As we followed the pier on the edge of the city, we stopped at 40 minutes and decided we needed to head back because the fog was sweeping back in real fast. If we lost sight of the pier, we could get lost and be out in the cold water for a very unsafe amount of time. As we began passing another beach, one of my training buddies, Mike, stood up and asked the other, John, if he could stay close. He wasn't feeling right, and when hypothermia hits you, it rushes in very quickly. He was experiencing tunnel vision, couldn't form his thoughts or his words, and was having balance problems. He needed to get out of the water fast. So as John walked Mike back to the beach we started at, I told them I still felt fine and began swimming back around the pier on my own. The water was brain freezing cold and I could feel my jaw getting very tight and stiff. When I rounded the pier, I got caught up in the fishing lines of a homeless man fishing off of the pier. He looked like he was ready to throw a punch at me, but I highly doubt he would get in the freezing water to swing at me!
When I got back to the pier, John and Mike were all bundled up like Eskimos and we walked quickly back to John's car and threw on the heat at full blast. After a big breakfast at the West Egg, I went back to my hostel and lounged around before heading to bed at 4pm. The weather looked favorable for tomorrow, so even if the water was in the lower 50's, we still wanted to push for a four hour swim while I was in town. The swim would start at 4am, so that if I was feeling good at four hours and wanted to keep pushing on to qualify, I could finish before the life guards came out.
After about an hour of sleeping, I kept waking up because the person on the bunk below me stayed awake all night and kept shaking the bunk. The night before, the person below me snored so loud it sounded like a parked diesel truck. Oh the luxury of staying in a hostel........I suppose this is good practice in case I have to make my channel crossing in the middle of the night.
My alarm sounded at 3am and I carefully made my way down the bunk ladder. My suit was still damp from the swim before and the chilliness of it helped wake me up. I crammed a banana (I think I've eaten thousands of them while training for the swim) and a granola bar, grabbed my swim bag and ran downstairs to meet Mike and John. Whenever John picks me up at the hostel, he's always so great at boosting my spirits before a long swim. "Good morning! Are you ready for this? You're going to do great! Just to let you know, I'm probably going to push you to do your six hour today, but if you can't handle the cold, we may have to pull you at four. But you better plan on doing six."
While he was saying this, I didn't even listen to the four hour part. Anything below six hours was not an option. I had to get the six hour qualifying swim over-it would be a tremendous weight of doubt off of my shoulders and I needed it out of the way so that I could look ahead to prepare for my 10-12 hour swim in July. I also needed this swim in order to finish my swim registration with the Channel Swimming Association in Dover.
When we arrived at the starting point, it was pitch black. I hadn't done much night swimming at that point, so every time I would get into black water it was a little odd. Getting started is always the hard part, but once you are in, it's kind of calming. You can't tell which way is up or down and with the Chicago skyline all lit up and the stars out in the night sky, it really is a treat. When I got into the water that morning, the water was gut-twisting cold. The first 5 minutes in water so freezing can really dowse your positive thoughts-all I could think about was, "Dear God, please bring out the sun an hour early! I'll buy him a triple shot of espresso at Starbucks if he gets his butt out of bed! I'm freezing and I can't see a thing!"
I began slopping on the vaseline under my arms, between my knees, around my neck-any place that rubs together. After two hours of swimming, you can really have bad chafing if you don't grease up. John clipped on a blinking green light onto the back of my goggle strap so that he and Mike could keep an eye on me.
When I began getting into the water, I heard John yell, "Alright let's go! Sight across the lake to the red light on top of that skyscraper until you see the breakers!"
When I jumped in, my first thought was, "Oh. My. God. I hate myself right now! BRRRR!"
This first part of a freezing swim is what I call, "The Frigid Freak Out".
After the first two miles, I came in for my first feeding. Warmed energy drink never tasted so good! I crammed down a half of a banana, 8oz of Maxim and started up again. After that, I had a feeding every half hour in order to stay warm.
At that point, God gave me the most beautiful "Good morning!" anyone could possibly ask for after swimming in that water for an hour. Take a look for yourself!
The little orange dot down and right of the sun is me.
Around the four hour mark, I was getting very stiff from the cold. Every fifteen minutes I would sprint for sixty seconds in order to warm up again. My feet were blocks of ice and I kept clenching my hands into fists to keep them from going numb. When I came in for the four hour feeding, I was in high spirits. I felt great! Cold, but great! John and Mike let me keep going. I said to John, "Don't you dare let me get out of this water until I'm past the six hour mark!"
Around six hours, I came in for another feeding. Mike yelled, "You only have 10 minutes to go to reach your six hour! Keep it up!" John had jumped in to swim with me and pace me as I began to wrap up my swim. Every time we turned around he would slap me on the side of the head to snap me out of it. The water had only risen two degrees and it was making me a little loopy. I was so focused on getting through the swim he had to slap me to get my attention.
When we came in again, I said to John, "We're not getting out until we go out to the breakers and back, again. I need to do an extra hour for myself."
If it weren't for the cold zapping the energy out of me, I actually felt great. No shoulder pain, no muscle fatigue, just cold water stiffness and my fingers couldn't cup together anymore. If the water was at least above 56 degrees, that wouldn't have been a problem.
We reached the breakers for the last time and John yelled, "Bring it home!"
I swam as fast as I could the whole way back.
When I got to the beach, I stood up slowly. Being horizontal for so many hours can make standing up not very much fun. Your balance is off and you have "sea legs" sometimes. Once I did stand up, John began asking me how I was and I couldn't talk due to my tongue and lips being numb from the cold. I sounded like I was drunk! We both just laughed at me. Mike and John piled on a parka, sweats, towels...any thing they could find to warm me up.
What a great day......I couldn't stop smiling...I was a fully qualified English Channel swimmer! Watch out England, here we come!
If you are reading this post and wonder, "Gosh. What does she think about for all of those hours and hours in the water?"
In all honesty, a majority of the time I am thinking about all of the loved ones in my family who have fought cancer. I have had three relatives who suffered from cancer right around the age I am right now. When I think about them and all that they had to go through to have another day to live, I can't help but feel absolutely blessed and privileged to be able to take every single stroke-even in miserably cold water. Talk to a cancer patient-it is profoundly humbling and almost makes you ashamed of every time you took your health for granted, every time you complained that you were tired, cranky, had a head ache, etc. These courageous individuals go through much worse for days or even years, just to live another day. Life is a precious gift and we should not take it so lightly.
The cancer fund that Crossing for a Cure is trying to build is also a way to remember and honor those individuals. These funds provide the next generation of researchers with the funds they need to start their journey to finding a cure. Every cure and solution starts with a seed-whether that is an idea, or seed monies that come from generous donations from people just like you. Please donate now as a tribute to those you know who have fought cancer.
