I’ve never done a “best of” despite having many favourite things, things I’m trying, and places I’m exploring. I also like the idea of giving kudos just because, and because sharing is caring in the real world and the world of open water swimming. I realize that it’s March and awards season is pretty much over, but credit where credit is due can and should be given no matter the season. If you read all the way to the end, you’ll find another reason why I’m in the mood for caring and sharing. (Whee!)
Best Swim of 2024
My best swim was Juneās Around Coronado Island, supported by Dan Simonelli and Summer Wesson. It was my first big real ocean swim, and it tested my ability to set my (shark) fears aside and just swim. At night! In the open ocean! San Diego means a lot to me, and I had a great time during my visit. Danās guidance before and during the swim makes this one you donāt want to miss. Swimming into the San Diego sunrise…..I’d totally do it again.
Best Race
Itās a toss-up. I had such a blast with my BC swimming community in the Across the Lake Swim Series, which takes place from July – September. Last summer I swam the Rattlesnake Island 7 km, Kalmalka Lake 4.5 km, the Skaha Lake 11.8 km, and the Gellatly Bay 5 km. My favourite? It has to be Skaha, because I love this distance, this lake, and I swam a really good swim with top-notch support. This year the ATLS is adding more swims In Osoyoos and Shuswap Lake, plus a 10 km Kalmalka event to get excited about – check it out and if you want a discount code, Iām your gal. HMU. You can also camp in my yard. Well, maybe not for the whole summer.
Best Goggles
As a long-time Speedo Vanquisher wearer, I didnāt think Iād ever switch to another brand. The little nosepieces can be fiddly and dig into the sides of my schnoz though, so I sought out a new style with a larger eye frame and moulded bridge. I settled on the Roka R1, and bought both the clear (for night) and the cobalt mirror (for sunshiny days). I use them in the pool and the open water, interchangeably. I noticed an improvement in comfort right away, and I really like the slightly wider lens and how they donāt fog, as long as I give them a regular wash with dish soap. I still get the post-swim goggle-eyes, but Iāve sort of accepted that goggle-eyes are par for the (long) course and make me look wise like an owl.
Best Swimsuit
Swimmers, bathers, cossie, banana hammock (for dudes) – not the bane of my existence, but certainly necessary if you want to participate in family-friendly daytime events and not scare children, lifeguards, or people relaxing on their docks. I wore Q Swimwear exclusively for several years, and I love the extensive and fun selection of patterns and designs they offer. Then I decided that maybe half my bum hanging out would be acceptable (to most people), and I ventured into the colourful world of Jolyn. I liked both the āBrandonā and the āDevonā which come in size 38 and offer that partial coverage that is becoming of a woman of my vintage. I recently upgraded to the āCarolineā, which is my favourite suit ever. It contains my bosoms while still fitting a little high-cut, and I am the toast of the hot tub. Theyāre pricey and they no longer have a Canadian website, but damn I love this brand. I bought a bikini too, a black one – but I only wear it while drinking Aperol Spritzes in Rapperswil, darling.
In the interest of buying Canadian (for reasons that must be obvious), I searched far and wide for a Canadian swimsuit company and was introduced to Rise Swimsuits out of Vancouver, BC. I love their enthusiastic support of women in open water, and I love their bright and vibrant designs. With some very helpful Instagram chat assistance for sizing, I ordered 3 suits that are on their way to me now!
Best Hair & Body Products
I like Malibu Swimmer’s Wellness because it smells like blue lemonade Koolaid, the bottle reminds me of the hand weights in Olivia Newton John’s “Let’s Get Physical” video, and it makes my hair feel soft and shiny. It really does!
To keep dry skin at bay, as much as possible for someone whose gills close if they’re out of the water too long, I love Palmer’s Cocoa Butter Formula. The chocolatey scent lasts all day and it’s a pleasure to slather.
And again, I’d appreciate any Canadian-made suggestions for hair and body.
Best Underwater MP3 Player
After years of allegiance to the Finis Duo, I switched to the Shokz Open Swim and have been in love with this light and durable little headset ever since. It fits behind the ears and wraps around my head, under my swim cap. I load it up with songs each season in an ever-evolving playlist that powers my pool workouts and the occasional open-water swim (always when accompanied by a paddler – safety first!). I build a playlist in Spotify, and then use a YouTube to MP3 converter to save the file to my laptop. Once I have the file, I just transfer it over to the Shokz when they’re connected to the laptop via USB. It does take some time, but it’s one of those little swim rituals that help to keep my head in the game. I like it better than a pesky beeping timer for setting my pace, and I like that the battery lasts the 9 hours it promises. I never use the Bluetooth function, because what would be the point underwater? I used to hate that it wouldn’t shuffle, but I’ve turned that frown upside down by using the playlist as a memorization tool that comes in very handy during long swims where there is no music except in my head.
Best Nutrition
I finally sorted out my feeds last year after ten years of entertaining vomits. I tried everything from maple syrup to Eye of Newt, and the only stuff thatās worked for me is UCanās Energy in Cocoa Delite. Please UCan, if youāre listening – never stop making this flavour.
And bananas. Long live the banana.
Best Learning Experience
My weekend swimming with Dover Channel Training last July wins top prize for teaching me so much about what it would take to swim the Channel. I showed up not knowing quite what to expect and expecting to shame myself by barfing in front of the polite and cultured English people. Thanks to the wonderful Emma France, I discovered UCan and then had two awesome days and twelve hours of swimming circles in Dover Harbour with other English Channel hopefuls and luminaries. Even though the weather thwarted my plan to swim in September, I was totally prepared and a key part of that prep was the weekend I spent with DCT.
Best Surprise of 2025 (so far)
Saving the best for last, as is my practice. I’ve got an English Channel slot for 2025! My new window is July 1-10, so I’ll be hopping back on the Dovercoaster once again for what promises to be another thrilling ride. More on that and how it happened COMING SOON in an upcoming post. Whee!
Today marks the first day of September, in the year 2024.
My 50th birthday is in 14 days.
My English Channel swim window opens in 22 days.
But before we get into all of that, what a summer! Summer, you were sure something. I had so many brilliant swim experiences in July and August that it is hard to imagine that September will take the cake. A recap is in order, so here we go….
Just a girl in Dover.
In July I hopped across the pond to undertake a weekend of salty swims with Dover Channel Training. When I learned about the opportunity to get some actual Channel experience with a group that has supported so many swimmers, I had to sign up. While I’ve spent a lot of time in the UK, I’d never been to Dover and was keen to get a sense of the situation. I travelled from London and became more and more excited as I saw the coastal views out the window of the train, Smalltown Boy by Bronski Beat playing loud in my headphones. I stayed in a cute and cozy little place near Churchill House, where my crew and I will stay later this month. With a mere 10 minute walk to Dover Harbour, it was the perfect location to suss out places to get food, replenish supplies, and, of course, drink beer. The iconic White Horse pub was right across the street from my digs, so I strolled over for some Channel inspiration. The walls and ceiling of the pub are covered with years of Sharpie’d accounts of Channel swims. Walking from room to room, you can look up and see the handwriting of many a swimming legend, and I spotted autographs from Sarah Thomas, Martyn Webster, The Crazy Canucks, Sally Minty-Gravett, and my own coach, Brent Hobbs! I’d heard that the new owners no longer allow swimmers to write on the walls, but the barmaid assured me that indeed they do. I may have even scoped out a spot for my future self.
