I’m calling it: September is the New Year. January may have worn that sash in the past, but she’s never felt like a chance for a reset the way that September does. She’s cold, and the ski season is already in swing. She’s bloated and guilty and a bit hungover from the holidays. She’s confined to the pool, save for perhaps a cursory polar bear dip. She starts and ends in the dark.
September is where the fresh starts happen. A new school year, for awesome people like my kid who kicked off their freaking Master’s degree this month. Q4, for most of us that sell stuff, and Q1 (REALLY) for those in my industry. It’s the time for the closet switcheroo, and the waning days of air conditioning. It’s a swim in the lake on Monday, and then a crushing pool set on Wednesday, still rocking a tan.
September is my birth month, so I get to start a whole new year being a whole new age. This year the idea of a fresh start resonates for a million reasons, whether that’s in redefining relationships, embarking on a new chapter in my training, or putting some things firmly in the past and others squarely in the future.
I haven’t been in the water much since my English Channel swim. I experienced the expected Channel Blues compounded by a personal situation that both drained my energy and charged me with anxiety. The gym helped, the pool didn’t. I could float in the lake, but I didn’t want to put my face in. Walks and podcasts and friends and work powered my days, and I escaped to the Island to hang out beside the ocean and started to get some clarity. Campground conversations started to pull me out of the mire and suddenly, it was the last day of August. Thank fucking god.
September starts with my renewed training goals in mind. Getting stronger and faster in the off-season made all the difference in my successful Channel crossing, so now is the time when I recalibrate the plan, both for swimming and for the other shit that sometimes slithers into my periphery. Stronger, faster, and with joy. September is when the real work begins.
It’s time to plan applications for exciting 2026 events, and to line up the timelines and support I’m going to need for the swims I’ve already committed to. It really does feel like a new year, especially this year. There will be cake, chilly night swims, orange moons, long drives, and a whole new cycle of living and learning.
“September’s coming soon, pining for the moon / But what if there were two, side by side in orbit, around the fairest sun.”
I celebrated my one month Channel-iversary this week. It might have been with a few margaritas, since something happened to my tastebuds during my sixteen hour salt bath. Coffee tastes gross, beer tastes funny, dairy products taste like chalk, but the swim still tastes like a success.
Post-swim London hijinks with Brent.
That being said, I have not been swimming very much. I feel like I’m still processing the swim, and getting little bits of my brain back. I can accurately describe hours one through four and twelve through sixteen, but there’s a big murky middle where sensory deprivation and focus took over and I couldn’t tell you whether I was happy, tired, scared, or hungry. Beginnings and endings are much more interesting to me anyhow.
Back in the Scrabble saddle.
I’ve had ample opportunity to talk with both media and friends about my English Channel swim and was frankly surprised by the level of interest. People seem to be very curious about so many aspects of the swim, giving me a steady supply of topics to write about in the future. That one constant question though: what’s next?
What is next? I made the mistake of committing myself to several summer swims that should have seen me back in the lake racing almost every weekend. I’ve pushed back against the inevitable pressure these events would put on me – self-imposed, but still pressure – and cancelled! As someone who hardly ever cancels anything, I struggled with it and still wonder if I should just pull up my pantaloons and get back out there. To be honest, I have enjoyed not “training” over the last month, and have relished the long dog walks, Rossland hikes, bike rides, hangs with friends, and gym sessions. I haven’t dragged my bum out of bed any earlier than 7:30 am, and I haven’t consumed a single ounce of UCAN.
ATLS Ambassadoring
This month, what’s next has meant my next meal or next episode of The Bear (for the second time through).
I do have a lake swim in mind for later in the season, but that’s a big maybe right now. I don’t know if the logistics can work for both boats and crew, and it’s one I’d definitely want to do right, or not at all. So maybe that’s next, but maybe not. Upcoming holidays will certainly involve swims in Zurich and Thun, but it’s all for the pleasure of leisure at the moment.
