My swim story...

Swimming in actual open water events took some time. I just didn't see myself as an athlete, I was overweight and had every excuse about my body, and the aches and pains that came with trying to regain fitness. Under it all was probably lost confidence that came when I stepped away from the pool for good as a kid. My friend Lois, who swam with the same adult masters swim club, suggested we sign up for a 4km race at the lake where we'd been swimming that summer. It sounded terrifying, but I figured, what's the worst that could happen, I'd have to stop if I couldn't finish the distance...not the end of the world. It ended up being a pretty memorable swim, I swam really hard, and marvelled at how freely I moved through the water. But also terrified, I'd never really swum much in open water, every shadow was a shark, every weed a lake zombie's arms reaching up to get me. I was raised on horror movies in the 80s, I can't help my big imagination. After I finished, the coach running the event complimented me, saying how strong and fast I was. I was pretty much just scared out of my wits the whole time. But it awoke a joy in me, and I kept thinking about that swim, and coming back to the freedom I felt, being out of the pool and in nature, no lanes, no lines, no limits, as they say.

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And then I started training harder, logging hours outside of club time at a pool nearby, working up my distance. I signed up for a 10 km (6 mile) provincial championship, raced hard, and set a new age group record that stood for a couple of years.

Hubby drove us home after the race, I napped for 15 minutes, bolted awake and exclaimed how completely awesome I felt, and apparently repeated this numerous times before eventually falling asleep for the rest of the ride. Since then, I find myself looking for longer, pushing myself harder, exploring the boundaries of what my body can do. My confidence had started to return...

My next swim was a 14.5 km (9 miles) swim, followed by a 25 km (15 miles). I will never forget the night before that 25 km swim, sitting at the swimmer/kayaker pasta dinner. At some point, I ended up sitting with a group of accomplished swimmers who were talking about the swims they'd done that year, channel crossings, long lake crossings. I sat in amazement, excited to be swimming in the same event as so much talent. The swimmer sitting next to me was being chatty, which was nice, I recognized her and admired her accomplishments. Then she asked me the dreaded question - what was my longest swim to date? I sheepishly responded, only 14km. The look on her face changed to one of surprise, doubt, even a touch of disdain, it lasted only for a few seconds but it felt clear to me. And with that, she smiled a little, turner slightly away from me, and carried on with the other swimmers at the table. The awkwardness that followed showed me I wasn't in the same league, I was out of place. I was felt crushed that night, doubting my own abilities, but I woke up the next morning quite pissed off. People should lift each other up, encourage, support. But being pissed off helped fuel my swim, I channeled my doubts into a stubborn angry drive, and the whole swim I thought, there was no way I wasn't finishing, my body would have to figure it out. I placed 10th out of 18 women, not bad at all for a first-timer.

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I don't have a lot of marathon swims under my belt yet, there's still far more I want to and will accomplish. I swam my first 40km swim in 2023, and continue training for more. I'm still figuring out my goals - maybe I'll pursue a number of iconic swims in different parts of the world, but I'm also interested in venturing out and setting new courses yet to be swum, and to go longer and longer until I can't anymore. And along the way, to make sure I support others the way I would want to be, then, now, every day.