My Dover weekend plan called for two five hour swims back to back. Part of the deal is that the DCT team provides hourly feeds, and I was eager to see if their offerings might solve my ongoing challenge with nausea. I told Emma about my “issues”, and she suggested UCan, a cornstarch-based product that a good old Dad invented for his daughter who suffered from stomach issues. Eager to test it, I started my swim with around twenty other Channel hopefuls. We swam laps around Dover Harbour, which on that day offered a mix of conditions ranging from wind and waves to blindingly bright sunlight. The laps are approximately two km and while they don’t actually take you into the actual Channel, they do give you a chance to taste that famous salty water, and soak up the vibes. My first hourly UCan feed went well. It was a slightly chalky, less sweet chocolatey flavour, served warm. It stayed down and filled me up. The second feed was blackcurrant squash. Yum. The third feed was UCan. After three hours of slaying the chop and waves, I had fully expected to blow my cookies. But I didn’t. It stayed down and I kept swimming. At the five hour mark I was supposed to stop for the day, but I felt so good and strong with actual calories in my body that I decided to keep going and swim the full seven. Not a single barf exploded from my mouth. I don’t think I even burped. All that happened was that my smile grew and grew like the Grinch’s heart, as I realized that I might have (gasp!) found. my. feed! I went back to the b’n b with some pretty major chafing that I didn’t even feel because I was so happy, grabbed some fish and chips, and tucked myself in for the restful sleep I’ve need to do it over again tomorrow.
The next morning I woke up and strolled through town to the harbour for the ten a.m. start. To my surprise, the amazing Sarah Thomas and Neil Hailstone were on the beach, greeting swimmers and soaking up congratulations for Neil’s successful Channel swim earlier in the week. How starstruck was I!? I knew they were in the area from Sarah’s Instagram stories, but I could never have hoped to actually meet her in Dover Harbour, in my bathing suit, covered in Vaseline (me, not her). If you haven’t heard of Sarah Thomas, well, she’s pretty much the most accomplished swimmer of all time. She is the only person to have completed a four-way English Channel, and holds the world record for the longest lake swims in 104 mile Lake Champlain and 80 mile Lake Powell. Meeting her was magic for my heart and my mind, inspiring and timely. I thought, “Here is a person who has done all of these amazing things. And she’s just a person on the same beach as you. And she shook your hand, and your hand was so slimy.” Do yourself a favour, and instead of watching Nyad, watch this. The real deal.
Pinch me
Day two of DCT went just swimmingly, with rain and wind in the mix, no vomits, strong shoulders for five hours, and lots of fun. It was so great to meet this crew and learn from their experiences. I highly recommend that anyone planning a Channel swim should try to invest in a weekend of training. It made a massive difference for my mindset for the upcoming swim. Tasting the Channel – itās frickinā salty, my dude – definitely helped me get in the headspace for the big gulp.
I waved goodbye to jolly England and after some Lufthansa shenanigans, made my way to Zurich via Amsterdam to meet Holger for the second half of my swim vacation. We loved Zurich and the people we met there two years ago for the Lake Zurich Swim, so it seemed a natural place to meet and continue my training. Zurich is a spectacular lake, with so many swimmer’s amenities in the communities that surround it. We did a mix of camping in Rapperswil and luxury bed and breakfasting at the Oberhaus in Feldbach. Reconnecting with legendary swimmer and friend Martyn Webster led to fun swims at the Rapperswil Seebadi, a trip into the mountains seeking cold water in the Klƶnteralsee, and a list of awesome suggestions that were a veritable Swiss scavenger hunt of swimming. Martyn and Cat also had us over for dinner and to watch some Olympic swimming. I swam in a pool in the lake at Sportbad KƤpfnach, communed with the topless at Seebad Utoquai, and set off from the Oberhaus several times with Holger in a rowboat. Is there anything more romantic than a German in a rowboat, safely (backwards) steering you away from ferries and sailboats? I think not. I left Switzerland full of chocolate and cheese, wishing I could live there someday. I also had some great swims and benefited from many conversations with Martyn about everything from nutrition to mileage.
See? A German in a rowboat. With Martyn Webster after 8 cool kms. Sportbad KƤpfnach: a pool in the lake!Just a girl in Zurich.
Back in Canada, I had two days to recover and leverage the jet lag before the first of my Across the Lake Swim Series events: the Rattlesnake Island 7km Swim. Ten years ago my ex-husband tried to run me over with a canoe, last year I bonked, and this year I won a wooden medal for second place in my age category! Things do change!
Around Rattlesnake Island
The following weekend was the Skaha Lake 11.8 km on August 11, and I had another great swim, finishing third in my age group.
Randy, paddler extraordinaire
I swam the Kalmalka Lake 4.5 swim on August 17 and had another third place finish, and then finished second in my age in the Gellatly Bay 5 km swim just yesterday morning on the very last day of August.
Holger with a bronze in his very first open water swim!
Gellatly capped off a month of races that challenged me to continue my focus on the long game, but forced me to bring my competitive spirit to the table and push myself to swim a double on many of those race days, and another long swim the day after. This genius series is one of the best parts about living in BC, and I am proud to be a Swim Squad ambassador. I do love me some Lake Zurich living, but it doesn’t compare to hugging my swim pals, celebrating our results, and supporting one another in our close-knit swimming community five weeks in a row. I’m so grateful to Emily, Randy, and Julian for paddling assistance this summer, and fun times with Elaine, Deb, Dionne, Phred, Brent, Kylie, Sean, Robynne, and so many others.
A Naramata swim with the wonderful Elaine, aka Naramata Blend
If anything, I am most proud that I have mostly stuck to the plan, leading up to my “Peak Week” seven and six hour back to back swims next weekend. And once those are done, the tapering begins. And at the end of the taper is a body of water that I’ve been waiting for, that waits for me and demands that I be ready. And I will be.
š· Elaine Davidson
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Open water swimming brings me incredibly memorable adventures. It also brings me close to my limits from time to time, or at least what I think are my limits. Sometimes, pushing limits and meeting amazing people and having adventures and swimming in cool places all converge, and that’s how last week’s Around Coronado Swim went down.
Earlier this year, I started planning a June work trip to San Diego. Knowing where I’d be in relation to my English Channel training plan, I looked for a local swim that would offer enough distance and some ocean experience. I don’t have many opportunities to train in salt water and ocean conditions, and preparing for the conditions I’ll swim in September is critical to my success. As soon as I googled “San Diego open water” – the answer was there in gleaming, flashing neon lights – the Around Coronado Swim! I scanned the website and found the contact page, and Dan Simonelli, and that’s where this swimming story begins.
My personal San Diego story starts back a little further, 1985 to be exact. My Dad, a high school physical education teacher, settled on San Diego State University as the place where heād do his Masterās degree. So down we drove, from Saskatchewan to California in a 1979 Dodge Aspen with a U-Haul in tow. I was ten, my sister was seven, my parents were in their mid-thirties (omg!) and we were ready for an adventure. We lived in a condo in La Mesa and spent a great deal of time hanging out at San Diegoās beautiful beaches. Keen speed-swimmers, we joined the Heartland Swim Club in El Cajon which became our primary activity and social community. I was too weird and nerdy to fit in at school, but swim clubs are often hubs for misfit children. Much like the way school uniforms create a level playing field, there is equity in the idea of everyone in a Speedo. Thank goodness for that. We had a blast with our lycra-clad swimming family.
We often drove across the tall, statuesque Coronado Bridge to hang out on the Island on the weekends. We couldnāt afford to stay (or even buy a snack) at the famous Hotel Del Coronado, but we did learn how to sneak in and use the bathroom, which is a skill that I’ve continued to leverage to this very day. I’ve peed in some of the world’s most beautiful hotels. Iāve written about some of my formative San Diego experiences here and here. It was quite a time!
Me & My Dad on Coronado Beach, 1985
So yes, San Diego is special to me, and Coronado holds many core memories of my Dad and our year down there. That I would find a swim there at the perfect time and place was pure kismet, so I reached out to Dan and we started to make some plans for a late June window. Dan Simonelli (or, more commonly referred to as Dan SWIMonelli) is a living legend of open water swimming. He’s an accomplished swimmer and coach, and is an inductee Honour Coach to the International Marathon Swimming Hall of Fame. He’s a Carnegie Hero Award winner, an Official Observer for both the World Open Water Swim Association and the Catalina Channel Swimming Federation, and he is a very, very nice guy who took an interest in my challenge and supported me before and during my swim. Throughout the last few months, Dan and I connected about once a month to check in on my tide window and chat about things like nutrition, logistics, etc. He even sorted out my land crew for the finish, so that I’d be greeted on the beach with a towel and a warm drink. He exuded calm and confidence, and I could hardly wait to meet him in person.
