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!
I’ve never done a “best of” despite having many favourite things, things I’m trying, and places I’m exploring. I also like the idea of giving kudos just because, and because sharing is caring in the real world and the world of open water swimming. I realize that it’s March and awards season is pretty much over, but credit where credit is due can and should be given no matter the season. If you read all the way to the end, you’ll find another reason why I’m in the mood for caring and sharing. (Whee!)
Best Swim of 2024
My best swim was June’s Around Coronado Island, supported by Dan Simonelli and Summer Wesson. It was my first big real ocean swim, and it tested my ability to set my (shark) fears aside and just swim. At night! In the open ocean! San Diego means a lot to me, and I had a great time during my visit. Dan’s guidance before and during the swim makes this one you don’t want to miss. Swimming into the San Diego sunrise…..I’d totally do it again.
Best Race
It’s a toss-up. I had such a blast with my BC swimming community in the Across the Lake Swim Series, which takes place from July – September. Last summer I swam the Rattlesnake Island 7 km, Kalmalka Lake 4.5 km, the Skaha Lake 11.8 km, and the Gellatly Bay 5 km. My favourite? It has to be Skaha, because I love this distance, this lake, and I swam a really good swim with top-notch support. This year the ATLS is adding more swims In Osoyoos and Shuswap Lake, plus a 10 km Kalmalka event to get excited about – check it out and if you want a discount code, I’m your gal. HMU. You can also camp in my yard. Well, maybe not for the whole summer.
Best Goggles
As a long-time Speedo Vanquisher wearer, I didn’t think I’d ever switch to another brand. The little nosepieces can be fiddly and dig into the sides of my schnoz though, so I sought out a new style with a larger eye frame and moulded bridge. I settled on the Roka R1, and bought both the clear (for night) and the cobalt mirror (for sunshiny days). I use them in the pool and the open water, interchangeably. I noticed an improvement in comfort right away, and I really like the slightly wider lens and how they don’t fog, as long as I give them a regular wash with dish soap. I still get the post-swim goggle-eyes, but I’ve sort of accepted that goggle-eyes are par for the (long) course and make me look wise like an owl.
Best Swimsuit
Swimmers, bathers, cossie, banana hammock (for dudes) – not the bane of my existence, but certainly necessary if you want to participate in family-friendly daytime events and not scare children, lifeguards, or people relaxing on their docks. I wore Q Swimwear exclusively for several years, and I love the extensive and fun selection of patterns and designs they offer. Then I decided that maybe half my bum hanging out would be acceptable (to most people), and I ventured into the colourful world of Jolyn. I liked both the “Brandon” and the “Devon” which come in size 38 and offer that partial coverage that is becoming of a woman of my vintage. I recently upgraded to the “Caroline”, which is my favourite suit ever. It contains my bosoms while still fitting a little high-cut, and I am the toast of the hot tub. They’re pricey and they no longer have a Canadian website, but damn I love this brand. I bought a bikini too, a black one – but I only wear it while drinking Aperol Spritzes in Rapperswil, darling.
In the interest of buying Canadian (for reasons that must be obvious), I searched far and wide for a Canadian swimsuit company and was introduced to Rise Swimsuits out of Vancouver, BC. I love their enthusiastic support of women in open water, and I love their bright and vibrant designs. With some very helpful Instagram chat assistance for sizing, I ordered 3 suits that are on their way to me now!
Best Hair & Body Products
I like Malibu Swimmer’s Wellness because it smells like blue lemonade Koolaid, the bottle reminds me of the hand weights in Olivia Newton John’s “Let’s Get Physical” video, and it makes my hair feel soft and shiny. It really does!
To keep dry skin at bay, as much as possible for someone whose gills close if they’re out of the water too long, I love Palmer’s Cocoa Butter Formula. The chocolatey scent lasts all day and it’s a pleasure to slather.
And again, I’d appreciate any Canadian-made suggestions for hair and body.
