Few of you will have the inclination or sanity to spend any considerable time in waters of just five degrees. Allow me to try and articulate the experience on the body and mind.
There is no way I can compare with the experiences of Sir Ranulph Fiennes. The man is a hero. But every morning that I push my cold water resistance that bit further, I have to endure not only that which seemed impossible to surpass the last time, but also a little bit more.
This morning I aimed for two km in the outdoor pool – some 600m more than I had achieved last week. On arrival to the lido, however, I discovered that the water temperature had dropped another degree.
Simply getting into water that cold requires mental strength and considerable practice. Sudden Immersion Shock Syndrome can kill. But believe it or not, you get used to it. At first, the contact of the liquid against your bare flesh confuses your senses, even though your mind is 100% aware of the actual temperature. Initially, it simply burns.
Reality sets in towards the end of the first 25m. The cold begins to penetrate. For me, it takes much longer to be able to keep my face in the water. Initial submersion of my forehead feels like being hit in the face by a steel tray. All I can do is wait for the pain to subside, then submerge again. Eventually, my face and head simply go numb. My jaw freezes. With no-one to speak to on these glorious morning outings, I can only assume I would be unable to talk anyway. Besides, rational though soon becomes difficult.
The latter part, that of not being able to hold a sensible thought for long, may be self induced. After all, the one overriding logical wish is to get out of the water. Yet the main thing I have to keep telling myself is to ignore that desire to get out, and to just keep swimming. And added to this, I need to ignore the cold and pain that is slowly penetrating through my wetsuit gloves and boots, and is eating its way into my flesh like an acid.
The pain at the extremities is physical and undeniable. What creeps up on you, stealthily, is the cold to your core.
At 400m shy of my target this morning (but still 200m progress on my previous best), I realised I needed to get out. I can’t say I left it too late, but neither do I think I could have left it much later.
To exit the water I had to roll onto the side of the pool. My legs could not support me properly, and though my arms could lift my body out of the water, they could not drag me to the showers. Some moments were spend on all fours, worrying that I was looking frankly ridiculous, whilst also wondering how I was going to proceed from here. I could see a lifeguard eyeing me with concern.
Determined not to look any more foolish, I hauled myself to my feet. Walking is sometimes referred to as controlled falling – my stumble to the showers was bordering on utterly uncontrolled.
I realised just how cold I was when, after two or three minutes of a hot shower, I was still completely unable to take off even one glove. A deep, uncontrollable shiver set into my entire body. Hot water was pouring over me, and though this was reviving me on the outside, my insides were not being penetrated by the heat. A flask of hot, sweet tea was available nearby, self prepared at 05:30 for this very eventuality.... except that I would not have been able to unscrew the lid, and nor did I want to step out of the shower to go and get the flask.
It was only after more than ten minutes that I could turn the water off. The shivering had subsided, but had certainly not stopped. Tea was self administered, but my hands were shaking in the most violent way. Simply bringing the cup of hot liquid close to my face warranted a dedicated insurance policy.
All in all, for around a 45 minute swim, it took well over half an hour to properly warm up. Even now, some two hours later, pin-pricks of sensation still cover my skin. It’s this ‘invigoration’ that keeps regulars going back every day. Except that they are currently only doing four or five minutes.
And the best thing about all of this: I have to do it all again tomorrow – plus a little bit more!
Some time ago I was lucky enough to take delivery of several boxes of Vita Coco, generously donated by Hugh Thomas, the UK brand manager.
Now that the distance of my training swims has increased, these individual cartons are really coming into their own. Swims of 8km, or even a speed session of 3km like today, all carried out in a warm indoor pool, dehydrate you more than you would realise. Replacing that fluid quickly and in a healthy way is vital for recovery. Having something which does this and tastes good too is a real bonus. Vita Coco certainly seems to work for me.
Short blog, as the picture on the left really does say it all. Suffice to say that when I got to the lido, five minutes after it opened, some of the regulars were already in the shower. They had managed six lengths.
Admittedly I had wetsuit boots and gloves on, but I managed one km, with the promise to myself that I would add an extra 200 meters tomorrow.
I've almost warmed up now. Almost.
I'm currently knocking out 6 km swims at David Lloyd's in around 2 hours 20 mins. Without the sponsorship they have given me, and subsequent access to their facilities, being able to swim for such a consolidated time would be all-but impossible in Worcester.
My training plan, right, shows how quickly I now have to start ramping up the mileage (or KMage to be precise). As the months progress, I am soon going to find that I'm one of the few people in the UK who think the summer is approaching too rapidly. Whilst some days I can knock out long swims, on others I cannot access a pool at all, due to work/travel commitments. The challenge is complex.
My next goal is for an 8 km straight swim. Within a few months I need to be achieving 20 km+ each week, balancing training, work, travel and family life.
2014, 'The Year of the Swim' is going to prove one of the toughest of my life!
Happy New Year to everyone following this blog, and hence my swimming progress.
My Christmas and New Year break was spent in the Canaries with my family. But rather than lounging on the beach with a cold beer, I put in some serious training, both in the sea and on the land. Virtually every morning was spent either running along the promenade, or swimming in the Atlantic - sometimes both! Indeed, on Christmas day and New Year's day I was heading out into rough seas, accompanied only by a high visibility emergency flotation device and curious seagulls.
The average sea temperature for that time of year is around 15-16 degrees C. I had no way to check what the actual temperature was, but if the seasonal norms held true, that will equate to the same conditions I can expect on my Channel swim - though perhaps without the warm sun and clear skies. My longest holiday swim was in the region of 6-7 km, according to a map, and took 2 hours 20. Whilst this is only a fraction of the distance I will need to swim on the day (around 42 km), it was a huge mental milestone for me - knowing I could achieve this, out on my own in the Atlantic, quite some way off shore, and battling against the waves.
My focus now returns to distance swimming and acclimatization to cold(er) water again. The Hampstead Lido is currently just eight degrees C. This morning I managed 45 minutes, albeit with wetsuit gloves and boots to ensure the freezing extremities did not drive me out of the water.
The training continues. We are now in the 'Year of the Swim' !