June came around, I completed my 6 hour English Channel Qualifier, and I set my sights on Coronado. This swim is a 19 km (12 mile) near-circumnavigation of Coronado Island. It typically starts early in the morning at the Glorietta Bay Boat Launch on the San Diego Harbour side of the island. It finishes on Gator Beach, just beside the US Naval Base. Swimmers are assisted by the flow of an ebb tide for the first two thirds of the swim, under the Coronado Bridge and across from the lights of downtown San Diego, the airport, through the Bay, and then round the Zuniga Jetty to swim in open ocean for the remaining unassisted 5 km. The sun rises just as you’re rounding the top of the island, with Point Loma on your right.
I felt generally very well-prepared physically for this swim. But a few nights before the event, I let my curiosity get the better of me and indulged in some late night googling about the prevalence of creatures that inhabit this region of the Pacific Ocean, namely great white sharks. BAD IDEA. Never do this. For the first time I actually felt fear and trepidation in my stomach about a swim, and it wasn’t just tacos. What would I do in the event of an encounter? How would two paddlers fend off a twenty-foot Megalodon – with their paddles?!? Knowing that the first half of the swim was in the dark, how would I reassure my brain when faced with near blindness? Was I going to freak out? Would I be able to set that scary feeling aside and actually swim? I spoke with my friend Debbie and her (always) sage advice was to just “have the freak out and carry on.” She’s swum the Catalina Channel and survived and she’s one brave lady. Holger (my ever so practical boyfriend) advised me to abandon plans to wear my bright pink swimsuit in favour of the blue one, so I’d blend in better, and anything or anyone lurking below would maybe not notice me and mistake me for a tasty harbour seal. I do sort of resemble a tasty harbour seal no matter what colour my bathing suit is, but I was grateful for his advice, as always. I even swapped out my feeding strategy at the last minute to a minimal version that I hoped would lessen the likelihood of blowing chum-like chunks that would attract the creatures of the deep. But yeah, I was freaking out.
I was due to meet Dan and the other support kayaker, Summer Wesson, at the Glorietta Bay Boat Launch at 3 am. I’d booked an Uber from my downtown hotel to pick me up at 2:30 am, so I arrived a little earlier than Dan and Summer and I strolled around trying to calm my nerves, stretch, and visualize a successful and brave swim. When they arrived, we made quick and friendly introductions, went through the feeding and safety plan, and I signed the waiver/my life away to the fate of the ocean. Summer had literally just hours earlier returned from a swim around the Florida Keys. She also recently completed the first 2-way swim between Isla Mujeres and the Mexican mainland. I was honoured to be in such impressive company. The Around Coronado Swim is a sanctioned event with the Marathon Swimmer’s Foundation, so Dan’s role would be as official observer, rule-enforcer, and photographer. Summer would handle feeds. They’d flank me on either side. In order to make the most of the tide, we had to start at 3 am sharp. I greased up with Desitin and lanolin, took an anti-nauseant pill, affixed a light to my goggles, and stood on the shore waiting for Dan’s official countdown.
Dan gave the signal and I waded into the dark water, put my face in, located the bright green and red lights of Summer’s kayak, and started to swim. I could almost immediately feel the pull of the ebb tide as we headed toward the bridge. My eyes adjusted to the total darkness but I couldn’t see my hands entering the water, nor my arm pulling through. I noticed the briny taste and immediate softness and buoyancy of the water – so different than swimming in the lake. After a while, I could see the bright, sparkly lights of San Diego on my right, and the bridge above me. I started to relax, and I started to have fun.
Summer’s in the kayak, and that little red light in the water is me. It’s me!
Iāve always enjoyed night swimming, and this was no exception. Itās such a thrill to move through the water in the absence of light, knowing that thereās a whole other world below you. Itās just you – your body moving in the water at the darkest, quietest possible time. Of course, I wasnāt alone and my feeds (and conversations) with Summer and Dan started at 30 mins in and every 30 mins thereafter. We passed many boats in the harbour, and I wondered about the people peacefully snoozing in their cabins while I swam past. Soon enough I was swimming past the North Island’s Naval Air Station on my left, and then the San Diego airport on my right. Currents of varying levels of warmth and coldness passed over me and through me in every direction, and the thought occurred to me that I was swimming through stripes. I think night swimming heightens the awareness of the body, since hearing and sight are limited, and the weightlessness makes you very aware of sensations like different temperatures.
I wanted to try a very minimal feeding strategy for this swim, with a maximum of 250 calories and 30 grams of carbs per hour. Gels are the easiest way to accomplish this, and I was loaded up with a bunch of different varieties since I didnāt know what I could tolerate in the salt water. Iād planned to try S Fuels Race + again but had some flashbacks of projectile vomiting in Zurich as soon as I opened the packet to mix it in the hotel. Danās advice, knowing my proclivity for puking, was āhydration over caloriesā, and this was definitely successful for the first half of the swim. At each feed I drank about 200 ml of fresh water, which I looked forward to as much as the feeds. The mildly flavoured Maurten gels went down well, and I wasnāt hungry or full. Just thrilled.
A fine line of daybreak started to rise on the horizon as we were approaching Point Loma and the left turn around the jetty. and the movement of the water began to change. The current that had scooted me from the bay mellowed out, replaced by the more typical ocean swells. The light changed so much and so slowly, and I could see Summer and Dan during feeds. I adjusted to the different conditions and wondered if the twinge of nausea would go away or get worse. With the twinge of nausea came the standard feeling of not feeling so well at all, so I keep my head down and observed the developing discomfort. Iād packed a pumpkin puree packet (say that 5 times fast) and hoped that the purported claims of settling the stomach were true. They might have been, but the rank, bland taste of pumpkin in a big glob in my mouth nearly triggered the barf. At this point, the salt water also started to really bother me, and I knew it wouldnāt be long before Iād produce a bucket of chum. An accidental gulp of water was the catalyst I was waiting for. And out it all came, in 2 glorious underwater exorcisms. Iāve honed my barfing technique so as not to totally gross out my support folks, but Dan and Summer were so kind and understanding, assuring me theyād seen it all before.
My next 2 feeds were water and then water and a banana, as I regained strength and began to enjoy myself again. We passed a buoy covered in honking pelicans and bellowing sea lions – even a baby one – adding to the thrill of the swim.
With feeds back on track, I carried on as the sun rose higher in the sky. Having rounded the jetty, the other side of the island, with Coronado Beach, the Hotel Del Coronado, and the Silver Strand State Beach was on our left. We were far enough out and I was deep in my mode without any idea how much further I had to go, in that common “zone out” that happens during long swims. At some point I asked and was told about an hour, so I made a point of enjoying every last minute and second of that hour. My shoulders felt strong and while I was constantly thirsty, the nausea completely subsided. I started to imagine the frozen Pina Coladas in my future at the same time as not wanting the swim to end. I wondered what would happen if I turned around and just started swimming back the other way, but I didn’t mention this idea to Summer or Dan. I think I’ll save it for the next time I do the swim.
The end is near! Moving toward the finish.
