Total Distance 58.4k in 18 swims
Days till crossing: 180
As I finish writing this in the first weeks of March, increasingly worrying external circumstances are putting lots of things in perspective. Leaky goggles and lane swimming no longer seem terribly important (if they ever did!). As much for myself as anything, I still want to keep this as a record of my thoughts during February and will take stock of recent changes in next month’s post. This also might be a slightly shorter post as I rush to get in a few last swims before pools start to close for the foreseeable future!
As term got into full-swing, February was always going to be a busy month. I’ve continued swimming in the river Cam and broke my record for a new coldest swim at 5.3C. The official sport of ice swimming begins under 5C, but apparently this season has been a particularly warm one. This irony has led to headlines like ‘Cheltenham lido 'too warm' for ice swimming championships’, but it certainly hasn’t felt very warm to me. Thanks to a friend who grew up in Cambridge, I was introduced to a small, wonderfully eclectic community of winter swimmers on the banks of the river Cam: Nicky, who swims nude every day of the year, whatever the weather, and Chris, who is busy learning lines for a one-man-show playing Captain Matthew Webb.
It was a busy month, but I’m not too worried about accumulating distance yet. The prevailing wisdom from swimmers I’ve spoken to is to spend the winter months focussed on two things: firstly, nailing a solid technique that is efficient and as injury-proof as possible; secondly, working on speed with lots of short, aerobic threshold and sprinting intervals. I’ve never met her, but Freda, ‘the Channel General’, Streeter (who ran the Dover training club for more than thirty years until 2015) would say there is plenty of time for distance swimming in the summer. She would know, sending countless swimmers off for eight hour swims round the harbour throughout the warmer months.
The biggest positive from this month was definitely reconnecting with my old coach from school. Will helped me swim to keep fit after a rugby injury and eventually prepared me for what was at that point the longest distance I had ever swum: a 10k race. There is some debate, but 10k is generally considered the benchmark for a ‘marathon’ swim distance, partly because times are comparable to a marathon running distance, and likewise because 3hrs is a modestly competitive amateur time. Will is the perfect coach, combining friendly enthusiasm with expert planning, and had me swimming tests to work out my aerobic threshold for a training program. For all his warmth, Will is not sympathetic to tiredness or pain either, which is exactly what you need from a coach who is going to push you and, importantly, put you in a place where you can push yourself.
Being back brought up lots of memories of swimming at school. The walk to the pool slopes away from classrooms, and out towards a widening view of central London’s skyscrapers. I remember early mornings in winter, when pale violet sunrises over frosted fields would seem incongruously close to already bustling traffic far in the distance.
I also remember Wednesday mornings when the military fitness club would come down and do circuits at the poolside. At the time I was training with a couple of friends for the school’s annual endurance race. With the rest of the swim team huffing through their usual sprint work and the circuit group cranking out pull-ups to the time of marching songs, over in lane six Will left us to get on with long, steady sets of 500m. I remember thinking twenty lengths ought to feel like a bit of a slog, but that after four or five I’d zone out and suddenly they’d all be done. It wouldn’t feel easy, but it would feel focused – like I was directly tapped into whatever energy I had and burning through it cleanly.
The Hungarian psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi came up with the idea of ‘flow’ to describe a mental state of intense focus when tackling an activity. He described it as the sweet spot between a something so hard it feels like a big effort and something a little too easy that allows your mind to wander away from the task at hand. He wasn’t thinking about sports exclusively, but it’s come to be adopted by sports psychologists primarily. I hesitate to say I was in a state of ‘flow’ on some of those mornings, because it’s something professional endurance athletes put a lot of thought into finding themselves. But it did feel like I occasionally found some flow for myself on those mornings, amidst all the noise. At very least I developed an ability to disconnect my thoughts from my body a little bit; it’s an ability I find I still have on longer swims, and one that will I’m sure be invaluable on the day of the swim.
For every flowing session now, there are ten when I feel heavy and slow: like I’m fighting through the water instead of gliding over the top of it. That’s ok and I can’t expect (let alone rely) on feeling perfect on the day of the swim, not least because I won’t know the exact day I’m swimming until twelve hours beforehand. Nonetheless, days when I’m flowing through the pool remind me of those morning swims at school. They’re the kind of swims where I feel more energised after than when I began; when the lights turn green as I cycle home and any bits of work waiting on my desk seem to write themselves. I’m reminded of swimming at school and the little bubble of calm in my head, surrounded by noise and breathlessness, and I remember why I love swimming.
Thanks again for all of the support so far. It continues to be a really big motivator as training ticks along. I'll be back with more updates about how present circumstances might affect the swim in a couple of weeks.
Dan
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