Best Underwater MP3 Player
After years of allegiance to the Finis Duo, I switched to the Shokz Open Swim and have been in love with this light and durable little headset ever since. It fits behind the ears and wraps around my head, under my swim cap. I load it up with songs each season in an ever-evolving playlist that powers my pool workouts and the occasional open-water swim (always when accompanied by a paddler – safety first!). I build a playlist in Spotify, and then use a YouTube to MP3 converter to save the file to my laptop. Once I have the file, I just transfer it over to the Shokz when they’re connected to the laptop via USB. It does take some time, but it’s one of those little swim rituals that help to keep my head in the game. I like it better than a pesky beeping timer for setting my pace, and I like that the battery lasts the 9 hours it promises. I never use the Bluetooth function, because what would be the point underwater? I used to hate that it wouldn’t shuffle, but I’ve turned that frown upside down by using the playlist as a memorization tool that comes in very handy during long swims where there is no music except in my head.
Best Nutrition
I finally sorted out my feeds last year after ten years of entertaining vomits. I tried everything from maple syrup to Eye of Newt, and the only stuff that’s worked for me is UCan‘s Energy in Cocoa Delite. Please UCan, if you’re listening – never stop making this flavour.
And bananas. Long live the banana.
Best Learning Experience
My weekend swimming with Dover Channel Training last July wins top prize for teaching me so much about what it would take to swim the Channel. I showed up not knowing quite what to expect and expecting to shame myself by barfing in front of the polite and cultured English people. Thanks to the wonderful Emma France, I discovered UCan and then had two awesome days and twelve hours of swimming circles in Dover Harbour with other English Channel hopefuls and luminaries. Even though the weather thwarted my plan to swim in September, I was totally prepared and a key part of that prep was the weekend I spent with DCT.
Best Surprise of 2025 (so far)
Saving the best for last, as is my practice. I’ve got an English Channel slot for 2025! My new window is July 1-10, so I’ll be hopping back on the Dovercoaster once again for what promises to be another thrilling ride. More on that and how it happened COMING SOON in an upcoming post. Whee!
I couldn’t decide what to title this post, since I didn’t know what I was going to write about until I sat down and started typing.
November Rain (we’ve had a lot of that!)?
November Spawned a Monster (nah – no spawning occurred, nor monsters, and fuck Morrissey)…
Gone ‘Til November (sort of…..but not quite right)?
And then I started writing, and I realized that I’m doing a lot of thinking about learning lately, and how hard it is. A title will magically appear by the end of this post, because I’ll learn something along the way. That’s usually how it goes.
So – learning. My English Channel Swim That Wasn’t was definitely one of the bigger learning experiences of my life. All that training, the effort to learn to swim for that long, the logistics of getting to Dover, learning to wait, learning about the wind – the factor that would ultimately be my nemesis, learning to project a positive mindset in the face of disappointment, and learning how to come home having not swam and deal with the personal fallout – these have all been major things in my life during the last two months. I found myself canceling plans so that I wouldn’t have to talk about it, or keeping conversations short when the topic came up. I avoided writing about it, and I avoided the pool for a few weeks so as not to be recognized as “the swimmer who didn’t get to swim.” I felt guilty about fundraising and not being able to follow through. I felt guilty about the attention I received, which felt like it was all for naught. My Inner Imposter syndromed its nasty way into my dreams and thoughts on long, pensive walks. I knew I was going to have to learn to deal with this and process it much in the same way I’ve processed other big tough disappointing things, or I’d never lift my head above the surface.
Late season swims in Christina Lake, October.
This is where I am right now – processing – but also gradually “chalking it up to experience”, as the saying goes. I took some advice and started booking swims for next year, because one thing I have learned about myself is that I do need those future milestones to reach for in order to not become a drifting, shiftless mess. I’m leaning into feeling the feelings of now, but focusing on the months ahead where several fucking awesome trips and swims and challenges are going to happen.
While the English Channel remains firmly in my sights, I did not accept a less-than-stellar slot for 2025. Instead, I took a confirmed #2 spot for the first week of September 2026. If a fortuitous cancellation happens in summer 2025 with my pilot Andy King of the Louise Jane II (as sometimes happens), I will jump on it and pop back over to Dover. It will be like I never left! My tears are still drying on the beach….
Boooooo.