Dan had given me detailed instructions for landing on the beach, including torpedoing under the waves so I wouldn’t get somersaulted underwater, and also to shuffle my feet before running on to the beach so that some scary sand dwelling stingray wouldn’t eat me. Or something like that. He also said that I shouldn’t sneak into the Hotel Del Coronado for a pee, so I peed one last time in the ocean. Gator Beach got closer and closer and finally I was bodysurfing a wave into the shore. I gave Dan a wave and a quick shimmy, as one does, and the swim was complete in 5 hours and 26 minutes. I had a party of 2 – swimmer Jeff Breen and his brother – waiting for me with a towel and a warm peppermint tea. They’d agreed to be my land crew while Dan and Summer witnessed the finish and paddled the kayaks in. Jeff would swim his Around Coronado Swim less than 24 hours later. It was great to celebrate with him and chat about his experiences in the Catalina and Monterey Channels.
What a crew! From left: Jeff, Summer, Aerin and Dan.
I basked in a warm glow of exhaustion, relief, and happiness, poolside, for the rest of the day. I basked in the knowledge that I was the first ever Canadian to do this swim! I also basked in the glow of more than one frozen Pina Colada, but who’s counting? The Around Coronado Swim is a really excellent experience, thanks particularly to Dan’s guidance and support before, during, and after. It’s a beautiful, unique swim in an iconic place that now means even more to me than it did before. I’ll never forget it, and I’ll probably be back for another tour around the Island some day. There’s just this pesky Channel swim to get through first…….so it’s back to training. Wonder where I’ll pop up next? Stay tuned!
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This post has percolated for a long, long time. Months even! And not just because the name is so fucking long! The swim was long, too. The longest I’ve ever swam!
I successfully completed the Sri Chinmoy 26 km Marathon Swim in Lake Zurich on August 7, 2022. I realize that we are well into 2023, but life happens in the meantime. This is my account/recollection of the event from start to finish.
I’ve spared no gory details, but let’s be honest, those details are what you really want to read, especially if you’re a swimmer considering doing this swim. And you should. It’s a beautiful swim and an incredible experience in an unforgettable location, and there is nothing quite like coming across that finish line and bowing your head to be presented with a beautiful flower lei.
I applied unsuccessfully for the 2019 swim. It hurt my feelings at the time, but with hindsight I realize that I did need to get more training and longer swims under my belt. I applied for 2020 and was thrilled (and terrified) to be accepted. Then a stupid pandemic happened, and it was certain that I would not travel to Switzerland that August. Nor the following August. The organizers were fabulous and provided deferrals, so the goal continued to loom large in my mind. In the meantime, I swam a lot – achieving the first documented length-wise swim of Christina Lake and a bunch more +10km and + 6-hour events. I started dreaming of other BIG SWIMS, and trained my ass off, until finally the swim was only weeks away.
I have a relatively intense job and travel extensively for work, and I knew I’d be in the UK for meetings in the weeks prior to the event. Combining work travel with consistent training is always a challenge, but one that I relish because I’m an obsessive planner and organizer – a human border collie really, and there’s nothing I enjoy more than logistics! I was grateful to log early morning workouts at the pool at the Marlborough School, just a short walk away from the AM head office. I connected with Swim Oxford and organized a 10km private Lock to Lock Swim (thanks Darren) in the Thames – you can read all about it here. Then it was back to London, where I visited many of my favourite lidos and prepared for my version of a taper/sharpening.
Photo credit Darren Roles, Swim OxfordParliament Hill Lido, London
Before heading to Zurich, I hopped on the Eurostar and spent 5 glorious days in Annecy, France. This beautiful blue lake was the perfect choice for a few long and leisurely swims, and the historic town centre was scenic and gorgeous (and yes, touristy) and bathed daily in the most glorious golden light. The food of the Haute Savoir region of France is cheese-heavy and I did not abstain from filling my face at the Saturday market, which happened almost right outside my accommodation. To counter the constant inbound flow of fromage, I rented a bicycle every day and rode to many beaches that encircle the lake. Lac D’Annecy is the third largest lake in France (14.7 km) and has its own annual swimming event, and I have pledged a return to these beautiful waters.
A fish needs a bicycle.Golden Hour in AnnecyThe bluest lake in all of France. All of France!
I bid “adieu” to Annecy and travelled onward to meet Holger, meine Liebe and enlisted swim support person in Zurich. The Sri Chinmoy organizers provided many suggestions for accommodations, and I settled on the B & B Oberhaushof in Feldbach, one of the wee towns that encircle Lake Zurich. The Oberhaus has been owned by the same family for 250 years and offers direct access to the lake, the most amazing breakfasts ever, and unrivalled hospitality from proprietors Stefan and Maja Buhler. They are, quite simply, the best. The property is a working organic farm, and also includes an exhibit where guests can “immerse themselves in the history of the house.” I couldn’t believe my luck, especially when shown the Etzel Room, where Holger and I would spend several magical days leading up to the swim (and one on the way back after our subsequent bike trip). You can see Rapperswil Castle from the Oberhaus. You can also swim 2 km directly over to the Seebad (Schlossbadi) Rapperswil. So we did, a few times. Itās the end of the paragraph, but Iām compelled to mention the Oberhaus breakfasts again. š
The Oberhaus in Feldbach
Holger traveled from Leipzig by train and bike to meet me, and I’d rented a bike from Bike Switzerland for our Zurich days and the cycling trip to follow the swim. Having 2 wheels was an excellent way to explore our surroundings and provided easy access to Rapperswill on the lake’s northern tip. The Rapperswil Schossbadi is the start of the swim – and also a great place to chill out and meet new friends like ultra-swimmer Martyn Webster and his wife Cat. I’d connected with Martyn prior to heading to Zurich after following his epic achievements for quite some time. He was extremely generous with his support and advice, even lending me a cooler to keep my fuel cold during the swim. Martyn has accomplished a great deal in open water swimming, and accomplished his own version of the Lake Zurich swim – in the opposite direction and then beyond – the day before the official race. Our conversations with Martyn, over beer and delicious Flammkuchen, were invaluable in helping us understand the support boat system, the water conditions, and other things to expect during the event. The support boats (which you pay for in advance of the swim) are powered by local volunteers. You don’t know what sort of boat you might get until the morning of the swim, and it can range from open rowboats to fully powered miniature yachts (this is Zurich, after all). You can also bring your own kayak and paddler, which many swimmers opt to do since it ensures greater control over the line you will swim.
A note on nutrition here. Fueling strategy is a key part of any long-distance swim and an area of struggle since I started swimming long enough distances to require feeds. I’ve experienced issues with nausea and vomiting (charming, I know) during the last few years, particularly around the 5-6 hour mark, at which point my body tends to violently reject everything I’ve put inside it. There have been some legendary hurls, attempts at using anti-nauseant medications, and endless experimentation with different fuels. I’m sponsored by Hammer Nutrition and love their HEED electrolyte drink but puke up Perpetuem, their endurance fuel. I’ve tried to make the switch to SFuels, which is lower in carbohydrates and supports the body slightly differently. I’ve studied endless literature and experimented with maple syrup, energy bars, gels, sandwiches, chocolate bars….. you name it. In any case, I was prepared to swim this swim using HEED electrolytes, SFuels Train and Race+, Snickers bars and water. My pre-race prep involved labelling bottles and rehearsing feeds so that Holger would know what to throw to me, and on what intervals. He’s a German so usually he just feeds me cheese and bread. More on that later.
On the day before the race, I swam, cycled, relaxed, and visualized, listening to my motivation playlist. I attended the pre-race meeting and tried to ingest and internalize the instructions. Still, I was very glad to have Holger there to keep track of details, including the mandatory cut-off points and emergency procedures, while my mind was on other things. After a relaxing dinner prepared in the āwash houseā kitchen in the Oberhaus, packed everything we needed for the boat and the swim and went to bed early with our alarms set for 5:30 am to catch the train to Rapperswill.
Thinking about swimming and cheese.
