11.5 kilometres doesn’t sound that far. In a car you’d be done in less minutes than you have fingers. You could run it at a nice pace and be done in an hour, but swimming it….. That’s a whole different kettle of fish.
2 hours 55 minutes was my time, which I was quite pleased with, meaning I finished 5th of the non-wetsuit swimmers, 12th overall.
Going into the swim I was confident I would finish, but more than a little unsure of what state I would be in at the finish. Having previously done the Dart 10k a couple of times, 11.5k didn’t seem too much of a push. However, the one thing I failed to take into account was that the Dart 10k takes place in September, when I’ve had the whole of the summer period to build up my swim training to a decent endurance level, after not swimming in open water over the winter months. Before the Dart swim last year I was regularly swimming 5 to 7k, a couple of times a week and still feeling I could continue if it hadn’t of gotten dark. This year, the maximum distance I had swam was 4k and due to a house move had only been swimming in open water for about 6 weeks. Consequently I struggled.
The swim starts at The Waveney River Centre, 11.5k along from the finish at the town of Beccles. We arrived at the start by bus from Beccles where you go for Registration and collect your tote bag, swim hat and timing chip. As usual, I was swimming without a wetsuit, so getting ready consisted of stuffing my t-shirt, shorts and shoes into the provided tote bag, smearing on some sun cream and pulling on the usual headache inducing swim hat, like putting a condom on a water melon. After putting the tot bag in the back of a waiting car, to be reunited with later at the finish, we began the safety briefing.
Thankfully the sun was out and it was lovely and warm, which is always a great help mentally when preparing to take the plunge into cold water. Psychologically a sunny day always helps. It is after all a mental game more than anything. Even so, the water temperature was about 18 degree, which was perfect.
Following the safety briefing where we were warned about the prospect of being run over by boats, eaten by the river monsters and drowned by magical water pixies, we filed down the boat slip way and into the cool water of the Waveney River. We fanned out across the river, gently back pedalling against the current to stay in one place. Then the whistle was blown and off we went.
I have a love hate relationship with the start of swims like this, as on one hand I like the nervous excitement of starting the challenge, but hate the way people jostle for position and end up swimming over each other. Thankfully this swim was different. I managed to find a little space after about a hundred yards and keep a nice pace, conscious of not going crazy and expelling all my energy in the first kilometre, trying to keep up with some Olympic athlete, who’s half my age and only doing the first 5k anyway.
After a couple of minutes I was surprised at the pace. It was faster than I thought it would be. Either that or I was struggling already, and that didn’t bear thinking about. It was a lovely swim through the reeds and fields of the Broads. I stopped about every kilometre just to slowly swim breast stroke for 30 seconds or so to appreciate my surroundings. The swim was well organised with plenty of support. Waving to the River Police, Fire Rescue boat, photographer and other event boats became quite a habit as they went up and down the river ensuring all was well. There were also kayakers who paddled along with the swimmers at various points.
The first feed station at 5k came around relatively quickly, and I grabbed onto the side of a paddleboarder floating in the middle of the river and had a chocolate biscuit and a few swigs of water. It was at this point while clinging to the side of the paddle board that I noticed my left shoulder hurting. “That’s not good” I thought to myself and decided to take a couple of Ibuprofen tablets I had tucked into the top of my swim shorts. I always put a couple of these tablets in my shorts in a race, for emergencies. They are the Meltlet ones. You can take them without water, they just melt on the tongue. So after popping them I left the comfort of the paddle board and tried to get back into a rhythm again. At this point I wished I hadn’t stopped, as I couldn’t find my rhythm and my shoulder was now painful with each stroke. Not so painful that I had to stop, but certainly unpleasant.
