Tuesday, 8 July 2025

Coniston Chillswim 2025

After Equinox24 last Sept and a recurring knee injury I decided to stop running and not sign up for anything daft. With a build in swim consistency I instead put my eggs in the Chillswim 5.25 mile Coniston Water swim basket. My furthest swim before the event was a 3.6 mile DNF at Brutal Events Extreme Double also in Sept. Its a huge step up in endurance for me particularly in a discipline I hate (apart from on event day itself). The event has a 6hr cut off and I secretly hoped to go sub 5hrs. 


I got through the preparation faff and sat on the bus to the start. U2's Bad was the earworm that would accompany me throughout the swim. Nervous chat in the queue made the time fly and in no time Ironman Angus was squeezing me into my wetsuit. As I approached the start I'd lost my nose clip and was still wearing my glasses! Thankfully volunteer Julie agreed to keep my glasses and get them back to me at the finish. The sun was scorching, not a whiff of wind and the lake was a balmy 19°c. In we went. A group of purple heads with 5.25 miles to swim after a quick pose for the photographer. 


No chill factor to get used to and I was into a relatively steady stroke quite quickly albeit with some adjustment required to breathe out through my nose which would normally be clipped. I'd been swimming for, I guessed, about 9hrs when I finally reached the first mile marker. The additional half a mile to get to the first refuel boat took, I guessed, another 4hrs. I'd had enough. It had taken forever to swim a mile and a half and I was so slow. My shoulders were feeling it, particularly my right and I'd convinced myself I couldn't do it. The thought of another 4 miles was soul destroying. Had I been offered a tow to shore by a support canoeist I might have taken it. That's where I'd gone wrong. Thinking of the whole event and a finish that's nowhere near being in sight. It needed breaking down.....as they all do. So I did. Half mile chunks but bloody hell were the half miles taking forever. 

The waves of swimmers that started after me surged past. That was unexpectedly demoralising. A few swimmers somehow managed to swim into me when overtaking. In a mass start triathlon you expect some argy bargy but not here. Not on wave starts. There's no excuse for a better, faster swimmer to bump into a slower swimmer when overtaking. At 2.5 miles I was treading water trying to tease out a pee that had threatened to appear for a while when I heard my name being shouted. From 2 waves back, so 40 mins behind me, Sally Hatton was whizzing by in skins!! How she picked me out l don't know but it gave me a massive boost as she waved and said I was doing great. 

Two things then happened. I finally peed and I resolved to get the swim done. Sally disappeared ahead within minutes, finally finishing 90 mins ahead of me, but the encouragement remained. I was gonna complete the swim no matter how long it took, how much it hurt, how damn bored I was and, unexpectedly, how bloody choppy the lake became. And choppy it did become after mile 3. I noticed because I was overwhelmed with a disorientated kinda washing machine induced light headedness and each breath was curtailed with a huge intake of water. The waves seemed to be coming across me and added a rotational bopping about. This needed managing but I was calm about it. I adapted my breathing to take in air faster when the opportunity arose and didn't panic if it didn't. I also tried to swim at the rhythm of the waves. To try and use them to my advantage. My distance awareness was rubbish and my watch massively over estimating distance swam. I ignored both and just kept going. 


When I finally passed the mile 4 marker, after nearly 3 days of swimming, I knew I would finish and it was now a case of managing it to the end. I knew I was looking for a giant rubber duck but a mile and a quarter is actually a long way to spot anything and the choppy waters made it harder to see ahead. Most swimmers still out there were to my right. I seemed to have carved a route through the centre for myself and I wasn't for changing now. 4 became 4.5 and eventually 4.5 became 5. Deviously the yellow 5 mile marker looked like a rubber duck from a choppy distance. In reality the rubber duck was waiting just another 400 metres ahead or 16 snowdome pool lengths. 


I swam this last bit well, or at least it felt like I did (ignore my watch stats) and I eventually beached my not insignificant bulk at the finish. I took took few moments to clear my dizziness from standing, grounded myself, struck a pose for the photographer and got out of the lake. 5.25 miles in 4hrs 45 mins, a medal, a hoodie and a whopping achievement. Sally and Bob greeted me at the finish and asked if I'd enjoyed it. The obvious answer is no. It was boring, hard, difficult, troublesome, boring, demoralising and boring. But, the real answer, both during and upon reflection is as whopping a yes as the achievement itself. Why? Because there's an odd joy, maybe pride, to overcoming a seemingly insurmountable challenge. There's a joy in the darkness if you can keep moving forward. There's a joy in the test. Either that or I'm just weird. It's not put me off. Windermere looks impossible so gotta be worth a go. Some new depths of darkness to weirdly enjoy. Maybe one day. 


Thanks to everyone for the support and sponsorship. You're getting me closer to my target of £1250 for Level Water and helping kids with disabilities access swimming lessons. If for no other reason, that makes it worthwhile. Last chance to sponsor me if you've been meaning to. Thanks again to everyone, to Julie for the glasses, Ironman Angus for squeezing me in, but particularly Sally for the coaching and Mich for the belief, love and inspiration. https://www.justgiving.com/page/sidswimsconiston