Otherwise, I will continue my goal of achieving the Triple Crown of Open Water Swimming by swimming the Catalina Channel first. Future milestone #1 burst into and all over reality when I was in Dover, distraught that the Channel wasn’t gonna happen. I thought that I might be able to get a late season spot for Catalina, but had a helpful and informative call with Dave from the Catalina Channel Swimming Federation who informed me about the length of the registration process (too long to make it happen in 2024) and new forms and fees for 2025. I secured a pilot, paddlers (thanks SUMMER!!), and nabbed a confirmed date of June 29, 2025. This storied swim involves swimming approximately 34 km at night from Catalina Island to Long Beach, California, and I had originally planned to take it on in 2026. But since I’m learning to roll with the punches and seize the goddamn day, it has become my main training focus for the year ahead. I’m looking forward to bioluminescence, big grey shapes beneath me, and being able to invite a few more peeps to support and celebrate. It will be the Canada Day Long Weekend, after all. 🙂
Future milestone #2 came in the form of a WhatsApp message from my good friend and absolute swimming legend, Martyn Webster, who suggested that I grab a spot on a Swim Trek trip to Croatia in early April. I’ve wanted to do a Swim Trek trip forever and maybe even guide for them someday, so it seems to be the perfect opportunity to get some early season coooooold ass training under my belt. The trip is classified “ultra” and features 6 days of coached swims, video analysis, and seminars. Learning! It also includes the chance to do a 6-hour cold water qualifier, which will come in super handy should an elusive English Channel slot materialize in the meantime. I’ve never been to Croatia and can think of nothing better than exploring the Prvić Luka and the Dalmatian Coast from the freezing water with good pals.
With these lofty future milestones in mind, I’ve shifted from some half-hearted fall maintenance swimming into my brand new full-on plan. I enlisted the help of English ultra-swimmer Amy Ennion again, since her English Channel plan helped me get focused, faster, and motivated to take on the big swims. This year’s plan challenges me to learn how to swim faster and better, instead of just longer. There are a lot of plans and planners out there, but I believe that Amy is simply THE BEST. She took the time to get to know me, was available for necessary check-ins and rejigs, and her cheerful and motivating demeanor was just what I needed to structure my training.
The perfect title for this post occurred to me when writing this last paragraph about the most important learning this experience has given me – the learnings I learned from my coach and mentor Brent Hobbs. Brent has generously worked with me for almost four years now, and he is a constant source of knowledge, experience, and laughter. When I think back on the trip to England and the swim that wasn’t, I think about Brent and his constant good humour in the face of uncertainty. I think of how he crammed scones with cream and jam into his face with wild abandon. How he’d strike up a jolly conversation with anyone in a pub (and we went to a LOT of pubs). How he dragged my flagging ass down to the Dover Harbour for another swim, day after day, doing his signature flip turns off the slimy breaker walls and butterflying into the waves. How he ate more fish and chips than any person ever should, yet ran the Folkestone Half Marathon the day after we departed. How Scott and I laughed until we peed at the videos he sent from Liverpool, where he painted the town red dancing in Beatles bars and enchanted the locals. How he made us say, “It’s a bit shit, innit” when it was really more than a bit shit. How he understood how I was feeling, but somehow helped me learn how to keep it all in perspective. And how – in every situation – there is a Monty Python song that is just perfect for the occasion.
And there you have it – the post and the title: The Meaning of Life: Growth and Learning.
Open water swimming brings me incredibly memorable adventures. It also brings me close to my limits from time to time, or at least what I think are my limits. Sometimes, pushing limits and meeting amazing people and having adventures and swimming in cool places all converge, and that’s how last week’s Around Coronado Swim went down.
Earlier this year, I started planning a June work trip to San Diego. Knowing where I’d be in relation to my English Channel training plan, I looked for a local swim that would offer enough distance and some ocean experience. I don’t have many opportunities to train in salt water and ocean conditions, and preparing for the conditions I’ll swim in September is critical to my success. As soon as I googled “San Diego open water” – the answer was there in gleaming, flashing neon lights – the Around Coronado Swim! I scanned the website and found the contact page, and Dan Simonelli, and that’s where this swimming story begins.
My personal San Diego story starts back a little further, 1985 to be exact. My Dad, a high school physical education teacher, settled on San Diego State University as the place where he’d do his Master’s degree. So down we drove, from Saskatchewan to California in a 1979 Dodge Aspen with a U-Haul in tow. I was ten, my sister was seven, my parents were in their mid-thirties (omg!) and we were ready for an adventure. We lived in a condo in La Mesa and spent a great deal of time hanging out at San Diego’s beautiful beaches. Keen speed-swimmers, we joined the Heartland Swim Club in El Cajon which became our primary activity and social community. I was too weird and nerdy to fit in at school, but swim clubs are often hubs for misfit children. Much like the way school uniforms create a level playing field, there is equity in the idea of everyone in a Speedo. Thank goodness for that. We had a blast with our lycra-clad swimming family.