The next morning we woke to cloudy skies and drizzling rain, as per the forecast. Arriving at the Seebadi, we found muesli and cake, coffee and tea, and 100 swimmers and supporters stretching and milling around. We connected with the support boat pilot (I can’t remember his name), greased up, took some photos, went pee eighteen times, and went through visualizations again and again. Holger wished me luck and went to find our boat – I would not see him again until the swim was underway. All swimmers entered the water and waited for the official start. This is all a memory blur of nerves and emotions to me now, but I remember feeling well-fed, hydrated, and ready to swim, if a little bit intimidated. My goal for this swim had always been to finish since it’s sort of my gateway to even longer swims that I plan to attempt in the future.
Do I look worried? I was worried.
Hours 1-4
And then we started, and I found Holger and the boat. It was an open boat with a small outboard motor, adorned with our number (W1), some balloons, and a very handsome German sitting in the bow. Meeting up with your boat is always a huge relief during long swims. The boat and your support person are your lifelines, information source, and fountain of motivation. They also control the snacks, so you have to be nice to them. I swam alongside the boat for a good hour, feeling mostly fine. It was too early to determine how I measured up to the other swimmers, so I swam comfortably and started feeds about an hour in. During one stop, Holger let me know that our captain wanted to take a detour to his house (?) to get a better jacket. He assured me another boat would monitor me while they quickly zipped out and back. I was surprised and a bit taken aback – but I didn’t kick up a fuss. I treaded water for a few minutes while the other boat came up and kept swimming. When Holger and the captain returned, all went normally for 2 or 3 hours. Then the boat sputtered and stopped. The driver was able to get it going, but it wasn’t long before it shuddered and quit. I missed the entire conversation since I was swimming, but Holger later told me he’d had strong words – in German! Yikes!- with our young captain, who seemed completely overwhelmed and didn’t know what to do. Holger demanded that he make a call and get another boat to come. By this time, I was aware of the problem and waited for the next support boat to arrive. I don’t know how long it took, but eventually my second support boat arrived, they moved Holger and all of our supplies over, and I started swimming again. Goodbye, first captain, I hardly knew ye.
Hours 4-9
Boat #2 captained me for the next 4ish hours. Swimming for long stretches impacts your perception of time, so my recollection could be slightly off. My feeds generally went well, and we were sticking to the plan. I had SFuels Train, HEED Electrolytes, water, and Snickers bars. I had Ondasetron for nausea. I knew I was quite far back in the pack, but I was still occasionally passing other swimmers, swimming beside other swimmers for a while, and getting passed by other swimmers. Lake Zurich has no shortage of interesting landmarks to swim past, plus the water was temperate and clear despite the increasing amount of wind, waves and chop. This is just the flow of the swim, and sometimes the flow is against you. It does not help to worry about it or despair about making time or to let my competitive nature take over. In fact, one of the key reasons why I swim is to temper this tendency upon which my career relies, but doesnāt serve me in other areas of my life. What matters is keeping pace, swimming strong, paying attention to my body and thoughts, and remaining connected to my support person. I’ve been lucky to swim with excellent supporters, and Holger is no exception. His calm demeanour, warm smile, and German adherence to process make him an excellent partner and support person. We have had many backcountry adventures where things like nature peeing and tent farting are no big deal. But this swim was the first time he had the great pleasure of watching a full-on vomit come out of my mouth. Yes – nausea struck again, and I spent some time hurling (elegantly) before I was good to go again. I hope this wasn’t when we passed Tina Turner’s house.
The second boat captain appeared to be a no-nonsense type of person, so when I was waved over after a feed, I was concerned to see the concern on both his and Holger’s faces. They told me there was a very real risk that I would not make the cut-off at Meilin, which would effectively pull me out of the race. This information caught me by surprise. The conditions were tough, but I’d thought that my pace was sufficient to get me through the first 13 km in plenty of time. Through all of the planning and safety meetings, I never worried about swimming fast enough. I felt a pang of despair and panic. The delays caused by the boat shenanigans had cost me time that I now had to make up. There was no time to waste. I knew I’d have to increase my pace, shorten my feeds, and spend less time enjoying the scenery. As much as I always seem like I’m in a rush, I don’t actually like to be hurried, and I HATE being late. With the big Meilin church in sight, I kicked it up a solid notch and powered onward.
Hours 9-12
The next few hours went by in a blur. Nobody pulled me out of the water. I mostly consumed electrolytes and water during my feeds since the SFuels just wouldn’t stay down. The conditions didn’t let up, and I felt the exertion in my body and mind. I barely remember this section of the swim as hyperfocus took over and it was just stroke after stroke, head down and moving forward. I continued to swim, and when I looked up I was convinced that Justin Trudeau was in the support boat next to me. Was I hallucinating? At my next feed, Holger told me that there was indeed a new boat and a new boat captain, and he was not Justin Trudeau. Third boat lucky? I hoped so! The second boat had also broken down so they called in another reinforcement. I was so focused on swimming that I hadn’t noticed any of this going on – only a brief acknowledgment in my limbic brain that a handsome, dark-haired man was now driving the boat. Best of all, they told me that I had made the subsequent Kusnachter Horn cutoff and I was going to finish the swim. In fact, I had only 4kms to go – just another hour of swimming. This news gave me great joy and also the motivation to turbocharge the effort of the last section. I declined any further feeds and decided that whatever meagre calories or fumes remaining in my body would have to suffice.
Coming in hot. (Not Justin Trudeau in the boat.)
Again, a blur of an hour that I have difficulty recollecting, and then the end was actually in sight! Holger and the boat captain (not Justin Trudeau) waved goodbye and it was just me swimming into the finish. I knew from watching previous years’ event videos that there would very likely be an interview right at the finish line. I hoped I’d get a flower lei. I hoped I would be able to right myself in order to climb up the steps. This is a legitimate fear. Whether running toward the shore, clambering up a ramp, or climbing stairs, being horizontal for 11 hours poses a challenge to your brain. Knowing it’s being recorded and captured for time immortal is daunting when you are legitimately not sure what your body will do. Thankfully, mine cooperated one last time (thanks, Body!!) and I made it up the stairs to be greeted by very friendly volunteers who put a flower lei over my head and shoved a microphone into my face. They commented that I looked very strong and asked me some questions that I don’t remember. They put a medal around my neck. I was done. I did it. It was over! 26 km from Rapperswill to Zurich by the skin of my birthday suit, but I’d done it and now I could go and projectile barf all over the men’s changeroom in the park (couldn’t find the women’s). I am very, very sorry to whoever might have come across the grisly scene, but I did my best to hide the evidence and returned to the finishing area to celebrate the incoming swimmers and watch the awards. So many amazing, inspiring swimmers. I am honoured to have shared the water with them!
It’s incredible how quickly you switch gears after the extended sensory deprivation of a marathon swim. I hugged Holger (who was already on his third plate of food), chatted with Martyn, posed for photos with a Canadian flag, ate something (not sure what), and congratulated other swimmers – some of whom I’d followed and fangirled on the ‘Gram. Of course, I was interested in my stats. I’d swam the second half faster than the first, thanks to the Meilin cutoff scare. I’d finished in 11 hours and 25 minutes – much slower than I hoped, but still below my goal of 12 hours. I’d done everything I could to prepare feeds that wouldn’t make me sick, but had thrown it all up anyways. As with every swim, there are hard lessons, well-fought wins, and so much gratitude. I am grateful for a partner who is willing to pee into a bottle for nearly 12 hours so that I can chase my dreams, and then give me a smooch after he’s seen me empty my guts. I’m grateful for people like Martyn who share their wisdom and experience, contributing so much to this awesome community of athletes. I’m grateful to the people who sent texts for Holger to read to me during feeds, because every positive message was like a little current in my favour. I’m grateful to the volunteers and the local community, boat captains and all, who make this event so very special. It’s really one of the life-changing ones….believe the hype. Maybe I’ll do it again some day. Anyone want to paddle? š
Iāve had so many swimblogging false starts lately. Iāve written half-finished product reviews for everything from suits, haircare for habitual chlorine offenders, and swimming MP3 players . I’ve thought about writing about my nutritional challenges during long events and long training sessions. And I thought about writing about recovery from injury after going through some shoulder struggles a short while ago. None of these topics really seemed to light me up, but I did do something cool on July 10, and I thought you should know about it.