♥️
One of the best things about swimming is that there is an almost endless list of potential “nexts”. I’m waiting for the lightning bolt of inspiration to strike. There are local lakes to bag. Big ocean swims that I never considered have now become possibilities. My English Channel swim has opened a lot of doors, especially in my own head, but rushing instead of processing and savouring feels wrong. These first short swims from Sarsons Beach are my way of easing back into the structure that I love and need, but it’s really all about the ease, which I haven’t enjoyed in a few years. So go easy on me, and what’s next will reveal itself soon. Or maybe in a few months. ♥️
With the expert navigation of the pilots of Optimist, unrivalled coaching and encouragement from Brent Hobbs, and Debbie Collingwood’s superb attention to all of my nutritional needs, I swam from England to France in 16 hours and 33 minutes on a spring tide.
I started at 2:30 am GMT from Samphire Hoe near Dover and walked on to the beach at Wissant, France at around 7 pm CEST. I spent ten minutes celebrating with Brent (who followed me in from the boat as Official Safety Swimmer) and a group of lovely French people who were enjoying the beautiful evening sunlight. Then, as the French Coast Guard dictates, I walked back into the water, swam about 200 metres out to the boat, climbed a ladder, hugged and cried and hugged and cried, and then promptly fell asleep for the three hour journey back to Dover.
To be honest, my brain hasn’t seemed to “upload” the swim quite yet, potentially due to some unexpected post-swim information that demanded some extra processing. I can remember sections, like standing on the pebble beach in the dark at the start, thinking “Holy shit, I guess I’m going to do this!?!” when the boat sounded the horn and I went for it. I remember finding it difficult to confirm where my position should be relative to the boat, especially in the dark, as I was told to swim on the starboard side. I do always breathe bilaterally, but my right side is dominant and much more comfortable.
I received my first jellyfish love bites on my face and my forearms about an hour in. It hurt and it stung and the pain lasted much longer than I expected, but it turned out to be nothing I couldn’t handle. Nobody peed on me from the boat, thank goodness. I saw many other pretty and colourful jellies along the way, which also made the experience feel magical and surreal. Sometimes they bumped into me, as if giving me a little nudge.
đź“·: Stan Stores
And yes, despite taking Zofran and other anti-nauseants and antihistamines ahead of time, and relying on UCan as my priority energy source, I still vomited around 4 hours in. If it hadn’t been for Debbie’s approach to my feeding plan, and the magnificent concoctions she created that gave me nutrition, hydration, and pain and nausea management exactly when I needed it, I don’t think my swim would have been succcessful. Because this swim is HARD – and required me to turn on my speed and kick and push and get faster and stronger just when my body would normally tell me to go and fuck my hat. I always had enough sustenance and calories and focus. Maybe it was eye of newt after all. Maybe she’s….a wizard.
📸: Debbie Collingwood
The middle of the swim – hours four to twelve – are murky in my mind. The sun rose, I changed to polarized goggles, and I was aware that my left boob was just hanging out the whole time, even though I had specifically chosen a bathing suit that normally holds the girls in and doesn’t chafe. I guess my boob wanted some glory too. I tried to adjust this during my feeds to save time, but she persisted. Oh well.
📸: Debbie Collingwood
The last four hours in French waters were hard and forced me to dig deep to places I’d hoped I could access but never really had before. The strength of the current that was pushing me back into the Channel instead of into the Cap forced me to use every bit of mental and physical strength I could muster. Brent communicated this risk to me during my feeds, and I knew he meant it. I could sense the concern from the captain and Stan, the official observer from the CSPF. This is the section where most swims are aborted, especially when the tides change. And given that while I am a swimmer with reasonable technique and endurance, I am not particularly strong or fast. I’m 50 and more physiologically suited to pinching perogies. I have small hands and feet, and I’m 161 cm tall. The “Channel weight” I’ve maintained during my training helps to keep me warm and buoyant (and cuddly), but it doesn’t make me faster.
France in sight
So – I had to find the will somewhere. I had to reason with myself, and tell myself that I could do anything for one more hour, and then another hour. I had to think about my Dad and conjure his voice, saying “Come on! You’ve gotta be tough!!” I had to use the power of the words of the people on the boat, who believed in me. Somehow, the shore grew closer, and then I was standing. And then I was walking, and crying, and clearing the water on all sides as required.
