One year ago this week, I stood on the shore of Wissant, France after swimming the English Channel. Blinking and smiling in the early evening sunlight, which was the most golden gold I’ve ever seen, I let myself be overcome with joy and happiness.
It still feels surreal.
The Channel was never just about swimming all that way. It was about years of early mornings, cold water, self-doubt, persistence, incredible friendships, and believing that an ordinary person like me could possibly do an extraordinary thing if I kept showing up and if I wanted it badly enough.
I’m especially proud that this journey also raised over $10,000 for Jumpstart, helping more kids discover the joy and confidence that sport can bring.
The year that followed wasn’t what I expected.
After my swim, my life changed in ways I never could have imagined. For a while, I let that overshadow the joy I should have felt: the joy from that classic golden hour in Wissant, when everything came together.
It also became impossible to keep the swimming momentum going. I wanted to, but healing turned out to be its own endurance event. Looking back now, I recognize how much I needed that break. I needed time to process, recover, and rediscover who I was beyond the Channel and the singular focus of training and training and training. I am many things, and becoming other things.
This summer I’ve played lots of tennis, I rode my bike around Hokkaido, Japan with my nephew, and I’ve swam glorious sunny laps in the delightful oceanside Kitsilano Pool. I swam at the Tokyo Aquatic Center, home of Summer McIntosh’s breakthrough Olympic performance in 2021. I have another bike trip just around the corner, and maybe I’ll do some swimming in Ireland in August. The world is my jellyfish! I’m looking forward to organizing an exciting roster of swims for 2027 with a clear head, a refreshed body, and a better understanding of who is really on my team.
I couldn’t have done any of this without so many amazing people. Thank you to everyone who paddled beside me, trained with me, coached me, mentored me, encouraged me, fed me, believed in me, donated to my charity, or simply encouraged me to keep going when things felt impossible. Especially to those who support me beyond swimming. Every solo English Channel swim may have one swimmer, but it is always a team achievement.
Happy Channelversary to me. Here’s to the next chapter. 🌊
I have certainly been oot and aboot, as we Canadians say. I’ve been in places I didn’t expect to be, but somehow seem to be the right places at the right time, most of the time.
Facing a crappy snow year on the mountain, dealing with ongoing fuckery, and generally in need of a change of scenery at the beginning of the year, I rented an apartment in Vancouver. Kitsilano, to be exact, and it has been a great call and one of the coolest experiences. Kits ticks all the boxes: an 11 minute walk to one of Vancouver’s nicest beaches, Pacific ocean sunsets, bike paths, cherry blossoms, and friendly people. I have loved my Kootenay and Kelowna homes, but I think I’m in my ocean swimming phase this year. Salt water heals and makes my hair look great. 💅🏼
Vancouver is home to VOWSA, an active open water swimming community that I hope to get involved with this summer. I also joined the English Bay Swim Club who practice at the Vancouver Aquatic Centre, and have enjoyed a mix of short course and long course Masters practices. Exploring other pools in the city has been fun, and I can hardly wait to swim outdoors at Kits Pool and the pool at Second Beach this month. I’ve been biking and exploring and thriving in my little 700 sq ft space with a blooming magnolia right outside my bedroom window.
Work travel combined with a long overdue girls’ trip took me to Quebec City in March, where I snuck in a swim at Laval University’s lovely facility.
I presented the story of my English Channel swim to a fabulous hometown crowd at the Rossland Museum in April. I have worked on different narratives that might suit specific audiences, and my Rossland attendees responded really well to an overview of both my swimming history, approach to training, and the swim itself. I pretended that everyone in the crowd was naked, which made me feel relaxed and happy, since Rosslanders are very good looking people. You can watch the talk here.
I am presenting my swim story for the Across the Lake Swim’s Lake Club as an exclusive member webinar on May 12. The Lake Club is ATLS’s new membership offering, and I’m looking forward to dishing the details for this community. I am also serving as a Swim Squad Ambassador for Across the Lake Swim for the third time. ATLS are running several new events this year, including a starlight swim and two new events on Vancouver Island. If you are interested in any of these events as a first time participant or seasoned swimmer, please let me know and I can offer information, mentorship, and a discount code.
