Day 3: Nailing new experiences

The Big Day. All those mornings when I lay awake imagining my start, all those training swims in the lake, all those practice sprints in the pool; this is where it starts and ends, all in the space of less than 18 seconds, I hoped.

Waking up hungover was not ideal, but a fair price to pay for the experience of the night before. I think that’s probably the difference between me and the actual serious athletes, especially the speedy Russians.

For us Seals, this was one of our biggest events starring Bettina, Claudia, Susie, Sonja, Ana, Jim, Pete, Laura and Melissa. And me, of course. The support team at poolside was on form, flag in hand.

As our time approached, we went to the warm changing tent to prepare ourselves. Changing into our swimwear, we watched swimmers doing serious warm ups, whirling windmill arms, lunging slightly aggressively, psyching themselves up. More in the taking selfies and talking nonsense camp, we did a few token exercises.

The nerves gave me an almost electric out-of-body experience. I couldn’t keep still, fidgeting, heart hammering as our heat was called forwards. We sat on plastic seats with our laminated lane numbers, then as the next heat got called up, we moved forward to the next waiting place. Fellow Brit in my neighbouring lane, Susannah, gave me moral support, though she said I made her nervous.

Eventually, we were up. Walking out along poolside was such a buzz. Even though I’m not especially patriotic, I welled up as I heard my name: “In lane three, representing the UK, Rowan Clarke.” – what a thrill!

The start was very quick – too quick. “Take off your clothes,” said the announcer so we put our Dryrobes in our baskets. “Get in the water,” and we climbed down the steps. Then came the beep.

I had been obsessing about the start. I knew my reactions weren’t the sharpest, and that there was no proper solid wall from which to push off, and that at this distance, and with powerful quads, the push off would be important. I was slow to start, and my push lacked power. But I windmilled like hell, and swam well, coming third in my heat by 0.02 seconds.

To start of with I felt happy to have finished, then disappointed that I swam slower than I had done in practise swims. Then delighted to be 9th overall in my category. Then even more delighted to be British number one in my category and British number two out of all women after our own 24-year-old Laura, and ahead of Susie. And 66th woman in the world. Result! On International Women’s Day as well.

In our categories, Laura and I were both ninth, Susie was seventh, Sonja 11th, Claudia 14th, Bettina 10th and Ana 20th.

As though that wasn’t enough exercise, after a very brief lunch of a small slice of cake and a banana, we hopped in a mini-bus to forest just outside Tallinn to go cross-country skiing. We had a lesson on how to ski, before heading out on the track through the beautiful snowy forest.

In the evening, we went to a presentation about different winter swimming clubs from around the world, before coming back to our apartment for supper, and then heading out into the beautiful cobbled streets of the Old Town to Tallinn’s smallest bar, The Furry Owl.

A day of firsts, incredible highs, and unadulterated joy. My first World Championship race, my first time on skis, my first time crawling through a tiny hole to get into an underground bar.

 

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Day 2: Fifties, two hundreds and thirtieths

There’s only one time in your life that it’s ok to set your alarm for 3.30am, and that’s when you’re going on the trip of a lifetime. We didn’t arrive in time to see Sonja’s amazing 200m achievement, but we still had plenty to look forward to.

This much anticipated day arrived, as much anticipated days do. The sick, lurching stomach feeling of the last few weeks reached a new high, now with added clammy palms.

Flying’s not my favourite, but with teammate and frequent flyer Claudia by my side, checking in at Bristol airport was pretty simple… Until I saw the plane. “I’ve never been on a plane that small,” I said trying not to convey how uneasy I felt about flying on a minibus with wings. But a short hop to Brussels, and a quick transfer later, the snowy coastline of Estonia was in view.

Meanwhile, the team in Tallinn were starting their events. Sonja, Susie and Laura swam the 50m freestyle, testing their bodies in -1ºC water. Laura came 7th, Sonja 10th, but Susie was disappointed with her start to her 50m race, though still managed a very respectable time.

Next up was Sonja’s 200m challenge. The entry requirements changed from before the event when you had to do a qualifier, to not doing a qualifier, to needing a pre-race ECG. Luckily, there was a cabin at the venue where you could pay €15 for an ECG, so that’s where Sonja found herself strapped to a machine monitoring her heart, making sure it was up to the job of keeping her alive during the race.

A 200m race at that kind of temperature is very testing. Even to an acclimatised swimmer the cold water zaps your energy, making your limbs heavy as your body prioritises giving heat and oxygen to the essential organs. At the same time, it demands more oxygen, making you feel short of breath.

Back home at the lake, Sonja regularly swims 200-300m quite comfortably, but even a degree less heat makes a huge difference, as do the nerves. But she came a fantastic 5th in her category and was the second British woman.

The other significant event of the day was Ana’s 30th birthday celebrations. We went to a quite incredible restaurant called Leib. Serving up local produce and Estonian specialities, we ate black bread, creamy goat’s cheese with pink beetroot and fennel, fresh fish from the Baltic with parsnip noodles and a speciality desert called mannavaht, a creamy, frothy semolina with fruit juice, cherry dust and egg yolk chips. No, really. Delicious!

