Final Update: 23 July 2025

Finally; The last episode of one of the greatest experiences of my life:

Monday, 21st July

I was merrily enjoying the morning when a WhatsApp message popped up from Bex, our Aspire Team Lead. The Boat Pilot wanted to know if we could be ready for a Channel swim on Wednesday or Thursday morning. Simon, our resident DIY expert and “Chisel in Thumb Man,” decided he’d risk it even though his thumb hadn’t fully healed. With his agreement, the whole team committed to going for it.

The day then moved to a sense of anticipation and nervous energy hanging in the air. The morning passed in a blur of last-minute preparations and double-checking our evolving plans. Weather updates, gear lists, and the familiar camaraderie of group texts kept us all on our toes as we tried to predict what the Channel might have in store. Despite the uncertainty, spirits remained high; there is a certain magic to knowing you might be on the brink of an adventure, even if the details are still shifting beneath your feet.

Tuesday, 22nd July

There were endless lists to double-check, and every hour seemed to bring a new flurry of questions; Had we packed enough warm layers? Did anyone remember the sunscreen? What about spare goggles, extra towels, and the all-important refuelling food? Somewhere in the bustle, we traded jokes and tried to act nonchalant, but none of us could ignore the growing sense of significance. This was it—the eve of something we’d dreamed about and trained for, suddenly becoming very real.

As afternoon melted into evening, the group chat buzzed with photos of snack piles and nervous faces. Every message was tinged with both excitement and the tiniest thread of apprehension—would the weather hold? Would the forecast finally tip in our favour? And underneath it all, an unspoken hope: that the Channel would be kind.

Confirmation came at last at 20h00: confirmation that our window was opening, that it was time to gather ourselves for the journey. There was no grand announcement, no moment of cinematic drama—just a quiet message and the collective exhale of a team finally allowed to move from waiting to action.

As night crept in, I found myself lying in bed, wide awake, thoughts whirling with the rhythm of the waves I imagined we’d soon face. My mind replayed every checklist, every stroke practised in the pool, every pep talk shared with the team. Even the hum of life outside seemed to ebb and flow like the tide, as if the anticipation was spilling out beyond our little circle.

Wednesday, 23rd July

The alarm brutally woke me at 05h00. Time to take my first anti-seasick tablet. I stared at the ceiling for a moment, letting it sink in: today could be the day. Bags were already half-packed and lined up like little soldiers, waiting by the door. The enormity of what lay ahead pressed down, but underneath was a growing sense of resolve. This was why we’d put in so many cold, early mornings and late-night swims—this was the moment where all the uncertainty and nerves merged into purpose.

I showered (I don’t really know why, but it seemed like a good idea at the time), packed everything, and left the hotel to meet at the designated pier at 7:00. I arrived early, and soon the team began to arrive. We pulled all our bags out – it was a monumental amount of luggage. Dragging 8 litres of water around, a food bag, and a clothes duffel bag is not much fun for any distance.

Our team had been a little chatty at the parking area, but had got remarkably quieter as we got closer and closer to the boat. We met the boat pilot (Paul) and his number two (Jason). They helped us haul all our kit onto the boat, gave us a safety brief.

Soon, the gentle hush of the marina was replaced by a flurry of last-minute checks and the shuffle of feet on damp planks. With everything loaded, there was little left to do except wait for permission to depart, everyone glancing at the sky, half-expecting clouds to thicken or the wind to pick up. Yet the morning held, and the boat’s engine rumbled to life, vibrating through the soles of my shoes, a visceral promise that this wasn’t just another training day.

Suddenly, the reality of what lay ahead settled in. There were no more rehearsals, no more delays. The Channel awaited, indifferent to hope or fear.

We left Dover harbour, heading to Samphire Hoe. Simon, deemed our strongest swimmer, was to swim from our moored boat to the beach, step out of the waves, raise his arms, and wait for the boat’s horn to signal the start.

The pilot gave the signal. Simon—poised at the edge, breathed deep, and leapt into the sea, his cap a flash of colour against the blue-grey expanse. Cheers erupted from the deck; our collective energy now funnelled into the journey ahead.

Simon’s job was to get us out of the bay quickly, as we were starting at high tide’s slack. He left Samphire Hoe at 08:23 exactly. We had begun.

We, on the boat, waved to all our supporters who had managed to locate our boat from land. It was exhilarating as well as scary. After all those months of training, it was finally happening. I think that every one of us (except for Simon as he was already in the water) were hoping that we really could do our share of the hard work that was ahead of us.

We watched as Simon swam towards us knowing that once he got close, the boat would raise its anchor and now Simon must swim close enough to the boat so that we could have eyes on him at all times but never to touch the boat, as we would immediately be disqualified.

Bex, our Team Leader, managed the timing cards for changeover: “30 minutes,” “15 minutes,” and finally “5 minutes.”

Rachael, fighting seasickness from the start, clung to a bucket for hours, but the anti-seasick patches eventually helped. By her second swim, she’d stopped vomiting, though she still felt weak.

We clustered near the rail, fixated on the tiny colourful shape that was Simon’s cap, bobbing rhythmically with every stroke against the persistent swell. The boat tracked his progress, the crew working quietly but efficiently—Jason calling out distance checks, Paul fine-tuning our pace and bearing. There was a shared sense of holding our breath, as if the whole team was swimming each metre alongside him.

