Entries for next years Great Swim series are open already. Christmas is not a great time to start contemplating squeezing into an overly snug wetsuit, the annual quality street box is already half empty and the strawberry creams are not improving my silhouette.
Christmas is a time for trying out new gadgets though so it’s time I reviewed my latest toy.
I was sent a swimming watch from Swimovate to try out for a week. It promised to count all my laps for me, freeing my mind to concentrate on higher level issues such as “what should I cook for tea?” and “did I remember to put any Stella in the fridge?”
It does more than that of course, storing my lap history and providing historical data such as distance, stroke rate, calories and efficiency.
It was the counting bit that appealed most to me though. I am always surprised at how inept I am at counting lengths. I start well enough, reciting 1, 1, 1 in my head til I reach the end and turn. Of course I then move on to 2, 2, 2 cos I’m bright and can count but I’m also easily bored so I start adding variety like 2, 2 and the next lap will be 3, next is 3, next is 3. If course when I get to 3 I think blimey that number is familiar I’ve already counted it. Then I have to go through the odd even calculation and match it to the direction of my travel. Basically I never get as far as 10 laps before I’ve stressed myself out and felt the need to re-enrole in kindergarten.
So it’s a lap counter, but a pretty good one. Beyond the first button press you don’t have to bother again until it’s time to get out of the pool. The motion sensors apparently pick up on the drift portion of the stroke at the change round. It will pick up tumble turns and your more sedate stop and turn technique. Provided you don’t change strokes within a length it will supposedly maintain accuracy.
I did my best to fool it but it was 100% accurate up to 16 lengths, beyond that I’m sure the watch maintained its accuracy but I didn’t and decided to just free my mind of the counting. Swimming with a blank mind is really rather freeing, it feels so much more like running.
It’s given me an efficiency rating of 73 which equates to below average which I suppose will be about right. They measure efficiency in terms of distance covered per stroke and I’ve always felt that I swim on the spot anyway.
It would be quite useful to monitor efficiency gains if you were trying to work on your stroke but I didn’t get to play with it long enough to see how responsive it was to minor improvements.
The battery is supposed to last for 1 year after which you have to send it back to the company to be replaced. I suppose that shouldn’t be a big problem provided they have a quick turnaround.
You can’t currently use it as a distance monitor for outdoor swims because it multiplies pool length by laps but I have picked up on some internet murmurings that suggest that might be about to change.
It could do with an overhaul of the user interface, moving through the history screens required me to pull out the instruction leaflet twice but all in all it’s a pretty good adition to the sporting gadgetry world and costs around £69 from Swimovate.
September 15, 2009 at 10:33 pm · Filed under Event, Swimming
So the big day arrived, not quite the day that every girl dreams of, but as days go it was big enough to require the same sort of dietary preparations. 6 weeks of off and on Stella abstinence brought me to a point where I was prepared to at least attempt a public shoe-horning of my wobbly bits into the rubber encasement.
Sunday was a hot day and the combined sweat of 2402 lady swimmers had condensed on the marquee roof and was starting to drip onto the dressers below. Other peoples sweat, wet skin and rubber only combine to create more stress and more sweat. I successfully directed my right foot into the wetsuit but then started hopping around and cursing my full English breakfast as I tried to squeeze my left leg through my left arm hole.
There was no time for this sort of faffing, we were late and were already supposed to be sitting in the lake “warming” up. Despite expecting the seams to burst at any moment leaving me pink and vulnerable like a lizard shedding its skin, I did actually manage to yank up the zipper. After patching all my grasping finger nail holes with a puncture repair kit I waddled out in full glory looking like a fat, black, naked lady with a severe nicotine withdrawal problem.
Not exactly my best look but here we go – that’s me next to the tall skinny guy, who I will not be swimming with next year. I’m going to find myself some fat friends.
As per last year I secreted myself towards the back of the pack in a vain attempt to avoid mid-lake battles. This year though I wasn’t swimming in the last wave and had to cope with the chasing hoards of sub 30 minute swimmers.
I had a few new strategies for this year’s attempt at the Great North Swim. Firstly I was going to remember my nose clip and then stick my head in the water, I wasn’t going to bother much with my legs as they’d proved useless in unscientific pool timing tests, I was going to wear shoes (?) and finally I wasn’t going to get asthma.