We often drove across the tall, statuesque Coronado Bridge to hang out on the Island on the weekends. We couldn’t afford to stay (or even buy a snack) at the famous Hotel Del Coronado, but we did learn how to sneak in and use the bathroom, which is a skill that I’ve continued to leverage to this very day. I’ve peed in some of the world’s most beautiful hotels. I’ve written about some of my formative San Diego experiences here and here. It was quite a time!
Me & My Dad on Coronado Beach, 1985
So yes, San Diego is special to me, and Coronado holds many core memories of my Dad and our year down there. That I would find a swim there at the perfect time and place was pure kismet, so I reached out to Dan and we started to make some plans for a late June window. Dan Simonelli (or, more commonly referred to as Dan SWIMonelli) is a living legend of open water swimming. He’s an accomplished swimmer and coach, and is an inductee Honour Coach to the International Marathon Swimming Hall of Fame. He’s a Carnegie Hero Award winner, an Official Observer for both the World Open Water Swim Association and the Catalina Channel Swimming Federation, and he is a very, very nice guy who took an interest in my challenge and supported me before and during my swim. Throughout the last few months, Dan and I connected about once a month to check in on my tide window and chat about things like nutrition, logistics, etc. He even sorted out my land crew for the finish, so that I’d be greeted on the beach with a towel and a warm drink. He exuded calm and confidence, and I could hardly wait to meet him in person.
June came around, I completed my 6 hour English Channel Qualifier, and I set my sights on Coronado. This swim is a 19 km (12 mile) near-circumnavigation of Coronado Island. It typically starts early in the morning at the Glorietta Bay Boat Launch on the San Diego Harbour side of the island. It finishes on Gator Beach, just beside the US Naval Base. Swimmers are assisted by the flow of an ebb tide for the first two thirds of the swim, under the Coronado Bridge and across from the lights of downtown San Diego, the airport, through the Bay, and then round the Zuniga Jetty to swim in open ocean for the remaining unassisted 5 km. The sun rises just as you’re rounding the top of the island, with Point Loma on your right.
I felt generally very well-prepared physically for this swim. But a few nights before the event, I let my curiosity get the better of me and indulged in some late night googling about the prevalence of creatures that inhabit this region of the Pacific Ocean, namely great white sharks. BAD IDEA. Never do this. For the first time I actually felt fear and trepidation in my stomach about a swim, and it wasn’t just tacos. What would I do in the event of an encounter? How would two paddlers fend off a twenty-foot Megalodon – with their paddles?!? Knowing that the first half of the swim was in the dark, how would I reassure my brain when faced with near blindness? Was I going to freak out? Would I be able to set that scary feeling aside and actually swim? I spoke with my friend Debbie and her (always) sage advice was to just “have the freak out and carry on.” She’s swum the Catalina Channel and survived and she’s one brave lady. Holger (my ever so practical boyfriend) advised me to abandon plans to wear my bright pink swimsuit in favour of the blue one, so I’d blend in better, and anything or anyone lurking below would maybe not notice me and mistake me for a tasty harbour seal. I do sort of resemble a tasty harbour seal no matter what colour my bathing suit is, but I was grateful for his advice, as always. I even swapped out my feeding strategy at the last minute to a minimal version that I hoped would lessen the likelihood of blowing chum-like chunks that would attract the creatures of the deep. But yeah, I was freaking out.
I was due to meet Dan and the other support kayaker, Summer Wesson, at the Glorietta Bay Boat Launch at 3 am. I’d booked an Uber from my downtown hotel to pick me up at 2:30 am, so I arrived a little earlier than Dan and Summer and I strolled around trying to calm my nerves, stretch, and visualize a successful and brave swim. When they arrived, we made quick and friendly introductions, went through the feeding and safety plan, and I signed the waiver/my life away to the fate of the ocean. Summer had literally just hours earlier returned from a swim around the Florida Keys. She also recently completed the first 2-way swim between Isla Mujeres and the Mexican mainland. I was honoured to be in such impressive company. The Around Coronado Swim is a sanctioned event with the Marathon Swimmer’s Foundation, so Dan’s role would be as official observer, rule-enforcer, and photographer. Summer would handle feeds. They’d flank me on either side. In order to make the most of the tide, we had to start at 3 am sharp. I greased up with Desitin and lanolin, took an anti-nauseant pill, affixed a light to my goggles, and stood on the shore waiting for Dan’s official countdown.