After 2 long years of Covid cancellations, the Portland Bridge Swim was finally a GO! I signed up for the 2020 edition of this unique event way back in 2019 when the Earth was green and the dinosaurs roamed, and there was no global plague to mess everything up. The concept: swim the 12 bridges of the Willamette River right through urban Portland, Oregon, with a healthy current assist and an official US Master’s Swimming Association designation. 11.8 miles (roughly 19-20km) of torpedo-ing next to BIG boats, with 99 other swimmers. A Portland getaway, with all the requisite donuts and food carts and craft beer….who wouldn’t be tempted?
I had been in the Willamette River back in 2013, when I attended the World Domination Summit (that’s DOMINATION, not DOMINATRIX, as had to be clarified to border officials). The conference has become known for it’s unconventional approach, and each year they attempt to break a world record. The record in question was the longest human chain on water, so everyone who attended the conference was outfitted with a colourful inner tube. On the day of the attempt, everyone got into the river, sat in their floaty tube, and held hands while the official Guinness People did their count on jet skis. So really, just my butt was in the water, but the end result was something epic. Much like the Bridge Swim, really.
So, the plan was to swim in 2020, and I don’t need to tell you what happened. Cancelled. 2021 – cancelled again. For 2 years the organizers kept swimmers in the loop, and one day the call was made – 2022 was on! This would be my first “official” event since the virus swept the world, and I was thrilled to ramp up my training and activate my support crew. What began as a plan for a quick 3 day hop over the border turned into a full week of exploring the city and its many charms (and many donuts) with my daughter, my sister, my niece, and Harriet the dog. We stayed in a great AirBnB in the Alberta neighbourhood, and took in as much (caloric energy) as possible, including a day on the coast to play in the ocean waves and gawp at the Haystack Rock at Cannon Beach, a performance of Rent, Multnomah Falls, and the legendary Powell’s Bookstore.
I tried to learn as much about the swim and what to expect ahead of time, but this was a challenge. There aren’t many accounts of past Portland Bridge Swims online, and just a smattering of social media posts. I was most intrigued by the notion of “current assisted”, which I took in a positive sense to mean that the swim would take me much less time than what I’d typically swim 19 km (evidenced from my Christina Lake swim in 2020). Information emails from the organizers predicted a cold swim with a fast current, but as the date grew closer and I did manage to connect with some past participants, I grew to believe that the assist would be minimal, and that I should prepare for anywhere between 5-7 hours. This is critically important for planning feeds, especially as I’ve been struggling with this aspect of planning as I attempt longer distances and nothing seems to work really well after 12 km or 4 hours in motion. Like, I barf and lose energy and lose my will to live. But more on that in another post! My suspicions about the current were confirmed at package pickup, when one of the organizers confirmed that if any assist was present at all, it would be during the first 2 km. And that’s it.
I knew I was in for the long haul, so we made sure that Scarlet was also flush with snacks and hydration for the kayak. Portland was as hot as a witchās bazingy that week at 40 C. I donāt know how the swimmers in wetsuits do it – because the water was at least 20 and probably higher in spots. I really wish my feeds had been cold, and thatās something I will try to put in place for the upcoming Lake Zurich swim. It seems that pre-mixed warm anything is going to make me feel like hell, and sure enough, I did have 2 small hurls and 1 gigantic projectile vomit at around the 12-13 km mark, when even the thought of the next warm slug was almost too much.
Swimming under 12 bridges – all of them unique – was really cool. Swimming through Portlandās port-ly past made this a particularly unique swim, with each landmark or tanker or other boat (there were so so so many boats!) providing visual interest and a true sense of getting some place. I felt really motivated being in such a strange location, since the current made it feel like I was hardly moving at some points. I could usually see other swimmers and their kayakers on the water, with this whole other ālaneā of people going about their business and leisure right beside me. Scarlet took some great photos, on top of being a shrewd navigator and top notch bottle thrower.
Other than the pukes, which were such a minor part of this swim, I felt pretty good most of the way and didnāt experience anything out of the ordinary. In a long swim like this, I tend to go through mental stages much like any other major life event. I start out nervous but excited, and hit a real streak of positivity for the first 8 km. Iām happy to be in the water, Iām neither hungry nor burping up breakfast, and all my limbs are doing what theyāre supposed to. At some point between 9-12 km, things start to crop up. A nagging headache, a numb left arm/hand, a burning right elbow, a wave of nausea, a fear of not finishing, doubt about future swims, a drop in confidence. Sometimes I decide that this will be my last swim. But somehow, one stroke at a time, the finish grows nearer. I rely on Scarletās encouragement, their sweet face, their consistency and timekeeping, and their honesty. They know I can do it. I know that they know, and so I do it. I just get it done.
Coming into the finish felt great. I forgot about the pain as soon as I could hear the cheering. I saw my sister and my niece and could hear the genuine encouragement in their voices. With a few wobbly staggers up the sand, I was over the line and getting all the hugs, a finisherās medal, a cold bottle of water, and a tamale!
Itās always awesome to be part of an event where you can feel how connected the organizers are. This group were so happy to have pulled it off, achieved that 10 year anniversary, and celebrated being back in the river together. Their joy was contagious. I wish them congratulations and want to thank them for a thrilling day and a truly unique swim. Iād recommend this event to anyone whoās curious about stretching their distance limit beyond 10 km, or seeks a destination swim in a clean river in a vibrant city. Or who likes donuts and food carts and fun. It was the perfect test case for my upcoming 26 km in Zurich, giving me a little confidence boost and the fuel to keep on training, and keep it weird.
I’ve put off posting for a long time, and I have no excuses other than the general ennui that many of us are feeling to some degree as the challenges of the pandemic continue to bork things up for everyone. And so, this post took me until today, March 1, to finish.
Nobody wants to read more whining about cancelled events, shuttered plans, or disrupted training. I’ve experienced all of those things over the last 2 years, but I’ve also collected a laundry list of excellent things that have happened despite the dumpster fire. So let’s focus on those, shall we?
Highlights of 2021 (If I dare….)
Getting an early start in the lake
My local pool was never closed
Swimming in Vancouver with Debbie Collingwood
Swimming off Texada Island
New paddling people
English Channel slot confirmed (September 2, 2024!!)
Seal spotting synchro with Debbie
What I’m Stoked About In 2022
Hammer Nutrition Ambassador Program
Sri Chinmoy Lake Zurich Marathon Swim
Portland Bridge Swim
Swimming the length of Slocan Lake
The return of the Okanagan swims
I think my neck is better
I was selected to be part of Hammer Nutrition Canada‘s Ambassador team for 2022. The fact that they’d choose a leathery old nugget like me makes me love them even more than I already did, since they’re always so nice when I phone them and ask them a million questions. I’m determined to get my long distance nutrition challenges sorted out this year, especially after last June’s puke debacle during my 6 hour Channel qualifier. I’m going to experiment with all the fun stuff, including adding electrolytes and recovery fuels. If you’re curious about Hammer products, you can use my 20% discount code – aerin20 – when you check out with your cart full of juicy gels and magic powders.
Training at Nancy Greene Lake
My list of upcoming swims continues to grow as events are confirmed. This anticipation fuels me on the daily and helps to keep me motivated to swim endless back and forth laps at the pool, staring at the black line and listening to the same songs over and over while plotting my escape from society. As of today, I’m confirmed for the Portland Bridge Swim and FINALLY, at long last, the Sri Chinmoy Lake Zurich Marathon Swim. Third time lucky? I’m betting on it. Most of my training will focus on this event, so I’m using the Slocan and Okanagan swims as preparation to the big event on August 7. And then, if I make it, I’ll embark on a 2 week bike trip with mein Freund for which only my legs will be needed, since you hardly use those in open water swimming.