🎥: Debbie Collingwood
There were many more people who contributed to this effort. People who paddled for me, like Scott. People who built kick-ass training plans, like Amy. People who swam with me, put in kilometres alongside me, and urged me to get in the water, like Phred. People who saw that I wasn’t actually very tough, like my RMT Terry Downs who watched me levitate when she tried to work on my neck. And Jess Deglau, who is an amazing physiotherapist AND one of Canada’s best butterfliers ever. Emma France from Dover Channel Training, who introduced me to UCan.
The White Horse Pub, Dover
Holger. My Mum. The Hoffmans. Nicole and Craig. Martyn. Kylie and Robynne. Donna and Don. Brendan. Sarah. My ATLS SwimSquad. Gary and Jane and the lovely champagne!
And Catherine Taylor-Ludolf. Without her kind and selfless offer to switch spots, I would have had to wait until September, 2026 to attempt my English Channel Swim. I know she’s gonna smash it out of the park. She’s such a star.
I also just achieved my fundraising goal. I raised $10,000 for Canadian Tire Jumpstart Children’s Charities through the generous donations from people all over the world, including The Earl of Sandwich, who we met on the train from London to Dover. Many people donated twice – which truly makes my heart grow three sizes. Jumpstart has been a dream to work with. I will keep my donation page open as long as folks are interested.
After a few emotional days in Edinburgh, I sit on the grass in London Fields, where I’m just about to have a swim at my favourite London Lido. Everything is going to be ok, and maybe this is just the beginning.
Everything is ok and maybe this is just the beginning. ♥️
I’m writing this from the Kelowna airport, where I’m impatiently waiting to board my flight to Toronto, and then London, England!
The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of preparations, packing, and handling last minute details. Ran out of time to get my hair and nails done, but at least I remembered to shave my armpits and moisturize my heels, which are also important aspects of an English Channel swim.
I completed my peak week of training in Slocan Lake, which at 15 degrees was the coldest body of water within reach. Extra special thanks are due to Craig and Nicole for the lovely hospitality (and cracking sauna), and Scott for the expert paddling in some crazy Kootenay conditions!
Since then I’ve tapered and sharpened and hydrated and slept and eaten, and finished a very important second quarter at my real job! I’ve connected with my pilot, Paul Foreman, and we are hoping to set off on the good ship Optimist very early next week. I will post updates here, on Instagram, and in a public WhatsApp group that you can join here. Trackers for the swim can be found here (select the boat Optimist at the top) and here.
I’m so grateful to Canadian Tire Jumpstart Children’s Charities for their support, and encourage you to help them on their quest to ensure that every Canadian kid has the chance to participate in sports and activities. Over 4 million kids have accessed Jumpstart grants – let’s help another 4 million do the things they love! I’m getting very close to my fundraising goal of $10,000 thanks to so many generous people. Every dollar goes directly to Jumpstart, and potentially to a kid with a big dream, like swimming the English Channel.
Extra special thanks go to my coach Brent Hobbs, my best pal Debbie Collingwood, and my love Holger Andreas for stepping up to crew my swim. The dream team/motley crew will convene in Jolly London tomorrow morning, and then off to Dover we go! Get ready for some silly walks, Spam jokes, and German efficiency. I’m hoping for a very short trip on the Dovercoaster this time. Stay tuned and thanks for following my grand adventure!
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 – it’s frickin’ 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 Klönteralsee, 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 Käpfnach, 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 Käpfnach: 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.
đź“· Elaine Davidson
Want to help me raise $10,000? Not for me, silly, but for Canadian Tire Jumpstart Charities. Jumpstart helps kids facing financial and accessibility barriers access sports and play. 100% of your donation goes directly to helping kids play. My fundraiser is now LIVE and you can read about it here.
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. That’s in Switzerland, in case you slept through geography or are American. Just kidding. I love Americans.
Here’s a little illustration of the route.
26 km is a long way. I assume that if I’m 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.
I’m looking for a coach to start with in January – someone who will work with me on stroke technicalities, a training plan, and some accountability. I’ve 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 don’t know if I can do it.
I don’t know if I can’t.
I don’t know how much fondue I will eat at the finish line.
I don’t know if I should plan a little bike trip before or after.
I don’t 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. I’ll 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.
I did my first pool workout of the new year tonight, logging a sweet 3500 m in just over an hour. Now I’m eating tangy Swedish licorice and I’m pumped for the next 365 days to be steeped in chlorinated, fresh, and salt water.