There were two other swimmers in my vicinity. A man who was swimming about 5 metres behind me and a lady who was about 15-20 metres ahead of me. Up until the feed station we had had a kayaker keeping pace with us and I had been chatting to her every now and then, which was good for moral. However, the kayaker was now gone and we were on our own. I was conscious that the swimmmer in front of me was slowly pulling away now, and after another couple of kilometres she was about 200 metres ahead. The man swimming just behind me was also struggling, he was now a couple of hundred metres behind me, and we continued strung out like that until the second feed station at 8k. I considered not stopping and just going straight by, as I didn’t feel I needed any food. However, I stopped, just to talk to someone again. The shouts of encouragement and twenty second exchange of words with the guy floating on the paddle board, really helped. I don’t even know what was said, but just the act of talking to someone help spur me on again. I had only stopped momentarily as I really wanted to try and gain some ground on the swimmer ahead. I left the paddle boarder and swam past an enormous buttress in the middle of the river that used to be the base of an old railway bridge and set in my mind that I was going to catch the swimmer ahead. However, this was wishful thinking.
I could not get into a rhythm and this part of the swim felt very disjointed and frustrating. Even stopping and looking at the beautiful scenery every now and then, I couldn’t get me back into the swim at the pace I wanted. The pain in my left shoulder was still giving me jip, but what was worse was I had developed pain in my right shoulder as well. Probably due to compensating for the pain in the left one.
I really began to struggle at this point. I don’t think I ever thought that I wouldn’t finish the swim, but I certainly had visions of me just floating on my back for the last kilometre of two and getting to the end in several hours.
It was at this point the swimmer who had been a couple of hundred metres behind me, appeared at my side and we exchanged a few words about being knackered. Also out of the blue there appeared a kayaker who shouted “Come on one kilometre left to go!” This gave me the kick in the arse I needed and turned on the competitive streak in my brain. There was no way I was going to let the guy next to me finish in front of me, and if there was only one kilometre left, I could afford to put the peddle down and use up the last of my energy, even if I couldn’t walk at the finish, I was going to go for it. I started to pulling hard with my arms and after about 100 metres of wincing with the pain of every stroke, the pain subsided and my mind was set on swimming as fast and efficiently as possible. “Why didn’t I do this before?” I thought to myself as I began to slowly pull a few metres ahead of the guy swimming next to me. A few hundred metres further and I realised why. Swimming at full pace with over 10k behind me, took it’s toll on my energy levels. As I reached the sailing club just outside the town of Beccles, a battle was raging in my head. An internal argument was getting rather heated between my mind saying “Come on.. Keep pace.. faster, faster, nearly there” and my body saying “Are you F**cking kidding me! Pack this shit in, I’m gonna be in an ambulance at this rate!”.
I could see the road bridge a hundred metres ahead, with the finish another 100 metres past it. I glanced over my shoulder to see where the other swimmer was. He was about five metres behind me. “Don’t stop now” I thought to myself. Then as I passed under the road bridge I saw my wife and kids standing on the river bank waving. That was an extremely welcome site. I swam the last fifty metres to the corner of the quay side and the ladder that must be clambered up to the finish. Grabbed the ladder and don’t mind admitting, had trouble co-ordinating my limbs to climb it. Coupled with the immediate sense of being drunk, and light headed due to suddenly being vertical, having been horizontal for the past two hours and fifty five minutes, the finish was a bit of a blur. Someone said congratulations and put a medal around my neck and another handed me my tote bag of clothes and towel. It took a good five to ten minutes before I began feeling anything resembling normal and it was at this point, when I tried to put my bag over my shoulder that I realised I couldn’t lift my arms above shoulder height without feeling like someone was stabbing me in the arm. Oh well, I earned that I guess. It felt good to finish and I am really glad I pushed the last kilometre, thanks to there being another swimmer pushing me. If I had finished slowly I don’t think I would have felt as good, even though it almost killed me and cost me the use of my arms for a couple of days, the euphoric feeling upon finishing is the best.
All in all this is a really good swim. Hard… Yes! Beautiful… Definitely! Worth doing again….? Sign me up! Though next year I think I’ll do a little more training. 😉