Dock2Dock

After my completely embarrassing performance in the 2020 Dock2Dock 5k, I had filed 5k swims alongside marathons in the “too far, not my skillset, never again” category. However, after two summers on the trot where I was injured and couldn’t run, and weekly Swim Doctor sessions with the very patient Naomi shouting “high elbow” at me, I somehow developed the ability to swim in a half decent manner and thought I might give it another crack.

Unfortunately as soon as I did this my running improved and my swimming went to pot. I (deliberately) lost rather a lot of weight, which is a great thing if you are trying to run faster but, I discovered, a terrible thing if you are trying to spend long periods of time in chilly water. You also lose a lot of buoyancy and feel like you are trying to drag a bag of spanners through the water, and that if you stop and rest for even a second you will sink. In contrast to my marathon training, each training swim got a bit slower, a bit harder, a bit colder. I started to regret signing up.

And of course now being thin is pointless because I probably won’t be able to run the marathon, but with three days since that dreadful moment on Harley Street and the swimming race, no amount of doughnuts was going to get me back to my former self in time and I found myself on the start line with plenty of room in my wetsuit despite having socks and a rash vest under it, and a horrible pink 5k cap on my head.

I hate pink.

I deliberately hadn’t checked the water temperature because I knew I wasn’t going to like what I saw. The weather had been freezing all week and it certainly wasn’t going to be the balmy 23 we had last year. As soon as I got in the cold hit me and I wondered if I should just get out again. The other option was just to swim as fast as I possibly could and see if I could generate some heat.

It is hard to tell how fast you are going with swimming because you can’t keep looking at your watch without totally ruining your stroke and possibly drowning, but I was pleased to see that unlike in 2020, the landscape actually seemed to be moving. I have become very familiar with the docks in the last few years since I work in a dockside building, so having a good sense of location really helped. I could hardly believe it when I realised I was at the first turn around point at 1.5km already without having said one bad word or received any offers of assistance from people in canoes. I had even overtaken a few people!

The next leg was a bit harder because there were fewer defining landmarks on the dockside and I was definitely starting to feel the cold. But now I was committed to the experience there was no way I was getting out, even if my entire body turned to ice and they had to defrost me with a blow torch at the finish line. I just kept splashing onwards and again was pleasantly surprised to find the turn around point appear before I expected it to. For the last two dock2docks I’ve done the 3k and sped up for that final kilometre, but this time I felt there was absolutely nothing left in me. My arms and legs were frozen and numb and I just tried to concentrate on not losing my form and getting to the finish in a straight line. A quick glance at my watch confirmed what I’d suspected, I was well ahead of my target of 3 hours (and even further ahead of 2020’s 4:24) and I imagined myself triumphantly exiting the water and crossing the line, creating a beautiful finish photo which I could frame and put on my wall. What actually happened was that when I tried to get to my feet, I found I couldn’t, and had to be pushed and pulled in three directions by marshals, totally unable to feel my feet and walking like a penguin. I suppose I should be grateful that in fact no official photos have yet emerged of this spectacle. And most importantly, despite my lack of optimism, I got a time of 2:31:50, far better than I’d anticipated. And at least if I don’t make it to the marathon, I have earned one horrible pink medal this year.