“What’s next, Aerin?” still weighs a little heavy on me at this point, almost one year post Channel swim. The truth is that I really did need to take my foot off the gas this year, after nearly three years straight of pretty intensive and structured training. I wanted to focus a little more on other things. I didn’t have the motivation for the weekly kilometres. My bank account needed a bit of a bum rub of love. And honestly, the personal situation that derailed the celebration and processing of my swim kept not calming down and carrying on and throwing weinerschnitzel at my head.
I’m starting to feel ready to start planting swimming seeds again, as April showers turn to May flowers. Two friends who will swim the Channel this summer are coming this very weekend for some ocean training. You can follow them here – I know they will both smash it!
I’m taking off for a cycling trip to Hokkaido, Japan with my nephew in June. Since a bicycle needs a fish, I’ll be swimming along the way as well.
August means a trip to Ireland for work, combined with other amazing swimming opportunities. Thinking maybe Galway Bay? Fastnet? Suggestions welcome!
And there are the Across the Lake swims, some VOWSA events, and just generally trying to enjoy my life and maintain my peace, and get back to a place where more training and structure makes sense. Getting there!
All in good time. And all a good time. A fresh start means everything and I really needed one. For someone who has planned and structured meticulously for the last few years, it’s nice to just stop and smell the flowers. There are a lot of flowers around this time of year. I hope you’re enjoying them too.
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.
📷: 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. ♥️
One month from now, I will be in Jolly England with a score to settle. While the rest of my compatriots celebrate Canada Day with fireworks and Fireball, I’ll be nervously watching the wind forecast from my seat on the Dovercoaster.
Just kidding – I’m not really the score-settling type. But I’m not gonna deny that this time feels very different than the last time I was a month away from an attempt to swim the English Channel.
What’s different?
Last year’s open water training ramp was a lot longer, from May to the end of September. It also included a number of the Across the Lake Swim events as well as my Around Coronado Swim. At the end of August 2024, I’d been really giving it my all for 4-5 months. I was extremely well-conditioned, but I was also pretty tired, and dealing with the expected aches and pains of a woman of my vintage. This time my distance building ramp is a lot shorter, mostly because of the short window of open water swimming in a survivable temperature in our chilly Canadian lakes. Once the temperature hits 12 degrees, I’m generally good to go. Most of my build has been done in the pool during March and April, where I focused on speed and technique, as well as building my weekly back-to-back distance swims.
I’m just about to start my final big distance build cycle before a short pre-window taper. Coming up are a five and a two, a six and a three, a six and a seven, a three and a two, and a two and a two. I will additionally swim three times each week in the pool, continuing to work on technique and speed. On the weekends, I swim back-to-back long slow swims, which is a proven method of training and conditioning for ultra-distance athletes. These long slow swims allow me to relax into the extended period of time both physically, psychologically, and emotionally. I have to accept that there will be boredom and there will be pain. Without fail, I say to myself, “This is what you’re doing today.” at the beginning of each long swim, which creates the mindset I need to endure the time. Long and slow is the name of the game, like a snail doing laps in a bathtub.
That’s not to say that once I accept that “this is what I’m doing today” it becomes easier or less painful, just that acceptance sort of allows me to focus on getting started and settling in. I never know how I’m going to feel three hours in. Last week I swam a five hour in Victoria’s Thetis Lake and had the absolute worst time of my life during hours two and three. My neck burned and screamed at me. My arms complained and nagged. My shoulders called me every bad name in the book. But somehow, hours four and five got better. In some ways, each swim is a lifetime. And in the same way that some people forget the pain of childbirth or suppress trauma, my body and mind allow me to get back in the water the next day to do it all over again, and often I feel better and swim better the next day. Research supports the practice of doing between 50-75% of the distance you’re going to do in your event over back-to-back days. This is the proof that I cling to, partly because it worked for me last year, but also because I believe that it’s necessary to “trust the process” to become properly psychologically ready.
In Thetis Lake I swam a….
Part of being able to put my body through this amount of training is the necessity of massage and physiotherapy. Rest assured that my benefit limits have long been reached by this point, but I have learned to never scrimp on these crucial services. I work with exceptional professionals who understand my goals and provide treatments that are often specific to the overuse of certain parts of my body; namely my neck and shoulders. I’m in the gym twice a week working on strength, balance, and flexibility, and I use a foam roller, the old “tennis ball in a sock”, and any doorway I can hang from at home. I’m at the point where I can barely shoulder-check when driving, so I mostly ride my bike instead! I’m grateful to Jessica and Terry for putting up with my big baby tantrums and resistance to having my neck touched. I’m also grateful to Holger, and Scott, and Debbie, and my Mum, and Phred, and Brent, and everyone else who listens to me ramble on about my training and my FEELINGS.