The nose clip really helped as you’d expect and I’m still sure that legs are overrated in swimming; I tried to observe every swimmer that passed me and a good deal of the sub 30 minute swimmers did not appear to be kicking with their legs. Of course they may have been kicking like crazy up til that point but its good enough evidence for me.
Probably the most significant decision in my overall performance was to give the asthma a wide berth. No idea how I did that, I took on heavy quantities of caffeine in the run up to the event, stuck my head in cold water a few times but there also seemed to be less motor fuel hanging around on the surface of lake this year and that may have had something to do with it.
So all in all, I had another pootle round a stunning lake, positively enjoyed myself for a few hundred metres and came home with a new pb, knocking 10 minutes off last years time and dragging myself out of the bottom 1% and well into the top 96% of all competitors. Result!
The only disappointment was that I managed to look decidedly camp in my sprint finish photo, not that I need to share that with anybody.
Actual stats:
Time – 1:01:57
Overall – 4392/4579
Age/gender – 366/385
As Dan can’t be arsed to keep a record of his times, I will jot them down here for prosperity:
The Great North Swim is now only a matter of weeks away. I’ve been swimming regularly but to be honest, the distance is the least of my worries.
I pulled the wetsuit out of the cupboard last month, dusted out the moth balls and then attempted the big squeeze……
Not good.
I forced the zip up but couldn’t straighten my arms and panic ensued within 30 secs. With no body glide I was falling all over the bedroom trying to trap the rubber under something solid so I could fight my way free.
I immediately pulled out my spreadsheet and started the calorie controlled route to a not so snug wetsuit but four weeks later I’m scouring the spreadsheet for dodgy formulas. Something must have gone wrong somewhere because I’m only about 2 ounces down.
I’m running almost daily and have now stepped into the serious measures zone. Stella has been eradicated (apart from Blog writing evenings) but if the scales don’t start playing fair I’ll have to join the bald penguin preservation society.
If I slice off both arms (rubber ones obviously), I’ll be able to move my shoulders and I’ll provide a new skin for at least two bald penguins, maybe even four, if they’re short.
As that seems an increasingly likely option at this late stage I thought I better get used to some cold weather swimming. So today I finally managed a trip to Tooting Bec Lido.
At 93 metres a length its practically open water swimming and the temperature was shocking enough to remind me that freezing mountain lakes will be unbearable without full body rubber protection.
I better make sure I don’t write too many blogs between now and September 13th.
I’ve been promising myself since March that I will start swimming again very soon.
The Great North Swim was approaching at a fair ole rate and given that it threatened to kill me last year with previously unknown asthma issues I didn’t think I should take my training commitment too lightly.
Good intentions were fine back in March, but its July now so I suppose I couldn’t have taken a lighter approach to training if I’d actually tried.
I have now swum though, so it’s all back on track.
Public swimming is a funny old do. Can’t say I actually like it that much. I like the swimming bit but other wet people can be so annoying.
It’s an absolute war of wills. Two swimmers fighting over a single strip of pool, locked on a course for a head on collision, determined not to give an inch til one smacks the other in the chin. A slow motion, watery, game of chicken.
Why do they always insist on swimming in my lane? I make a careful assessment when I get into the pool to determine a clear line that I might be able to squeeze up and down in but when I look up after 3 laps all the newcomers seem to have chosen my lane to try and muscle in on.
September 16, 2008 at 3:05 pm · Filed under Event, Swimming
How cold?!
I eased myself gently into the lake until I slipped on a hunk of plankton and ended up bobbing some where near my ears with a foul expression on my face. The lake was freezing and I had the pleasure of sitting in it for the bizarrely named “warm up”. There’s only one way this could be termed a warm up and the thought of 220 swimmers peeing in unison didn’t improve my look of disgust.
Actual temp was 15.1′C or 59 ‘F for those that understand these things.
I started shivering so got out pretty sharpish but then wished myself back in the water as I now had to hang around in front of the film camera feeling naked or at least a black rubberised version of naked which isn’t much better.
I was in the final wave so with no swimmers following up the rear ready to lap me, I faced the decided risk of coming in dead last. Or just dead, which I suppose would be marginally worse.
Not being a terribly confident drowner, I thought it would be best to steer clear of the main body of swimmers, so swam wide and started at the back. Speedracer keeps terrifying me with tales of swimming right over the top of slower obstructions and I couldn’t trust myself not to start fighting in the middle of the lake if anyone tried that technique on me.
