So I thought I was a good swimmer.....
My dad taught me to swim when I was really wee, I reckon I’ve been swimming for about 30 years. I went to swimming club for a while and learned all four strokes, did wee swimming galas etc. I did a 5k swimathon once (torture). I’m a shite runner and my bike skills are embarrassing, but swimming I can do. My swimming confidence is up there - my dad told me I’m a strong swimmer. I can swim, i’m a good swimmer, right?
So since this triathlon is at Loch Lomond and so far all I’ve been doing is swimming in the sea, I thought, I better go and see what it’s like swimming in this Loch. I’ve only been in the loch once before while wakeboarding and it was pretty terrifying, defo used up one of my nine lives that day (only got 6 left now btw) so I figured best go and get some practice. There’s this swimming group on FB called The Wild West Swimmers - a group of open water swimmers who generally swim at Loch Lomond, Loch Ard etc. I spotted a group swim being organised one saturday morning at Balloch and thought, great, I’ll go and dip my toe in and see what it’s like. My front crawl by the way is super rusty - I’ve basically not done it since I left swimming club age 13. But I’ve been practicing it loads in the pool and had some coaching from a friend who is a swimming teacher so I fully expect to be able to jump into the loch and front crawl off into the sunset with all of these folk. I’m a good swimmer, right?
Some of the swimmers were planning a 2k+ swim across to Cameron House and back - I knew that was beyond me but I could see that other people were talking about doing a shorter route and i figured I can just turn back when I’m done anyway. So I met up with about 20 other folk at the Maid of The Loch car park and everyone is very welcoming, a nice lady called Alison assures me she is super duper slow and is going to wait for me and look after me. I’ve told them all I’m a rookie and am very nervous (actually shitting myself, why?) so they are all lovely to me.
We all start to paddle into the water, everyone chatting and getting caps on, tow floats blown up etc. TIP: A tow float is a wee inflatable that you tie round your waist and it floats along behind you on the surface. It’s mainly for the purposes of visibility but it would be a handy wee flotation device in an emergency too. Also, mine has a built in dry bag for my car keys and phone so it’s pretty handy and I highly recommend getting one if you’re considering open water swimming.
Anyway, I’m still gradually getting myself into the cold water, although it’s not as cold as the sea has been, the cold is just seeping in through my zip and the WHOOSH they’re all away! Aaargh - they’re so much more used to the cold water than me, it’s taken them like two seconds to acclimatise and I’m at the back on my own already, feck!! So I just get myself in and stick to head up breaststroke (aka granny stroke) while I get my breathing under control. TIP: Cold water takes your breath away which is why you should always take your time and edge yourself in slowly.
I’m out of my depth very quickly which is ok, but it’s SO DARK. It’s feckin creepy AF.
So I’m puffing along behind everyone, out to the first red buoy where Alison is waiting on me. I catch up and she says we’re heading over to that blue sign over there - ‘oh right says me, no bother’ (I can’t even see the blue sign). She asks if I’m ok. I probably don’t look ok, I probably look like i feel, totally panic stricken. But I tell her I’m ok and we crack on, I follow her out towards the blue sign, wherever it is.
Well it was bloody 500 miles away (actually 400 metres).
I haven't yet manage to crack out any front crawl. I’m still granny stroking.
The water is pretty choppy and thankfully, every else who is there agrees the conditions are tough, it’s not just me being a wimp. But I try to do some front crawl now that my breathing is ok - NOPE!
Straight away I get smashed in the face with a wave and swallow a massive faceful of water (tastes much better than the sea to be fair, very fresh!). There goes that idea. So I just granny it out the whole way to the blue sign. Poor Alison stops and waits for me regularly even though I assure her I’m fine (I’m not, I’m terrified) and I finally get to the sign ‘Cameron House Marina’ at the end of the pier with mixed feelings. I am both elated that I made it but I know I have to go all the way back and I’m pretty scared and tired by now. So I tread water for a bit at the pier and then folk start to head back.
Again I am grannying all the way and actually starting to feel like I’m not getting anywhere - it’s a bit of a horrible feeling and does nothing to subdue the general panic I’m feeling. But I can see that I am slowly passing landmarks on the shore. I try to concentrate on my hands in front of me - the only thing I can see in the black water and have the occasional glance to my right to check my progress, it’s slow but it is there, I am moving.
I can’t explain how long all of this has taken. It feels like hours. Is probs about 40 mins or so in reality. But I have aged about 10 years by the time I clamber back on to the beach. So relieved that it’s over.
I am traumatised. It’s so dark and scary in there and it turns out I’M A SHITE SWIMMER! Who knew?!
So the rest of that day is then a spiral into a pit of despair. I have my bike with me and after a hot shower at the Maid of The Loch (50p for 5 mins, bargain) I head over to Balloch Park to see if I can figure out the bike route. All I have is this map:
Unfortunately by now my head is utter mince. ‘what the fuck have i done’ ‘how can I be so utterly shite at all physical things’ ‘why am i doing this’ 'i’m going to die in this loch one day’ ‘how can one person be so totally crap at all sports’ blah blah etc etc
My cycle does not go well - I can’t make sense of the map (stupid i know as it;s not rocket science but my head is away). I stop at a lonely bench and feel VERY sorry for myself for a while, there are almost tears. I sack it off and limp off home via McDonalds. I am miserable for whole rest of the day. Poor Thomas has to put up with me.
Not a good day of training.
It does get less depressing I promise. Next time!