The Oru Kayak that gets this snail around the bathtub.
With all this structure, it’s still difficult to “trust the process” and feel confident that I have enough volume under my belt. In fact, I worry about it all the time. The main thing is to get to the day and believe it on that day, and I work on that every day.
Post-swim golden hour at Sarsons Beach, Kelowna
Here’s what’s coming up next, for those who like to be in the loop:
June is Jumpstart Month, and I’ll be kicking my fundraising campaign into high gear! Stay tuned for the fun, and please follow me on Instagram for inspiring content about my WHY, my swim, and how your generous donation can help kids access the activities they love, without financial barriers.
As mentioned, the BIG BACK-TO-BACKS start pretty much now, and I love getting messages of support to help me push through these long training swims.
I’ll be honing and refining my nutrition plan to prevent the barforamas of the past. I’m looking forward to sharing what works for me in both training and on the day, since so many people have reached out to me with similar issues.
I haven’t yet decided on my wardrobe for the day of the swim, but I have narrowed my options to a few solid choices and I’d love your feedback.
Thanks for reading and supporting and cheering and challenging me – this is all part of the process that I am learning to trust, and knowing I’m not alone and have all of you in my Quackpacker makes a massive difference.
April, you came and went so fast, I hardly knew ye. I slogged away at my speed and build mesocycles, and tried to approach the long swims a with resolutely stoic attitude. Two hours of back and forth in a 25 metre pool is not actually much fun. Three is even less jolly, once you’ve counted all the flip turns. Still, you’ve gotta get it done!
Golden Hour in Okanagan Lake
I survive by breaking the swim into 30 minute blocks and think about a different technique point during each block. Keep one eye in the water when breathing. Elbows up. Fingers in one line. I also have a delicious slug of UCan every 30, since I’m training my gut to love it. It doesn’t make me feel nauseous but I do not look forward to the flavour. I’m saving my precious Cocoa Delight for the BIG ONE, so it’s either Lemon (ok) or Cran Raspberry (ugh). They are not making Cocoa Delight anymore, which is incredibly disappointing to all of us picky eaters out there. If you’re reading this and have an extra tub laying around, I’d pay a pretty premium to take it off your hands. I don’t even care if you’ve licked it – which is outrageous, if you know me. I never share my ice cream.
April was a whole lot of work travel too, as the first month of the busiest quarter in my biz. This means planes, trains, waking up with my hand between two pillows…and figuring out the available lane swim times wherever I go. I swam at Toronto’s Pam McConnell Aquatic Centre on an extremely busy night, with at least ten people in each lane – a practice in patience and reminding myself that WE ARE ALL HERE TO SWIM, which ultimately makes the world a better place. The reasonable and rational voice in my head says, “…slow down and work on drills – and smile.” A few days later I had an almost exact opposite experience at the storied Etobicoke Olympium (a perfect reason to stay near the airport in Toronto if there ever was one!) where I was blessed with three free pre-flight hours and my choice of several 50 metre lanes. I faced the wrath of jam-packed pools at Edmonton’s Kinsmen Sports Centre, but ultimately got it done in honour of Little Aerin who competed here as a kid, with stars in her eyes.
The Dolphin Club of San Francisco
A last-minute decision to accompany my love to a conference in San Francisco (lest he be messed around entering the US) turned into a week of amazing pre-season open water experiences. I swam four times at Aquatic Park – three solos and once accompanied by an awesome colleague who introduced me to the South End Rowing Club (cheers Brendan!), starting my cold water inauguration at 13-14 degrees. Swimming at Aquatic Park brought floods of memories of my 2014 San Fran adventure with my parents, where as a newbie to the sport, I swam the Escape from Alcatraz. Walking the same pavement and standing exactly on the same sand as where I hugged my Dad after the finish brought up a lot of emotions for me. I thought about my Dad throughout the whole trip, and I reckon he’d be pretty happy about where my swimming odyssey has taken me.