As it was I quickly found myself alone, paddling serenely in the middle of this massive lake enjoying the backdrop of mountains and the occasional break through of sun. It was really quite pleasant and if it wasn’t for the inconvenience of being in some kind of race I would have liked to have taken my time.
Not that my swimming was fast in any way. My overly buoyant wetsuit wasn’t playing on this outing and refused point blank to lift my legs to the surface. Thankfully I hadn’t cut the buttocks out to fashion a pair of chaps or I would have had to swim round in the walking position.
By the end of the first half I started to notice a few problems, my chest was tightening up and I developed a cough. My lungs seemed to be filling with fluid and I was struggling to catch my breath, then the wheezing started and I was convinced I’d developed asthma. There were 3 of us together at this point and the swimmer nearest me had developed a productive cough at about the same time. The safety canoeists swooped in like desert vultures and guided us home, with motivational snippets like, “only 35 more lengths of a pool to go”. 35 lengths was probably the max I’d swam in a long time so I wasn’t that convinced I’d achieve it while threatening to have my first ever asthma attack.
I rolled on to my back a few times to float and to try and relax my breathing but in the end it seemed like the best thing was to get the race over and done with so I could panic on dry ground. I thought I was proper last at this point so when I finally reached the end I thought I better put on a bit of a sprint finish. This photo has to be one of the best action shots ever taken of me – thanks Tanya.
The satellite image shows Lake Windermere in all its glory, the next day as Dan and I drove down past its banks we flushed with pride at the thought of having swum across it. I have actually drawn our mile route on the image in it seems far from traversing the lake, we managed only a delicate nibble off a small corner. One of the rescue canoeists was telling me he had swum the full length of the lake – a mere 10 miles and another woman at the Great North Swim had swum it in both directions.
It still feels good though and now my breathing has recovered I can start making plans for next year, it wouldn’t take much training to ensure myself a whopping pb.
Stats for the event:
Time: 1:12:34
Position: 1779/1796 which puts me in the top 99% or if you prefer the bottom 1%. It is almost thrilling to discover that I am quite possibly a better runner than I am a swimmer.
The faster swimmer came home in 0:17:03 which is a bit galling.
I’ve been quiet for a while but I’m still out here, running and swimming a bit.
Swimming is still my biggest concern, I made it to the pool on Sunday thinking I’d sneak in a mile but I got bored and bruised after 1 km and called it quits. I was trapped in an anticlockwise convoy and every time I made a move to overtake the breaststroker in the group she would wait til I approached her shoulder and then dislocate her hip in order to give me a good sharp kick in the tits. I suppose I should prepare myself for much worse in the open water melee.
No more time for prep though, I’m just packing my bag for the long trek up North to the start of the Great North Swim. I’m a little apprehensive but that’s no surprise, I’m always in a state of dread before the big day.
The event report will follow but in the meantime I’m going to share the latest “Here I am” video from NikeWomen. They are publishing a series of animated films highlighting the mental and physical journey of a series of high profile athletes. The one below is of the triple jumper Simona La Mantia, it’s pretty good – moving, strong and it quite makes me wish I could jump above the clouds.
I’m looking forward to the one from sprinter Nicola Sanders which will be released shortly.
Lesson No 1: Scrap any plans for cross channel swimming attempts.
Swimming in the sea is tough. It started well, the wetsuit protected me from the staggering chill but the moment I put my face in the water I ingested enough salt to raise my blood pressure to alarming levels. I quickly raised my head and adopted the side to side waggle that gets me nowhere very fast.
(I do appear in this photo – search for the black dot)
Lesson No 2: I do not require any additional buoyancy in my backside.
What with the head wiggle and the 3mm rubber padding I felt like I was trying to swim in the yoga bow position. I couldn’t seem to keep my legs in the water and am seriously considering cutting the buttocks out of my wetsuit and turning it in to a fancy set of chaps.
Lesson No 3: Waves are for surfer dudes.
I bobbed up and down fairly happily until I started seeing the incoming waves breaking on their way towards me.
Then the panic started.
I went out twice over the weekend, trying out different areas of the beach in search of calm deep water but only managed a cumulative distance of 1.5km.
I need to get myself in the pool next week and start training, I also need to get over my reluctance to put my head in open water but I’m not sure how to practice that without sticking my face in puddles.