I’ve not really been drinking much since Christmas, and having a hangover for my first (and most important to me) race was not part of the plan. But the accompanying wine and schnapps to finish were impossible to resist, so I didn’t.

After four hours’ sleep the night before, a full day, and a full stomach, I crashed at around 11pm feeling very grateful for the two hour time difference, and too tired to feel nervous about the next day.

Tallinn here we come!

There aren’t many times in your life that you get the chance to enter a world championship. But here we are; a motley bunch with one thing in common – a love of winter swimming.

The World Winter Swimming Championships 2018 open tomorrow in Tallinn, Estonia. Arriving over the next couple of days, the Bristol-Clevedon area will be well represented by the South West Seals; there are 13 of us who swim regularly in Clevedon plus four or five more extra team members.

We’re staying in an Airbnb apartment. Our lovely host hasn’t filled us with confidence. His latest communications told us that ‘we have quite cold in Tallinn’ and to ‘take warm pyjamas just for heavens sake’.

Cue feelings of mild hysteria. We all know we can manage the water temperatures; we are all very well acclimatised having swum a weekly since the water started to cool in October, and we’ve all dipped in water around 0ºC. But it’s the grandness of the world stage, the tingle of excitement, the minus air temperatures, and what to wear to the gala dinner that flips our stomachs.

Over the next few days, we’ll post regular blogs for our friends, family and fellow cold water swimming aficionados to follow. This is where you’ll hear about our antics, adventures and, dare I say it, medals.

For some of us, this is our first competition. Ana and Jim have only learned to swim in the last year; Hillary, Anne and Tom only decided to enter at the last minute; Susie is our team captain, experienced championshipper, font of all knowledge and founder of the South West Seals. The rest of us have a mixture of experience from childhood club swimmers to recently trained swimmers who’ve taken part in a few galas, and a few of swam in the National Swimming Champs at Tooting Bec Lido last year.

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Last minute training today: L-R Anne, Sally, Hilary, Tom, Row, Ana, Susie, Sonja, Claudia

Most importantly, though, we have badges, team swimwear and gorgeous orange Clevedon Pier hats designed by our artist friend, Nancy Farmer.

Today some of us Seals practised our race starts and sprints. For most of us, this will be our last open water swim before we climb down the ladder to our starting positions for real. So watch this space, and let’s see how this motley bunch fares in the World Winter Swimming Championships 2018.

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Seals costume, Clevedon Pier hat and acclimatising in the snow!

 

My Eddie the Eagle moment

Estonia 2018. Flights booked, events entered, stomach flipping somersaults anytime anyone says “Tallinn”, but I’m actually doing it: World Winter Swimming championships, here I come.

It was actually not hard to enter; in fact, I’ve had a much easier time than Eddie the Eagle Edwards, who at least had to record a qualifier. It was just a case of registering for a couple of events, and then finding a flight.

It’s the training and doing that’s the harder bit. Swimming at least twice a week in biting water that electrifies your skin and turns it an alarming shade of pink is challenging enough, but racing in even colder water on the world stage for winter swimming will be quite something else. The water is expected to be under a degree. That’s colder than a G&T with ice.

And I’d be nothing without my team, the South West Seals. We’re motley crew of winter swimmers and chunky dunkers who gather on the side of Clevedon marine lake throughout the winter, faff immensely before tripping off to the water, swimming for a short while, and then faffing some more over warm drinks. Half of us are just in it for the cake.

We’re a growing team. This year, around 75 Seals have signed up to the Facebook group, and a dozen of us are going to Estonia. As winter swimming catches on, with its benefits for health and well-being, the number of feet-stamping, hot-water bottle hugging swimmers at the side of the lake increases too. Sometimes it feels busier than it did in the summer.

And we’re none of us athletes. Most of us are better covered than your average Olympian; I swear more ballast makes us better insulated and more buoyant. Our ages range from mid-twenties to late-fifties; our neoprene wearing from full wetsuit, booties, gloves and bonnet to bikini-only; our technique from quick dunk full of swears, to freestyle loops around the lake.

Estonia requires no neoprene. Other than that, it’s open to anyone with the desire and cold water experience. For the less confident in our group there are untimed events, while our youngest member has entered about six competitive events, and being an athletic, experienced swimmer in an age-category that’ll have the fewest entrants, has a good chance of winning some bling.

And imagine that! While there will be some hardcore northern European competitors for whom winter swimming has been a way of life since childhood, there is a small chance that a couple of us will win a bronze, silver or even gold in our events. Proper world champions!

However we do, the experience will be immense. The absolute joy of winter swimming is that it’s pretty much the only sport where it’s enough to simply be sporting. Other world championship-level sports require an Eddie the Eagle standard of dedication and practise; winter swimming just requires a masters-level of faffing and a penchant for cake.

To follow the South West Seals’ adventures in Tallinn, watch this space…

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Swimming at Clevedon at around 3 degrees centigrade