With my Dad at Aquatic Park in 2014
You can also get a day pass both the Dolphin Club and the South End Rowing Club on alternating week days, which is so great for visitors to the area. I loved exploring the historic buildings with their beautiful wooden boats and incredible collection of swimming memorabilia. Oh, and the sauna! Is there anything better than a nice, slow warming after a cold and salty ocean swim?
The icing on the San Francisco cake happened when I reached out to Pacific Open Water Swim Co to see if they had any last-minute slots for longer weekend swims in the San Francisco Bay. They offer so many epic swims, training support & coaching, and local experiences – like noone else in the area. I don’t usually leave things to the last minute and I didn’t expect it to work out. Then I got a message from Sylvia and a plan came together! We met at the marina on the west side of the Golden Gate Bridge and we headed for Belvedere Cove, near Tiburon. We hit it off immediately, chatting about all things open water, the English Channel, feeds, and safety (threw a Shaka for safety practice) and I knew I was in great hands for a three-hour swim in the windy and choppy conditions. I was nervous about the rough water and currents and definitely considered what creatures may lurk below and what I might do if one should chomp off my leg. But Channel swimmers have gotta be tough and prepared, so I Vaselined my neck, pulled my beautiful new Rise swimsuit out of my bum and jumped in.
New BFF just dropped.
As mentioned, I’d been a little freaked out about what wildlife I might encounter in this body of water. I was accompanied by a seal during an Aquatic Park swim earlier in the week, and I’d spent maybe a bit too much time googling local shark species the night before. So when a pelican landed about a metre in front of me, I said “Hey Buddy!” and thought nothing of it. But when the pelican came back a second, and then a third time, I knew it wasn’t there to cheer me on. I tried to kick it away, but this just seemed to aggravate it and it started to flap its big elbowy wings and peck at my leg. Sylvia blasted the air horn, but this Buddy wasn’t fazed and made it quite clear that I wasn’t welcome. I booted it for the boat and climbed in, and we motored to a different spot. Getting attacked by a pelican was definitely not on my bingo card.
The rest of the swim went swimmingly, I felt strong and handled the waves better than I expected to. I wanted to do the swim to improve my confidence, and I accomplished just that, thanks to the expert guidance of my new swimming friend Sylvia. If you’re looking for a Bay Area swimming adventure, she’s your gal!
Look Ma, no pelicans!Looks rough, was rough. You’ve gotta be tough.
I can now swim over an hour in my local lake at 12-13 degrees, much earlier than last year which sets me up nicely going into the Channel Qualifier. This is a requirement for all aspiring swimmers and involves a documented six hour continuous swim at 16 degrees or less. I’ve had no problems with this swim in the past and I’m looking forward to smashing it in the Okanagan Lake in two weeks with good pals and lots of laughs.
Pep talk from Harriet before a chilly dip
In the meantime, I’ll be in Saskatoon for work and to celebrate my Mum’s 75th birthday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY MUM!!), and then onward to Gimli, Manitoba. Maybe I’ll take a dip in Lake Winnipeg!
With just 8 weeks until my window opens, I’d just like to remind peeps that I am fundraising for Canadian Tire Jumpstart Children’s Charities – and I’m more than halfway to my goal of $10,000! Jumpstart’s mission is to remove financial barriers for any Canadian child who wants to participate in sports or activities. Jumpstart supports kids in communities all over Canada, and they have been absolutely awesome in their support of me and my goal. If their mission resonates with you the way it does with me, you can donate here, or help by spreading the word. Thanks!
As many of you know, I was supposed to swim across the English Channel last September. The weather gods made other plans, so I waited around in Dover for 7 days but didn’t get a chance to swim. Swimmers call this period of waiting and wondering and hoping and despairing “the Dovercoaster” and I rode it like I stole it.
I had a few months to lick my wounds and process the disappointment, and soon enough I refocused my training for an attempt at California’s Catalina Channel in late June. And then in late February, world events (that I won’t get into here) impacting the safety, security and sovereignty of Canada led me to a decision to cancel my Catalina slot to avoid travel to the US. Without an official BIG SWIM in the plan, I thought about things like joining a square-dancing club, becoming a tradwife and learning to pickle, or unicycling to the Yukon – all worthwhile pursuits but not what my chlorinated little heart really desired. I would just have to wait until September 2026 for my chance to swim the Channel.
Logging lots of pool time!
