There’s a moment before you start a long swim – whether it is a long training session or an endurance event – where you pause and think: “This is it - the second I pull my goggles down over my eyes and dive into the water, that’s it, for the next few hours. I’m in for the long haul.” You prevaricate madly, fiddling with goggles, staring down the water, having just another sip of your drink – anything to put off the inevitable. You know that after that split-second there is no going back.
That’s how I felt on Sunday 1 March. Pussyfooting about, teetering on the edge of embracing the commitment to 50 straight days of swimming. Knowing that if I set off to meet my friend Katie as agreed on Sunday morning to do my first swim of 50 that I had to see it through. I confess to being both nervous and excited.