Dan gave the signal and I waded into the dark water, put my face in, located the bright green and red lights of Summer’s kayak, and started to swim. I could almost immediately feel the pull of the ebb tide as we headed toward the bridge. My eyes adjusted to the total darkness but I couldn’t see my hands entering the water, nor my arm pulling through. I noticed the briny taste and immediate softness and buoyancy of the water – so different than swimming in the lake. After a while, I could see the bright, sparkly lights of San Diego on my right, and the bridge above me. I started to relax, and I started to have fun.
Summer’s in the kayak, and that little red light in the water is me. It’s me!
I’ve always enjoyed night swimming, and this was no exception. It’s such a thrill to move through the water in the absence of light, knowing that there’s a whole other world below you. It’s just you – your body moving in the water at the darkest, quietest possible time. Of course, I wasn’t alone and my feeds (and conversations) with Summer and Dan started at 30 mins in and every 30 mins thereafter. We passed many boats in the harbour, and I wondered about the people peacefully snoozing in their cabins while I swam past. Soon enough I was swimming past the North Island’s Naval Air Station on my left, and then the San Diego airport on my right. Currents of varying levels of warmth and coldness passed over me and through me in every direction, and the thought occurred to me that I was swimming through stripes. I think night swimming heightens the awareness of the body, since hearing and sight are limited, and the weightlessness makes you very aware of sensations like different temperatures.
I wanted to try a very minimal feeding strategy for this swim, with a maximum of 250 calories and 30 grams of carbs per hour. Gels are the easiest way to accomplish this, and I was loaded up with a bunch of different varieties since I didn’t know what I could tolerate in the salt water. I’d planned to try S Fuels Race + again but had some flashbacks of projectile vomiting in Zurich as soon as I opened the packet to mix it in the hotel. Dan’s advice, knowing my proclivity for puking, was “hydration over calories”, and this was definitely successful for the first half of the swim. At each feed I drank about 200 ml of fresh water, which I looked forward to as much as the feeds. The mildly flavoured Maurten gels went down well, and I wasn’t hungry or full. Just thrilled.
A fine line of daybreak started to rise on the horizon as we were approaching Point Loma and the left turn around the jetty. and the movement of the water began to change. The current that had scooted me from the bay mellowed out, replaced by the more typical ocean swells. The light changed so much and so slowly, and I could see Summer and Dan during feeds. I adjusted to the different conditions and wondered if the twinge of nausea would go away or get worse. With the twinge of nausea came the standard feeling of not feeling so well at all, so I keep my head down and observed the developing discomfort. I’d packed a pumpkin puree packet (say that 5 times fast) and hoped that the purported claims of settling the stomach were true. They might have been, but the rank, bland taste of pumpkin in a big glob in my mouth nearly triggered the barf. At this point, the salt water also started to really bother me, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I’d produce a bucket of chum. An accidental gulp of water was the catalyst I was waiting for. And out it all came, in 2 glorious underwater exorcisms. I’ve honed my barfing technique so as not to totally gross out my support folks, but Dan and Summer were so kind and understanding, assuring me they’d seen it all before.
My next 2 feeds were water and then water and a banana, as I regained strength and began to enjoy myself again. We passed a buoy covered in honking pelicans and bellowing sea lions – even a baby one – adding to the thrill of the swim.
With feeds back on track, I carried on as the sun rose higher in the sky. Having rounded the jetty, the other side of the island, with Coronado Beach, the Hotel Del Coronado, and the Silver Strand State Beach was on our left. We were far enough out and I was deep in my mode without any idea how much further I had to go, in that common “zone out” that happens during long swims. At some point I asked and was told about an hour, so I made a point of enjoying every last minute and second of that hour. My shoulders felt strong and while I was constantly thirsty, the nausea completely subsided. I started to imagine the frozen Pina Coladas in my future at the same time as not wanting the swim to end. I wondered what would happen if I turned around and just started swimming back the other way, but I didn’t mention this idea to Summer or Dan. I think I’ll save it for the next time I do the swim.
