shut.

Monday evening Boris Johnson announced a nationwide lockdown, and quickly ruled out any possibility of travelling to swim in the sea at weekends.

Although I’d managed to put a number of backup plans into action, it quickly became obvious that the chances of me making my swim window were incredibly small, and that caused me a problem. I’ve always motivated myself through fear – the event that’s like a giant stone rock rolling through the temple behind me, threatening to crush me and occupying my every waking thought is the only thing that consistently gets my backside off the sofa and into a tri or swimsuit, and the rock was gone.

I’ve also been eating pretty much everything in the world – going from 8k swims to near zero, while at the same time losing easy access to fresh fruit and salad is an ongoing apocalypse I’m going to have to p[ay the price for sooner or later.

The rowing machine turned up. Its lovely, and very clever, offering internet connected streaming coaching like a peleton bike. I set it up, had a couple of goes, and have largely ignored it since then.

The turbo trainer was finally connected to Zwift, and although I’ve enjoyed a few time trials and club rides, I’m making 1 or two rides a week.

I even bought the worlds deepest paddling pool and a tether so I could keep swimming (more on this in a bit) and I’m enjoying a big swim, but only every week and a half or so.

Its not what I should be doing, and it’s because the rock is gone. I don’t have the fear of failure, because I just can’t see the swim happening this year; and that means I’ve got loads of time to get ready.

The paddling pool is a great example of this. Early on, I recognised that not being able to swim would be a devastating psychological blow. I started to think about alternatives. I quickly came across the Vasa SwimErg, and discovered that I wasn’t as smart as I thought I was – it had already sold out everywhere in the country. Next, I looked into endless pools – I’d love one, but they seem to start at about £18,000 and there are many things I’d need to spend that sort of money on sooner.

Before everyone started to do it, I was wondering if I could use a tether and a above ground temporary pool.

Some initial research discovered that these sorts of pool are actually remarkably cheap. I bounced my first couple of options off of Barney and we quickly found ourselves discussing my arm length and stroke rotation, soon settling on a more expensive option, but at 1.22m deep, a realistic choice to allow me to swim properly. For less than £320, including the tether, I was soon filling a pool in my back garden.

At this point in my training, ten degrees isn’t an issue from an ability point of view. It did turn out to be an issue from a motivational point of view. I didn’t want to climb into a paddling pool at ten degrees, and because the rock was gone, I didn’t feel the overrriding need to. I’ve done a few swims, including a six mile effort and some splashing around with my son, but haven’t been hammering away for hours every day like I imagined when I ordered it.

I don’t think this is necessarily a bad thing. Its hard to put into words just how valuable knowing that I can swim if I want to has been from a mental wellbeing standpoint. I think it was worth every penny just for that. I’ve also found that the tether resists rotation, putting more strain on some of the muscles in the small of my back, so I think hard core training might have resulted in me injuring myself. Having said that, I was pleasantly suprised when I completed the six mile swim and climbed out of the pool feeling just as fresh as when I started; a year ago I would have been destroyed.

So, with just a day less than four weeks to go until my swim window opens, I still don’t know what’s going to happen. The french borders are closed, and the state of emergency has been extended to July 24th. I can’t imagine a few speedo clad headcases are top of their priority list either. I cannot see how you could socially distance on a channel swim boat. On top of all of this, I haven’t been able to complete my six hour qualifier – which was booked for the week lockdown hit, and the local lake is now above the maximum temperature for the swim. There are alternatives, so this is the easiest to overcome but still, time is running out.

Having said that, I’m certain this is the lowest point – this is the worst it can get.

Right now, worst case scenario would be my skipper ringing me tomorrow and saying ‘Right, we’re going’. Eight weeks of critical training missing would really hurt, but I’d gird my loins, find a way to do my qualifier and give it my best shot.

Second worse case scenario is I have to wait a full year and use the other slot I now have confirmed. There’s lots of pros to this scenario, with hopefully another full winter to acclimatise and build endurance.

But in an ideal world, I don’t want to wait that long, so best case scenario is lockdown lifts, we get lots of training done and I get squeezed into a extra/spare slot sometime late September.

I think this is actually a genuine possibility. I had a brilliant chat with Andre Roberts this morning who is not only a successful channel swimmer but has helped the BLDSA and CSA for many years and has over a hundred crossings as an observer. During our discussion, we considered that there are many athletes whose training or international travel plans may be disrupted by the global situation. There’s probably going to be a few gaps opening up, which is terrible on an individual level, but it may be that some good comes of it.

I would imagine the skippers, like many other businesses, are desparate to salvage any of the swim window that they can.

On Sunday, the prime minister announced the start of easing of lockdown. After a flurry of confusion and contradiction the messaging is starting to clear up. While some of my friends are choosing to minimise their risk and that of others, swimming groups are starting to restart river swimming. The commercial lakes in the area are either open already or desperately trying to work out how they can safely take swimmers so they can start earning vital revenue, and pool operators are starting to plan their start up. Although, in theory, I could drive to the beach and swim in the sea, complications due to the need for a family member and likely huge crowds don’t make that appeal… but I do need to get back in the water.

On balance, however, its good news. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.

All I need to do is convince myself it’s a cross channel train so I knuckle down and train properly.

Previous: Channel Swim 16: Shit Week. We know why. Moving on…

Next: Channel Swim 18: A brave new world