I did something really brave today. I didn’t save anyone’s life: no rescuing people from burning buildings; no saving old ladies from being mugged. But something perhaps only I will consider really brave.
Today, July 2nd 2011 at 12.30pm, I swam a mile in the Thames. It’s not the most strenuous feat in the world, but to me, it was possibly the biggest mental challenge I have ever faced.
The “race” distance is 1 mile. That’s 64 lengths of my local 25 metre pool. I could do that without too much trouble, in around 45 minutes. After signing up in January, months passed and I didn’t really think too much more about it.
Saturday July 2nd – race day. A bowl of pasta for breakfast, a last check I had all my equipment and off we headed.
At 12pm our “wave” (i.e. the 12.30pm swimmers) was allowed to enter the acclimatisation zone – a separate area of the dock with just enough space to get in and have a quick swim around. A quick organised warm up at the start line and then we were off.
One mile in open water. In the Thames.
Given the drag of the wetsuit, the avoidance of other swimmers and the (very) slight current, I expected it to take me an hour, maybe a few minutes more. I completed it in 46 minutes – I was ecstatic. I crossed the line, climbed out of the water and happily received my winner’s medal. Job done. My training had obviously paid off – it wasn’t as hard as I thought.
It doesn’t sound that much and I guess it might sound like I completed it with relative ease. But for me it wasn’t that easy.
You see I’m a decent swimmer, so the distance wasn’t a problem; never really a concern. But I suffer from panic attacks (not often, but enough) and my biggest fear was not being able to start in the first place. The water would be cold, dark, deep and non-chlorinated. Everything I wasn’t used to and everything I feared. I won’t even swim in the sea. That’s what made me most nervous beforehand. If I had a panic attack in the water, that would be dangerous for sure, but not being able to finish the race was something I couldn’t comprehend. I would be letting down my charity (Macmillan), but most of all it was a personal battle for myself. I didn’t really let on to anyone about this – it’s a personal battle, something that embarrasses me. I find it impossible to explain so sometimes it’s just easier not to. The morning before the race, I woke up and cried. I was petrified.
But, I had my own secret weapon. I was doing it for Macmillan, a charity that I have utmost respect for. I have friends, parents of friends and even people I only know on Twitter who have battled with cancer. Some have come through, others haven’t, but Macmillan is a name I keep hearing constant praise for, so my decision was easy. And how was that my secret weapon? Mind over matter. As I got in the cold, murky water and looked as far in front of me as I could see (which was only the half way point) I thought about those I know who have suffered from cancer. If they have been able to face the pain, the sadness, the treatment, the rehabilitation, the not knowing and the knowing the inevitable then panic or no panic, I could stick my head in that water and swim. It was a strong emotion – I actually cried as I crossed the start line (but I haven’t told anyone that, so keep it to yourself). And I did it. I just kept swimming, took it in my own time and finished the race. Tired, emotional but elated.
So that’s why, for one day only, I’m going to nominate myself as the bravest girl in the world. Tomorrow it’s someone else’s turn.
p.s thank you to all my friends, family and Twitter pals for your support. And a special thanks to Mr Tizz who thankfully waited till after the race to tell me about his nightmare!
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