I do feel weird about sharing this post, since world events are overwhelming and despairing, and I can currently only concentrate for 20 minute blocks, when I’m not doomscrolling or staring out the window. People are hiding in bomb shelters and held up at borders while I sit here waxing on about my upcoming European holiday. So I will stop there, and get back to work.
On September 12, 2020 at 7:10 am, I slunk my shivering, slippery booty into the shallow, South end of Christina Lake and began a 7 hour, 19 km labour of love. Of course, first there was a ceremony involving the unfolding of the Oru Kayak, party beads, an intimate lanolin + zinc + vaseline rubdown, Guitar Hero, the Marathon Swim Foundation Rules, O Canada, and Territory Acknowledgement (in full below).
Ladies starting their engines.
At around 2 pm, I dragged my tired, wrinkly, raisin-y, but very happy body out onto the rocks at the very most North point of the lake, and was showered with hugs and love from some of the very finest people one could ever meet. The kind of people who would also spend 7 hours (or a great portion thereof) supporting a friend with wacky ideas and crazy ambition.
What was it like? What did I think about? Why would I do something like this? Did you poop in the lake? These are the questions I’m most frequently asked.
Well, it was smoky. It didn’t start off so badly, with a morning that wasn’t clear, but wasn’t pea soup thick either. I’ve swam in smoky conditions before (Skaha Ultra 2018), but this year’s US wildfires have had us veritably choking during the last 2 weeks. By the time I reached Texas Point, the smoke was lowering to the lake and it continued to get thicker all afternoon. I could taste it when I breathed.
Despite all that, I felt great during each stage of the swim. I was very conscious of pacing, and I knew that I wanted to maintain a stroke rate of 66 strokes-per-minute for the majority of the swim. Robin and Sue supported me during the first 10 km. They rocked the kayaks with some awesome hair metal, fed me Perpetuem every 30 minutes on schedule, and provided much needed banter and encouragement along the way. It was a pleasure to swim between them and I hope that they will flank me again someday.
Mmm Perpetuem.
I swam past all the swanky cabins of the South end, aiming at the point closest to the Marina, and then Texas Point, where Robin and Sue would paddle in and switch places with Ali, and Mike and Andrea would hop into the boat with Shanna. At the 10 km point, I was still feeling fine! The feeds were going well, I wasn’t feeling any chafing, and I was still able to somersault with joy when appropriate. I was even relaxed enough to pee while swimming, which is a pretty great thing. If you’ve ever had to pee really badly and just said “fuck it” and let it go, that’s what it’s like. Ahhhh.
At some point, I looked up to breathe and was surprised to notice 2 new orange and green kayakers – 2 kayakers I did not expect, but kayakers that I love!! Elaine and Rob appeared as if by magic and made that halfway point push into the next 9 km much easier, since I was so surprised and happy and honoured all at the same time. If you ever think you might need some motivation during an endurance event, just arrange to have some friends surprise you half way.
With Ali in the Oru, ready to guide and feed me, I pushed on toward Deer Point. The push to that Point, which is prominent from the water and looks much closer from Texas Point than it actually is, required a lot of mental gymnastics to just accept and carry on. What did I think about? Well, this is where I start to not think, and instead slide into a semi-meditation of moving arms and kicking legs and consistent bilateral breathing. This is where I start to find a real rhythm, and maybe allow a song in my head (Metronomy’s Reservoir, in this case) to take over a bit. I know that a feed is coming every 30 minutes, but 30 minutes can feel like a long time in the silence of water. I started to really look forward to those feeds. Marathon Swim Foundation rules state that the swimmer cannot touch the kayak under any circumstances, so I showed my appreciation with a little synchro love instead.
Couldn’t point my toe. Avoiding a calf cramp!
By this time, the smoke had lowered and thickened, and I realized that my shoulders were feeling pretty good. My lower back was feeling pretty good. I was still kicking a solid 2 beat. I was looking forward to feeds. I felt like I could swim a lot longer, so I knew that I was going to be able to do it.
And once I knew that I was going to be able to do it, the end of the lake became very far away just to test me. I have a technique when things start to hurt. I think about swimming at Nancy Greene Lake at sunset – my favourite time to swim. I think about how my hands and arms look when they enter the water in the golden light, sparkly and bubbly and effervescent. I imagine filling any part of me that is hurting with those golden bubbles, and how good that feels. It’s the closest physical thing to joy. I fill the hurt with the joy. š
Come on golden bubbles of joy.
I passed the Point and knew I was nearing Shanna’s cabin on the East side. I could see the sandy beach that represents what usually is the end of the lake, approximately 1 km away – but other plans had been made. According to the map, the actual northernmost point of Christina Lake extends a little further up to the entrance to a creek where the salmon spawn at this time of year. The area is marked off by some white buoys. I could see the white buoys for what seemed like a very long time. I did not want to see any salmon making love.
The end of long swims is often like this – you can see the landmark you’re aiming for and your mind starts to mess with you. You think, “that can’t be much further than 500 meters, can it?” and then the next thing you know, you’ve been swimming another half hour and it’s time for another feed.
At long last, I could see humanoid forms on the beach. I could see the white buoys actually getting closer, and I could see Shanna’s boat at the edge. I asked Ali to guide me in, baby, and baby, she guided me through those white buoys into a soupy stew of lily pads and weeds……and finally, THE END!
The end is nigh.
One thing I did wonder while swimming was how I was going to get out if I didn’t finish at the beach. Shorter race events often see one running out of the water to cross the finish line – on land – at the end. These always give me anxiety because sometimes my legs are wobbly after being horizontal for a while and I’m scared of being that person who bails in a very unglamorous yard sale of embarrassment. Not that I expect to be all Baywatch, but I do worry.
Coming in hot.
Luckily, the last 6 metres were 30 cm deep thick, sludgy brown goo. I swam through that goo and slapped my hand on a rock on shore. And that reminds me, I didn’t poop in the lake during this swim, in case you were wondering. But something sure did, up at the North End.
Done! Complete! I stood up and did not fall over. I waved to my beautiful, cheering friends. Then I got back into the brown goo and Elaine towed me over to the beach, where people hugged me (even though I was covered in brown goo), put beads around my neck, and ushered me into a clean, white bathrobe.
Even a cloud of poop sludge can’t stop me from smiling.
And like that – the swim was over. 19.1 kilometers in 7 hours and 13 seconds. I’ll be submitting my documents to the official bean counter people in the next few weeks, and hopefully the swim will be ratified. That would be exciting. It was a great experience, from the training (trust the training!!), route planning, nutrition planning, support planning, to the delicious huckleberry margaritas served up during our post-swim celebration. I thought about my Dad every time I looked up and saw the sunrise. I slept like a baby that night and ate eggs Benedict the next morning, and then I had another swim.
I must effusively thank my special support squad. Shanna, Ali, Sue, Robin, Mike, Andrea, Elaine, and Rob….I bow down to you like Wayne and Garth before Alice Cooper. You made this swim possible for me. You made this swim amazing for me. Thanks to everyone who followed my little orange dot on the tracker, and sent messages (Ali read them along the way!), and cheered me on. And thanks Shanna for calling Scarlet and my Mum in the middle of the lake so I could hear their voices.
I also want acknowledge that I am grateful to have accomplished this swim on the unceded traditional territories of the Syilx tmixŹ· (Okanagan), Okanagan, sngaytskstx tum-xula7xw (Sinixt), and Ktunaxa ÉamakÉis.
What’s next? A whole bunch of cold water swimming in preparation for a long, cold swim. What else?
Cue that cheesy song by Europe that we all secretly love so much….it’s the final countdown!
