Back in May 2008 I had seen an announcement of the forthcoming Great North Swim on the local BBC TV news programme and had very foolishly thought that I wouldn’t mind having a go at it. Functioning on my few impulsive (or should that be very stupid) genes, I immediately logged on the Swim website, paid the fee by credit card and officially entered.
I had only resumed swimming the previous October after a 15-year gap, most of which time was spent on less strenuous activities such as operating the telly remote control and eating chocolate! But by May I was going to the pool once every week and swimming 40 lengths non-stop.
However, I had never swum in open water, had never worn or swam in a wetsuit and had never swum a mile. But September was a long way off and I would be able to do the distance by then wouldn’t I?
I stopped eating crisps and cakes and decreased the chocolate intake (I couldn’t give it up entirely) and started to increase the number of lengths that I swam by a few more each week.
At the beginning of August I started to go to the pool two or three times a week, supplemented by some strenuous walking when I wasn’t able to get. By the end of August I was confidently swimming the mile in about 53 minutes.
Friends and work colleagues thought that I was absolutely raving bonkers for wanting to take part in the Swim and kept reminding me that there was a considerable difference between swimming in a warm chlorinated pool, which is three or four feet deep and can be exited at any time, and swimming in the middle of a cold lake with blue-green algae, duck poo and which is a few hundred feet deep without the convenience of some steps only a few feet away if you need to get out. Although I ignored them I still had my own doubts!
I bought a wetsuit the week before the event and decided to wear spectacles for the swim as I am so short-sighted that I had this image of my swimming alone up the length of the lake rather than across it! So the evening before I made sure that everything I needed, including the start instructions, some old spectacles and a towel, were packed in a sports bag.
I left home at 8.30am with my wife and daughter to get to Ambleside around 10.45, where the roads were very busy with long queues to the event, but I parked easily and quickly in the main car park at Ambleside and walked the half mile to the event site.
"I felt a real sense of achievement – for the first time in my life, I am now an athlete!"
On the walk from Ambleside we passed the half-way point and I could see little bunches of coloured swim-hats in the water. I could also see the start point across the bay – it seemed like such a long way and all the doubts swept back into my head.
It was good that we had time to take in the atmosphere and watch the whole of the elite ladies and men’s competitions, which included some of the recent Beijing Olympics team.
In my fetching blue and black wetsuit and my fluorescent green swim hat I knew that I looked a right sight because my daughter took some photos, which were the cause of some amusement later in the day.
Ten minutes before the start I joined the 200 other swimmers in my group – the Fluoro-Green Wave – to take our first dip. God, was that water cold!
When we got going for real, the water seemed even colder than it had been a few minutes before, but I started swimming. I immediately noticed that the wetsuit gave me some additional buoyancy and I was higher up in the water than usual but it also seemed to be dragging me back and I felt as though I wasn’t actually moving forward. This was compounded because there were no close reference points, unlike the nice warm pool that I had practised in, where I could see the tiles passing beneath me and the pool edge getting closer.
But I kept swimming and even overtook a few other swimmers; perhaps I had been too cautious in putting myself right at the back. Some were struggling and changing strokes every few minutes, while two girls continued a conversation that they had started before they got into the water!
I inevitably swallowed some water and was surprised that it had an oily taste, but perhaps I shouldn’t have been so surprised bearing in mind the number of diesel engines in the boats on the lake.
About 15 minutes in and I was really feeling the cold in my hands, arms and feet. It crossed my mind that all I had to do was tread water, put one of my cold hands up in the air and one of the many support boats would have picked me up – but I kept going.
I reached the half way point, where you briefly had to leave the water, pass an automatic electronic chip timing point and walk back into the lake. Standing up and then walking on the stones and pebbles that formed the lake bed and shore was really painful and slow in cold bare feet, but I got back into the water. There were now no negative doubting thoughts, I was going to complete this swim.
I continued swimming and I could now see the exit point through my wet spectacles. Eventually I reached it and was helped out of the water on to a launch ramp with only a walk over the grass to the official end-timing gantry.
I didn’t notice the commentator as I walked up the grass until I heard someone ask me “Where did you hide the glasses”. I replied that I had worn them. He asked my name and then announced it to the crowd – how embarrassing!
But I didn’t mind as I had finished, and I felt a real sense of achievement.
My official time was 50 minutes, which is slightly less than I had been doing it in the pool – and
I was by no means the slowest.
But uniquely, for the first time in my life, I am now an athlete!