Ok, here they are! My 2019 New Year’s Swimming Resolutions:
350,000 metres training goal. Last year I did 200,000. Let’s ramp that up a wee bit. I’ll know by July if I’m on target, and if I set a good pace and act in a disciplined fashion (new year, new me!), I might even extend that to 400,000. Just to be an audacious woman.
Dedicated practice for stroke improvement during every workout. I’ve spent a fair bit of time this past year trying to correct some long-standing problems with my freestyle, mainly my straight-armed swinging style. While this is a fine style for the dance floor, I feel like it hinders my efficiency in the water especially as I move into longer distances. Gotta protect those shoulders. Sometimes the world rests upon them.
Continue to blog as much as possible because I love writing almost as much as I love swimming. I have so enjoyed this little “project” and maybe I will even start another new “project” that I’ve been chewing on for a while. No spoilers.
Lake training. Once the snow melts and the lakes reach an acceptable temperature at which one’s nipples remain confidently attached, I absolutely must make the effort to get out to the lake and train as much as possible in the open water.
Cross-training. I’ve committed to CrossFit twice a week in an attempt to build my all-over body strength, and I really wanna climb that fucking rope. My other activities include cross-country skiing (I’m learning to skate ski and soon I will beat my boyfriend. Will he still carry my skis?), downhill skiing (usually ends in beers so maybe important for mental health but not so important for fitness), and running. Running toward my resolutions, and not away from anyone except the Frogmouth.
Night swimming. Deserves a quiet night. I’m not sure all these people understand.
And last but not least, I would really like to achieve a 25km + distance event this year. Although I wasn’t successful in my application to the Lake Zurich Swim, I haven’t given up on this milestone and am currently looking for a suitably comparable sanctioned event for the summer or fall. I’m open to suggestions.
Swims I’m Registered For/Considering/Planning (budget and work schedule permitting):
My sixth Across the Lake Swim. I really don’t like this distance and I never do well, but if I do it 10 times I will be awarded a silver cap. I understand that this makes sense only to me.
Skaha Lake Ultra Swim. Baby, I’m back for my second attempt and this year I’m going to do it much faster and in a straight line. I hope Christine will agree to feed me caffeine cubes and smack my ass with the kayak paddle again.
Christina Lake – the entire length. This wouldn’t be a sanctioned swim, but I’m really curious to see what it would be like to swim from the top to the bottom in one go. Google tells me that it’s 18.12 km, and I think it would be really fun. I’m envisioning a camping weekend at Texas Creek with hot dogs and smores and my Boler and good friends to cheer me on. What could be better?
Swim the Arctic Circle. This is a 3 km event that crosses the border between Sweden and Finland, but also crosses the Arctic Circle and the time zone. How cool would it be to combine swimming and time travel? Oh, my geek heart rejoices at the thought.
Swim the Island: Monte Isola, Italy. An Instagram connection tipped me to this annual event, which is an 8.8 km swim around Monte Isola in Italy’s Iseo Lake. It’s in October, which is a busy time for me with work. But it might happen.
Bay Challenge. This 9.6 km VOWSA organized swim starts in Sandy Cove, West Vancouver, and finishes at Kitsilano Beach. It’s not the English Channel, but English Bay instead!
Other fun news:
I’ve started a new Instagram account dedicated to my open water life. Surprisingly, it’s called Open Water Life. If you ‘gram, follow me there and together we’ll ‘gram all about swimming. I’m also planning a new look for this site. It’ll be style-y.
It looks like there will be a new swim club in my area, and I am so excited. It’s called the Lower Columbia Swim Club, and it will be dedicated to open water and triathlon training. Nothing beats swimming with friends!
I was intending to write a post of all of my favourite things from 2018, but it’s pretty overwhelming when you like so many things…and there are other things to do in the day besides compile lists (who knew!). Instead, I will plan a number of posts dedicated to these favourites, such as Instagram accounts to follow for swimming inspiration, the best apps, gear, podcasts, sites, swimwear, music for swimming playlists, men in speedos etc.
But mostly, I want to thank you for reading and sharing this journey with me. I clap for you, and I appreciate you, and I wish you all the best for 2019. Â Except you, Glen. Now let’s SWIM!
