Summer Lovin’, Had Me a Blast

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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The Skaha Lake Ultra Swim – Take 2

I’m writing this post with my feet, since my arms and shoulders are so $%#@*&!! sore from yesterday’s Skaha Lake Ultra Swim. An 11.8 km marathon swim of ecstasy and agony, but not for the first time. This was my second time swimming Skaha. Why go back for more, you might ask? Well, that’s an interesting question for an open water swimmer, since we as a breed seem to seek out events that test us, tire us, thrash us about, and leave us battered, weary, and definitely wanting more.

When I talk to people about this “hobby” (and certainly this particular swim), a quizzical look often takes over their face. This is soon followed by an obvious expression of concern. And that’s ok. I get it – spending 4 hours in a wetsuit churning across a lake isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. But it’s definitely mine, and the 93 others who challenge themselves to make it from Penticton to Okanagan Falls early on a Sunday morning in forest fire season, with only a lone support kayaker to keep them company, and only some carbohydrate gels (and maybe some pickle juice) to eat.

Last year was my first Skaha Ultra (or any ultra), and I spent the majority of the winter leading up to the event feeling freaked out and excited and wondering if I was preparing properly for such an extension of my normal distance. I swam very near to the distance a couple of weeks before, so I entered the water very confident that I would conquer the distance but with no idea how I would fare compared to the other swimmers. I was very pleased with the results and it led me to seek out some longer swims, some of which have happened or are in planning or application stages. But – it whet (swimming pun) my appetite for pushing harder and for longer distances to see what would be possible for me.

This summer has been quite different! I trained all winter and had a respectable showing in the Across the Lake Swim. Soon after that I jetted off to Europe for an epic bike tour that certainly worked my legs and gave me calves of steel, but offered somewhat limited swimming opportunities for the type of distance I maybe should have been working on. In an attempt to keep my nerves at bay and my harsh inner critic in her locked box,  I thought of it as a long taper…

…until I was 8 km into the swim, and my right arm and shoulder started to scream at me.

“YOU DIDN’T TRAIN FOR THIS, YOU IMBECILE!” said my right shoulder, and the left one whimpered in sympathy.

“YOU ARE DOING PERMANENT DAMAGE TO ME, YOU ASS! MAY THE FLEAS OF 1000 CAMELS INFEST YOUR ARMPITS.” said my right arm, and the left one nodded but couldn’t speak because it was totally numb and had been since the 3 km mark.

“WE’RE PRETTY FUCKING HAPPY. THANKS FOR ALL THE BIKING.” said my legs, happily kicking a nice 5 beat without complaint.

I dug deep within and promised my arms and shoulders that I would reward them handsomely if they’d just keep swimming. I wouldn’t ask for turbo power, just survival. I would never again let them sit around, merely steering and lifting bites of apple strudel to my mouth, for a few weeks before a long event like this.  I would let them soak in a hot tub for at least 30 minutes after the event. I bargained with my upper limbs. And they held. But just barely. They even let me forget about them for the last kilometre, allowing me to finish strong, pushing myself upright to  run through the finish (clapping – apparently, and according to this photo!!), and accept my well-earned Finisher’s Medal, which was even nicer than last year!

Arms and shoulders aside, the rest of the swim was amazing. Scarlet, my support kayaker, charted a nice straight line to Ponderosa Point, and offered lots of helpful encouragement along the way. She even called me a “tough little fucker”, which I really liked. Thanks to the awesome Stevens for lending us the kayak.  The conditions were great and much less smoky than last year. I finished a respectable 39th overall, and even though I added 9 minutes to my time, I’m happy with the result. Blame the wind, blame the extra currents, or blame my undertrained arms and shoulders….but what’s the point?  An event of this length is a huge challenge for any body, and even finishing deserves a big bottle of Prosecco or $100 worth of room service or whatever else floats your boat.

I’d like to express my thanks again to the organizers of the Skaha Lake Ultra Swim. This event runs so smoothly and gives great confidence to the participants, who really have a lot of other things on their minds as they prepare. From the safety meetings to the convenient post-swim shuttle back to Penticton, this team has it dialed. If you’re interested in challenging yourself, the registration sells out quite quickly once it’s posted. You have to decide fast. And I think you should do it.

Will I be back next year for a three-peat? It’s certainly possible! For now, I’m sitting in the airport waiting for my flight to Stockholm, where I will swim 3.2 km at next weekend’s Riddarfjardsimningan (say that aloud after a few airport margaritas).  My arms and shoulders haven’t spoken to me since yesterday. They’ll get over it.

 

 

 

The Skaha Lake Ultra Swim…is OVER!!

I woke up this morning having achieved something I wasn’t sure I could do.

Yesterday I competed in the Skaha Lake Ultra Swim – an 11.8 km event in Skaha Lake, BC from Penticton to Okanagan Falls.

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I’ve been training for this swim for the last few months. I followed a plan and stuck with it as well as is possible for me to stick to any kind of plan.

I learned so much about myself during the lead up to this event. I learned not only what my body is capable of, but also my mind.

It’s often said that long-distance swimming is more of a mental than a physical game. The long training workouts required for a big distance can be boring, isolating, and frustrating. You are effectively trapped with your thoughts. I’m no stranger to this, especially with the annoying personal issues I am currently working through.

Physically, I knew I was strong enough for the marathon distance after last weekend’s 27.17 km. I had put in the work.

But mentally and emotionally, the work is so different. I have sought to create a positive inside space for myself when swimming. It’s so easy to dwell on what’s not going well because you have so much time alone with your own brain.  My work here has been to learn to focus on breathing, the movement of my arms and legs, and the rotation of my body. And to not focus on the things I can’t solve in that moment.

Sometimes it works for me, and sometimes it doesn’t. The work continues, and that is the whole point of it all, really.

Yesterday it did!

The swim started at Skaha Park in Penticton at 7 am. The weather was cooler than it has been recently, but the smoke of 500 forest fires hung heavily in the air.

The atmosphere was lively and positive, as you can see from the group photo taken before we started.

Swimmers and kayakers assembled on the beach to share last minute strategies and plans. I was so lucky to have my friend Christine as my support kayak. Christine drove all the way from Victoria for this event, and I am so grateful for her support and encouragement before, during, and after the swim.

We talked about my nutrition plan – Clif Bloks every 45 minutes with no dolphin tricks required. We plotted the straightaway to Ponderosa Point, and how we would approach each of the landmarks.

I swam my first 3 km the way I always do, easy and relaxed (unless something is chasing me). I focused on the rhythm of my stroke, my excellent tunes, and getting a feel for the water. At 20 degrees Celsius, it was quite a bit warmer than anything I’ve swam in recently.  I really noticed the smoke in the air, and I was thankful for the fruity flavour of my Bloks to take away some of the bbq-esque palate of the lake. Read More