out in the wilderness (part two)

When I titled this post 'out in the wilderness' it wasn't a reference to Windermere or the Dart 10k or open water swimming at all. Oh no. I was talking allegorically about a place where I found myself.

Perfect conditions at Totnes for the start of the Dart 10k

Naturally this is a place you can swim to.

Two weeks after Windermere came the Dart 10k (Jewel in the crown of the OSS), so called because it takes place in the river Dart between two points separated by a distance of 10 kilometres.

It's tidally assisted. This means that when the tide goes right out a fair proportion of the water in the river gushes out into the estuary, taking with it everyone who happens to be floating (or swimming, or whatever) in that water.

Unless, of course, you swim like I do and trying to go faster actually nearly makes you go backwards.

Anyway. A couple of sentences about the OSS or Outdoor Swimming Society. A group dedicated to promoting everything outdoor and swim related. With an old fashioned sounding name. Capable, too, of dividing opinion in OW circles.

Some season ticket holders at Parliament Hill Lido blame them for the increase in 'fair weather swimmers', who clutter up our pool on days when we should have it to ourselves. On the other hand, I, and others like me have met loads of lovely people and received huge encouragement through the OSS 'December Dip' and Facebook page

Last outing for these bad boys

Founded by a blonde lady called Kate Rew. A person who I have never heard say anything nasty about anyone said he didn't like her.  I didn't bother to ask him why.

My mother always told me that people would be the way I found them to be. My mum always was and continues to be a very canny lady.

I took my flip flops off next to Kate as I was getting into the water at Dittisham. She very kindly ran them over to my car in the far corner of the massive car park and there they were waiting for me on my return many hours later, poking out from underneath the car.

My friend Jez, however, was not so lucky with his flip flops. I am though, about 98% certain that Kate Rew had nothing to do with the disappearance of his brand new Havaianas, and their apparent substitution with the manky old trio pictured just here.

Clearly still not committed to my pre channel winter training schedule, I have been finding long swims to do each week as a justification to keep me out of the pool. Even the stunning PHL hasn't  been able to tempt me back.

Apropos of which, last week I drove to Brighton to meet Simon, another channel aspirant (a good swimmer though), to do a swim with him, from the peace statue in Hove, under two piers to Brighton Marina and back, known as the Mark Radcliffe 10k. Mark says it isn't his 10k, but it's too late to change the name now.

The pier is a bloody long way from the Marina

When I say swim it with Simon, it's true we were in the same stretch of water at the same time. But he was miles in front of me almost from the start. He was kind enough to stop and wait several times, but I think he was getting a bit cold, bless him. in the end he took off.

I caught up with him sitting on the beach at the Marina wall chomping  cashew nuts.

Saw him again some hours later waiting for me to give him a lift back to his car.

Every swimmer (I suppose and gather) has a swim every now and then they would like to forget.

One where you feel like you're sinking, can't find a rhythm, can't breathe properly, you talk yorself into aches and pains, you can't remember how to swim. Right from the start you suspect that you will never finish. You may even wonder why you are doing it at all.

The Marina is a bloody long way from the Peace Statue.

The Mark Radcliffe 10K was a little bit like this. More so the Votwo 10k at Eton the week before, propping up the back of a weak field, whom I might have seen disappear from view if only I could sight and swim at the same time. The Dart 10k the week before that and so on. 

The only comfort to be taken is that I ground every one of those swims out and didn't give up. But as long a swim as any of these last 8 or 9 have been, they all are dwarfed by the English Channel.

Having swum all the way out into the the wilderness, my best hope is that some small part of me remembers what I love about water and I can swim back some time before June.













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Last year I swam one 10k race at Eton Dorney and I still maintain that it very nearly finished me