OGB may well have left London in search of science but he hasn’t stopped harassing me. The last email I got from him went along the lines of “how do you fancy doing a 10k race in Cardiff?”
Cardiff? That’s in a whole different country, why would you bother?
He obviously thinks I’ve gone soft and will sign up for any old event, I did afterall allow myself be bullied into the “Great North Swim“. Yup, I did say SWIM.
It’s apparently the first mass participation swim event ever, styled by the organisers of the Great North Run, and involves thousands of folk jumping into Lake Windermere and trying to swim over each other to reach the other side – a mere 1 mile away.
Sounds like great fun if you don’t drown.
One minor problem with this event is that it requires a wetsuit. Not surprisingly there is a huge shortage of off the peg wetsuits in my size so I’ve had to go down the made-to-measure path. How scary is that?
I’ve just gone through the measuring process and sent the figures off to Snugg for verification, I can see them now with calculators in hand, trying to determine if they possess that much rubber.
I’m not looking forward to the receipt of this item, it will require me to come face to face with my excesses. This suit will presumably be the size of a rolled flat me, where the hell am I going to store it?
What’s more, I can’t spend 200 quid on an outfit for 1 event. This is going to be the start of numerous wetsuit donning activities, OGB is just going to have to invest in a bike, I see triathlons ahead.
January 11, 2008 at 12:37 am · Filed under Swimming
Can someone remind me why I thought accountancy would be such a good wheeze? I feel like a gerbil trapped in a wheel, spinning it relentlessly from month end to month end. My days seem to be an endless cycle of prepare for month end, month end, recover from month end, prepare for month end, month end, recover from month end…… I’m going to blink one day and find myself aged 65.
At least now that I’ve recovered from my cold, I can break free a bit in the evening and run home again.
I joined the gym just before Christmas. My intention was to use the weights for a bit of serious muscle building but I got scared off by the hoards of inflated popeyes that preen on the mats. Having paid for 6 months in advance I’ve had to find some use for the place. Not much point using the treadmills, so that leaves me with the pool. I am now swimming and then running home and will therefore be a wafer thin racing whippet in no time!
I’ve forgotten all my immersion technique prowess of last year and am back to floundering. Managed a bit of a desperate sinking doggy paddle today as well. I have a near phobia of unattached hairs, a bit of an occupational hazard in communal showering/swimming areas, and every time I swim I go through a period when I feel sure that a hairball is just grazing my lips.
Immediately I flip onto my back, clawing frenziedly at my mouth. Then begins the death roll and flailing that invariably propels me to the bottom of the pool.
Soon enough I bob back up, decide I was probably thrown into a panic by a stray bubble and wonder why all the life guards seem to have sprung into action.
40 lengths today – enough to leave me roaring with hunger. What is it with swimming, I always come out of the pool feeling as though someone whipped out my stomach?
Sundays now seem to be the day for upside down triathlons. This morning I nipped out for a short run around Chswick and Barnes Bridge to check out the aftermath of the boat race.
Gorgeous morning, the river seemed to be teeming with kayaks for a change.
After a longish transition involving the production of potato and gherkin salad and relaxation in a luxurious bath I headed out with the Stumpjumper only to return to the house a few minutes later to collect the forgotten helmet. I see a disqualification heading my way if I don’t sort out this mental block before Stratford. Bounced around Richmond Park for a bit before arriving at Hampton pool.
I am beginning to think that swimming is never going to be my thing. I haven’t really read any more of the total immersion book so I quickly flicked to chapter 8 (the drills section) while I was in the bath this morning, that just scared me so then I started flicking through in search of breathing tips. I saw a few references to yogic breathing which I know about but have never really tried under water. Book closed – non the wiser.
Started off in the pool “pushing the buoy”, then remembered to breath. Started the next length focusing on breathing. Breathing every third 3rd arm flap seems manageable but while I’m in this routine I seem to forget about pushing the chest down. Revert to pushing chest down then immediately stop breathing again. Bob up to the top gasping for oxygen after about 12 arm flaps. Finaly fall back into the ever so slow, vertical, head shaking, bilateral breathing technique that I started with before I wasted cash on umpteen books and special vacuum sealing goggles.
Got out of pool, devoured delicious potato salad and started smiling again.
Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention to arrive safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming: Wow!! What a ride!