I’d been off Facebook for a while but found myself back in different swimming groups to look for someone to take my Catalina slot. And the day after I canceled it, I noticed a video with a story that would change everything. The person in the video – an accomplished marathon and ice swimmer in the UK – had been training for an English Channel attempt in July 2025, but an unexpected and necessary medical intervention would make that date impossible. She was looking for someone with a later booking who might want to swap.
It dawned on me. She was looking for someone with a later booking who wanted… to….SWAP!
She was looking for me!
I sent a message saying that indeed I would love to swap my September 2026 window for a new window of July 1-10,k 2025. She responded, and through some truly wonderful conversations we decided to move forward with requests to our respective pilots and the two Channel Swimming governing bodies. It seemed to happen all in a happy, dreamy blur – the pilots agreed, the governing bodies agreed, some paperwork and international transfers happened, and there you have it. I WILL swim this year!
I am so grateful to Catherine for putting it out there. I know she’ll be back and ready to smash it come next September, and I will do everything in my power to honour her generosity and swim my best swim ever in July.
Which means….that I’ve purchased another ticket for the Dovercoaster, and it’s a mere 18 weeks away. My window opens on July 1, which happens to be Canada Day. And I think that’s quite a perfect day to do something awesome, especially this year. I confirmed my intrepid support team (stay tuned…although I can say that Brent the Beaver is back to remind me to keep my elbows up, the decorated Triple Crown swimmer Debbie Collingwood will keep me focused, and a certain German that I love dearly will be frying weinerschnitzel on the boat.)
Dream Team
I’ve renewed my fundraising campaign with Jumpstart Children’s Charities. Having raised over $5000 toward my goal of $10,000, I know I can get there this year! I am honoured to partner with a Canadian organization making such an impact on the lives of children all over the country by removing financial barriers so that they can experience the activities they are passionate about.
Buckle up, ‘coz the Dovercoaster rides again! That’s the news!
Here we are in Dover! Ready to swim, ready to go, all supplies organized, team is primed, shoulders are limber…..and so I wait.
And I wait.
And the forecast is unrelenting, so I wait some more.
We look at other forecasts, hoping to find a glimmer of sunshine, a tamped down wind. We hear from the pilot, who is reassuring but promises nothing. We make jokes, that “it’s a bit shit, innit.” We eat fish & chips, enjoy a pint, play Scrabble, and explore, because there is really so much to see here – so much that reinforces why the English Channel is such a special, magical, mythical swim. Just think of what’s happened over it and under it and in it. I’m not a religious person, but the Channel has a spirit, and when you’re here you are IN IT (innit).
I read messages of support over and over again, wishing I had better, more concrete news to share. I receive a lot of concerned, but well-meaning weather reports. It’s hard to believe that people are so interested in the swim, and sometimes the tears come as I’m overwhelmed with the kindness and grace of my friends, family, and complete strangers who reach out with affirmations. My eyes brim each night as I close them for another sleep, heart bursting with anticipation. Not worrying about the situation at work, the dog, the unrelenting forecast. Just breathe and rest, silent mode, no alarms.
I’m on this roller coaster of emotional torture known to Channel swimming aspirants as “the Dovercoaster.” It is indeed like being in the front seat of a twisting, turning, careening ride, but one with no end in sight. It creates a level of nausea mixed with a low grade of anger, frustration, and despair. The top layer, the visible one, is reinforced with resoluteness and optimism. I will swim.
The weather will turn.
The wind will chill out, just long enough for me and all the others on this ride to get. it. done.
In the meantime, making the most of it becomes a mantra, in the same way I’ve internalized Holger’s “you will do it” said to me a thousand times, because I miss him but I also need to believe it.
In the meantime, fun and exploration abounds. We scour Dover for fish and chips, English breakfasts and good beer. I swim an hour every day in the 2 km harbour loop, close my eyes and pretend I’m IN IT – this is what it might feel like to be actually doing it. We play in the Castle and soak up the tales, and stroll the White Cliffs, bellies full of scone and cream and jam, layered just right. I read Andy’s WhatsApp messages, but not before taking a deep breath because he hasn’t said it’s not happening yet, just to be patient and sit tight.
One of these times the message will say “Get ready!” and we will spring into action. Will it be Saturday? What will that feel like?
The bus ride back from Canterbury is rainy and dark, and I imagine that out there it’s so much worse, and I’m glad to not be there right now in a gale force nightmare.
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.
📷 Elaine Davidson
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