The end is near! Moving toward the finish.
Dan had given me detailed instructions for landing on the beach, including torpedoing under the waves so I wouldn’t get somersaulted underwater, and also to shuffle my feet before running on to the beach so that some scary sand dwelling stingray wouldn’t eat me. Or something like that. He also said that I shouldn’t sneak into the Hotel Del Coronado for a pee, so I peed one last time in the ocean. Gator Beach got closer and closer and finally I was bodysurfing a wave into the shore. I gave Dan a wave and a quick shimmy, as one does, and the swim was complete in 5 hours and 26 minutes. I had a party of 2 – swimmer Jeff Breen and his brother – waiting for me with a towel and a warm peppermint tea. They’d agreed to be my land crew while Dan and Summer witnessed the finish and paddled the kayaks in. Jeff would swim his Around Coronado Swim less than 24 hours later. It was great to celebrate with him and chat about his experiences in the Catalina and Monterey Channels.
What a crew! From left: Jeff, Summer, Aerin and Dan.
I basked in a warm glow of exhaustion, relief, and happiness, poolside, for the rest of the day. I basked in the knowledge that I was the first ever Canadian to do this swim! I also basked in the glow of more than one frozen Pina Colada, but who’s counting? The Around Coronado Swim is a really excellent experience, thanks particularly to Dan’s guidance and support before, during, and after. It’s a beautiful, unique swim in an iconic place that now means even more to me than it did before. I’ll never forget it, and I’ll probably be back for another tour around the Island some day. There’s just this pesky Channel swim to get through first…….so it’s back to training. Wonder where I’ll pop up next? Stay tuned!
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.
On Saturday, June 8, I successfully completed my 6 hour English Channel Qualifier. This is a mandatory benchmark that all Channel swimmers must undertake within the year prior to their scheduled swim window. One must swim for 6 hours continuously in water that is no warmer than 16 degrees Celsius, wearing only a bathing suit, cap, and goggles (as per the Official CSA Rules), and have the swim witnessed and documented. I was lucky to have my coach Brent Hobbs, my friend Julian, and the phabulous Phred Martin accompany me on this beautiful day on Okanagan Lake, where the water hovered between 13 and 14 degrees throughout the 6.5 hours.
A prior attempt 2 weeks ago was aborted due to cryogenic conditions, where even the boats covered their testicles and refused to stay in the water. But at a balmy 14 degrees I covered around 17.5 km and, true to form, entertained my supporters and anyone watching from Cedar Creek Beach with some nice projectile vomiting. The sun was out, the lake gave some nice variable conditions to play with, and Brent even managed to catch some fish! This was the last and final hurdle of my Channel application process. Now all I’ve got to do is wait until September, and swim it!
In fact, I have now entered the phase where “shit gets real”. And it has gotten real, really fast! My weekly interval swims are increasing in intensity, and the weekend back to back long swims are getting longer and longer. It becomes more of a challenge to fit anything in other than work and swimming, and yet I’m conscious that I need to keep up my time in the gym as well as on the yoga mat. There are precious few hours for shenanigans, although I did go to Montreal to see my kid graduate from Concordia University with HONOURS (woot wooooooot), and I went to Austin, Texas for a conference and found time for a lovely swim at the Barton Springs Pool. This past weekend I swam with some new friends at Kalmalka Lake, which is one of the sites for this summer’s Across the Lake Swim Series. I suppose I have been up to a few shenanigans after all, but my focus is strong.
A dip at Barton Springs Pool in Austin, Texas
Next weekend I will fly to San Diego, CalifornIA to attempt the 18.5 km Around Coronado Swim, accompanied by none other than International Marathon Swimming Hall of Fame Honor Coach, Dan Simonelli. This swim will be a great opportunity to experience ocean swimming at night (yes, in the dark), drink some salt water, and hopefully not meet any Pacific ocean marine-style underwater creatures. It’s the perfect distance for this stage of my training. I know it will be a bit emotional because of my family history with San Diego, which I wrote about here. Stay tuned for what is sure to be an adventure to rival any Catalina Wine Mixer. I can’t wait!
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.
