Sick or Swim?

The age-old dilemma of training when ill has hit me this week. As you may have read on my previous post, my girlfriend Clare has recently returned from a 3 month trip around South America. She managed to take in most of the sites and have an excellent time. She decided however, to become ill just before returning home and was kind enough to pass this mysterious disease to me. She claimed it was food poisoning and displayed most of the symptoms, but it has hung around a bit too long for my liking.

Anyway I had to miss last weekends trip to Dover after spending the night with my face in a toilet and felt very sorry for myself for the rest of the weekend. I was certain, of course, that I would never recover and wouldn’t swim for weeks, if ever again.

Monday came and I was back in the pool, feeling weak and feeble but still managing to complete my session and registering some pretty decent times along the way. By Wednesday’s session I was terrible, exhausted and swimming like I had pre-Australia (probably still better than pre-Australia time wise but felt incredibly slow) so I decided to give myself a lay in on Thursday so I could have the energy for a Dover weekend.

Friday’s session went well and morale was high, I had finally beaten the disease that at one point I even feared was man-flu. This, as all men know, is the most debilitating illness it is possible to contract. So the weekend in Dover was back on, it would be good to get back into some cold water and catch up with the people on the beach.

Saturday morning, 0630, alarm goes off. Still felt ok. Quick wash (splash face with water) and some breakfast and out to the good old Saxo. It is only about a 90 minute drive to Dover from my house but by the time I arrived I was feeling considerably less than 100%. It was back.

9 o’clock arrived and Freda called us all round to announce we were to complete a 4 hour swim. Not a problem I thought, having completed 4 hours many times before. The water wasn’t looking particularly inviting though, and the sky didn’t look like it was going to make things any better, however on walking into the water it felt ok. Not lovely by any means, but not horrendous.

I paired up with Dan Martin, an extreme athlete who never seems bothered by the cold having swum in near zero degree water, and off we swum. The first 45 minutes were absolutely fine, my little finger was doing its usual performance of giving up very soon but the rest of me was swimming ok. Towards the end of the first hour though I was starting to feel a bit queasy, I put it down to the water being quite bumpy but knew deep down that my South American friend was back with a vengeance. After turning at the harbour wall on the hour I could no longer keep up with Dan, Hannah was near me though so all was well.

Then I was sick.

Swimming in your own stomach contents is never pleasant but it is something that most Channel aspirants will experience at some point so I carried on.

Then I was sick.

This wasn’t sea-sickness, it was actual sick, I was not having a nice time.

Then I was sick.

It was getting beyond a joke, I was again starting to feel very sorry for myself, I was slowing down massively and my eyes were watering. I looked at my watch, I had only been going for about 90 minutes there was absolutely no chance of finishing the 4 hours. I looked at Hannah who told me to swim to the next turn around point and then make a decision at the 2 hour feed. Very good advice, I of course ignored it and swam straight in and climbed out of the water. I wasn’t even shivering (as much as usual) but I just felt so weak and feeble.

I told Freda and Irene that I was out and went to get dressed and continue my feeling-sorry-for-myself-a-thon. Shortly after I got out another chap on his first Dover session came out, he was absolutely freezing, curled up in a ball getting hugged and having towels thrown over him. "It could be worse" I thought.

Basically training when ill doesn’t pay off. It makes the illness hang around for longer and drags out the recovery, but when training for something big it is often very hard to convince yourself to have the day off, you always feel like your slacking and losing fitness.

I will be returning to Dover tomorrow…


... I had the exact same day.