I’m really excited about this swim. It’s been a rather interesting year, to put it mildly, and I’m ready for something fun and exciting and challenging and for me, that means I’ll spend around 7-8 hours swimming the 18.5 km length of Christina Lake, BC on Saturday, September 12. I plan to swim from the main beach at the Provincial Park to the very top end of the lake. I’ll be starting at 7 am, and finishing in time for a cold margarita (if I can raise my arms above my waist) on my friend Shanna’s deck. That’s the plan, at least. I’m going to wear my new Q Swimwear suit, and I’m going chug Perpetuem and other delicious Hammer Nutrition fuels to help me stay hydrated and not hangry. If you’ve been with me when I’m hangry, you will understand. That’s the plan, anyways.
Planning this swim has been an odyssey in itself, and I’ve learned so much through the process. It’s been complex and has given me a much needed focus this summer where all of my events were cancelled and travel postponed. I’ve been consumed with everything from understanding the rules of the Marathon Swim Foundation, confirming a support crew on the day, training locally and training while traveling, making sure I’m eating the right things and enough of them and not so much of the other bad things (nobody has even SEEN me on a pub patio this year)….and contingency plans. I’ve had to make a lot of decisions, down to the swimsuit I shall wear on the day (the Q Swimwear Mixtape), to the type of cake I will stuff my face with afterwards (Black Forest), whether I make it or not.
Mmmmm. Perpetuem.
In the end, all you can hope for is that you trained properly – enough but not too much. I’ve been so lucky to work with my coach Brent Hobbs on a plan that has been challenging to stick to, but ultimately has me feeling quite confident for Saturday.
Nancy Greene Lake – 17 degrees.
I threw my own travel wrench into the middle of the training plan with a trip to Saskatchewan at the end of August. I did my very best to keep to the schedule, but with swimmable lakes (without a zillion jet skis and not smelling of old man farts) a few hours drive away, I had to be strategic. Luckily, my awesome Aunt Donna and her partner have a sweet cabin at Anglin Lake. True to her nature, Donna completed and passed her boat exam the night before my 5 hour trial, and she captained this very critical training swim perfectly. Except when she ran into the dock at the end and crushed a man’s leg, but that was her first time. I also swam in Martin’s Lake (blech), Riversdale Pool (take me back!), and did a 3 hour current-assisted swim in the South Saskatchewan River (illegal, but you know I’m a rebel).
Anglin Lake Very engaged support crewThe CAPTAIN of the shipMy Mum helped too!
I came home a few days early to resume a more consistent training schedule, and I’ve been out at Nancy Greene Lake and Christina Lake. Temperatures are dropping, but I’m still feeling great. My intrepid support crew is all set to go – THANK YOU SO MUCH ALI, SHANNA, SUE, ROBIN, ANDREA & MIKE! All that remains is to deal with tonight’s afterdrop, stretch, pack, and eat noodles to my heart’s content.
Full Moon Swim!
And lastly, I am not doing this swim for charity and didn’t want to ask people to dig into their wallets during what is a very challenging time for everyone. One of my motivating factors for attempting this swim was the death of my father last year on September 17. If you knew and loved him and are motivated to give, please make a donation to the Canadian Heart and Stroke Foundation in the memory of Kelly Bowers.
If you’re interested in following my swim, I’ve set up a tracking page at https://track.rs/aerinbowers/ so that you can follow along. I know, I know, the US Open Women’s Final will be happening at the same time. I can’t offer any exciting sideboob or water barfs, but there will be a little orange dot making its way up the lake, and that will be me.
Farewell 2019. I’m glad to see your buttcrack as you saunter off into memory with your pants pulled halfway down.
Still, there were highlights among the lowlights. Aren’t there always? Swimming offers me the most consistent vehicle for balance. No matter what’s happening, I always feel better when I’m in the pool. Even if I’m just floating around, thinking “Look at where you are in the world.”
Highlights
Swimming in beautiful European lakes during my summer bike touring adventure. Eibsee, Walchensee, Lake Sils, Starnbergsee…beautiful, clean bodies of water that felt so amazing and rewarding after long days on the bike.
312,000 training meters.
Second successful Skaha Lake Ultra Swim. I was slower, and it hurt more, but I made it across the finish line and scarfed a giant sandwich and kissed my kid who paddled the whole way beside me.
My first open water swim in Sweden – the Riddarfjardsimningen – was exciting and fun and a great way to build in a destination swim with a holiday I’ve wanted to take forever.
Getting the green light to swim the Sri Chinmoy 26 km Lake Zurich swim next August. This will be my focus for 2020. I’m gonna give it my all.
The Lower Columbia Masters Swim Club – an opportunity to swim locally with great friends. I didn’t make as many practices as I’d have liked, but I did get to swim with the team for FrightFest in Kelowna in October. I’m lucky to have such a sweet community of fellow open water enthusiasts.
Lowlights
Being sick and tired for 3 months after my Dad passed away put a major dent in my training and my annual kilometer goal.
My Dad passed away. I don’t know that I’ll ever get over it, but I hope he’d be proud of what I hope to accomplish in my swimming goals.
Not organizing a swim in Copenhagen while I was there. Not that I didn’t have any fun. And now I have a good reason to return!
Cancelling plans for the Slocan Lake and Christina Lake swims, which would have been really awesome additions to my summer events. I need to remember that summer is only really 8 weeks long and that there are only so many things that one can do. This one was pretty busy.
2020 Goals (resolutions come later…. once January has a chance to pull itself onto the deck)
Sri Chinmoy 26 km Lake Zurich Swim. I’m going to do it!
Portland Bridge Swim
Christina Lake – a good warmup for the above longer events
7th Across the Lake Swim
Cough up the dough for a proper training smartwatch
Consistent, focused training that will take me into the Lake Zurich swim in the best shape of my life. I’ve found a Kelowna-based coach and I am so excited for this man to kick my ass!
Yoga, biking, skiing, and all the other cross-training activities I love.
Look at where you are in the world. Not so bad, is it? I wish you all the best for 2020.
I didn’t get in, but was told by the organizers that swimmers are rarely chosen in their first application attempt. They encouraged me to keep applying and I put it on my list for 2019. The date came around in September, and I dutifully sent in my info with very low expectations and a tiny glimmer of hope that I might make the cut. And a tiny glimmer of terror that if I was selected, I would have to swim 26 km. In one go.
On December 15, I checked my email just as Air Canada was making love to me sideways over a barrel with a cancelled work flight and sure enough…I have a place! I read the email over a few times, laughed twice, shit my pants (figuratively) and then immediately told my VIPs, followed by Facebook and Instagram.
So what does this mean?
The swim is 26 km in Lake Zurich. Thatās in Switzerland, in case you slept through geography or are American. Just kidding. I love Americans.
Hereās a little illustration of the route.
26 km is a long way. I assume that if Iām even physically capable of such a feat, it will take me at least 10 hours. I have signed up for the wetsuit category, but I may rethink this as I connect with others who have done the event.
Iām looking for a coach to start with in January – someone who will work with me on stroke technicalities, a training plan, and some accountability. Iāve put some feelers out there and hope to meet my Mickey Goldmill in the coming weeks. I’m totally prepared to run after chickens and everyone knows that grey sweatpants and a toque are already part of my training style.
I donāt know if I can do it.
I donāt know if I canāt.
I donāt know how much fondue I will eat at the finish line.
I donāt know if I should plan a little bike trip before or after.
I donāt know much, but:
I know I love swimming, especially in lakes.
I love a challenge. Especially a big one.
I love Switzerland. I had a taste this past summer, and I’m excited to go back.
I need a big goal to focus on in 2020.
I will have a boat, but I do need a support person in it to throw me snacks and water and tell me to not die or cry. This person may have to either wear a diaper or control their bodily functions for up to 12 hours. Iāll be taking applications soon. Not everyone at once!
I’m going to eat lightning and I’m going to crap thunder. Knowing this makes a hard year a bit better.