As the minutes slipped by, our nerves were channelled into small, practical tasks: checking gear, laying out energy bars and water bottles, mentally rehearsing our own changeover routines. The water, which at first had seemed innocuous, began to reveal its unpredictable temperament—swells pulling this way and that, the surface glinting as day broke fully over the horizon.

Every so often, Bex signalled the countdown with the placards, and we called encouragement over the water, our voices carried away by the breeze. The time passed in strange fragments—stretches of intense focus, sudden bursts of laughter, and long, silent moments watching the swimmer’s arms rise and fall.

Brad, next in the water, bounced restlessly on the balls of his feet, running over his mental checklist. We all checked and rechecked our own gear, determined to be ready when our turn came. The smell of salt and fuel mingled in the air, and the adrenaline that hummed through the group made everything feel sharper, more immediate.

As Simon’s hour drew to a close, the anticipation hit a fever pitch. We crowded the deck to see the changeover process begin, the choreography we had not been able to practice but now had to do. This was it: the relay was truly underway.

The ‘change-over’ consists of 1) the swimmer in the water moves quite close to the boat and to the rear. 2) the new swimmer descends the ladder at the back of the boat and stands on the platform until told that the sea swimmer has done his hour. The new swimmer then jumps into the water, moves behind and to the right of the ‘old’ swimmer. The ‘old’ swimmer then moves back towards the platform and ladder on the boat and gets onto the platform. The team on the boat can then yell for the new swimmer to commence swimming strongly, the boat moves forward and the old swimmer climbs up the ladder to get on the boat. Sounds easy doesn’t it!! Add a ton of adrenaline and yup, it's easy to get things wrong.

Brad surged and did a great swim, followed by Alana then Gia. Then it was time for yours truly to do her stint.

Let’s just backup a minute – I forgot to tell you about the water conditions. Initially the water in the bay was fairly quiet which enabled Simon and Brad to have some good swims. As we got closer to the Channel itself, it was beginning to get choppier. Alana had a good run but Gia got the first start of the choppy seas – and I was about to go in there too. Apparently, it’s pretty normal and it would settle down but even the boat was lurching around with difficulty.

Back to my turn. I was given the one-minute call so got near the gate to descend the ladder. Hat, ear-plugs, goggles – all in place and fitting well.

Down the ladder I went and stopped on the small platform. I heard the command to enter the water and off I jumped – hoping that I would not end up under the bounce of the boat as it was rocking a lot. Down I went into the water, seawater up my nose and of course, the surprise of the cool water. A quick gasp of breath, a swim behind Gia and then move out to the right. The next command was to ‘SWIM’ as Gia was on the platform and ready to ascend into the boat.

I put my head down and, for the first time, had to gauge how close I needed to swim to the boat, plus gauge the waves and the swell. The tension was high and after a few battled strokes, I had to stop and get my breath, slow my breath, check the distances and then start again. Not the best action for the boat pilot to steer his boat by.

Eventually, I managed to get going and tried not to over-exert myself as I still had 59 minutes to go. I found this swim difficult as there was no rhythm to the waves and I managed to drink much of the Channel. I think I also zig-zagged a lot, trying to understand how to stay the correct distance from the boat. Those first few minutes were quite dark for me – the waves seemed to slap me around, and I could only breathe on one side so that I could watch the boat. I felt very small in this very big ocean. The water was surprisingly clear and a beautiful blue. No jellies! It was at this point that I really did realise the enormity of what I was doing. The training is good, but it doesn’t actually prepare you for the mental strain of what I had just started. The mental pressure to not stop, being watched by 8 people (the team, Boat Leader, Pilots x2 and the Observer), understand the waves, plus the waves of the boat. The depth of the ocean didn’t worry me – I guess it was more my ability to swim constantly, consistently and with effort to push me through the water. I finally got one of my coaches into my head and eventually settled into pushing that water under and behind me. Phew!

Suddenly, Bex held up the 30-minute card. Wow – that had gone super-fast. I was confident that I could do the 60 minutes as well.

The 15-minute card took forever to be raised. I guess it had something to do with the fact that it was now about 13h00 and I had not actually eaten anything from the night before. In fact, none of us could eat as we were not hungry and just didn’t have time.

Eventually, the 5-minute card was held aloft. I was getting breathless again but mentally said “you can do this – dig deep – you only have 5 more minutes”. Those 5 minutes were relentless and never-ending. All I could do was swim and watch for the activity that would herald if Rachael or Simon would be getting in. That activity would mean that I only had 1 minute in the water left. Suddenly, I see Rachael carefully going down the ladder. I felt so sorry for her, having to swim after being so sick and feeling so terrible. I just hoped that she could do it. I slowed to move to the back of the boat, waited for Rachael to jump in, then finally I could get on the platform and haul myself out of the water. I was tired but I’d done the first hour!

One hour down – one (or maybe two) to go!!

The next 5 hours were consumed with me getting dressed, helping Rachael back on the boat and getting her dressed once her hour was over, followed by drinking lots of water, getting dressed for the next swim, eating a hot cross bun, drinking more water and then standing ready to enter the water again.

We were now very much in the Channel, and the water had turned glassy smooth. We had managed to watch some of the tracking and saw that we had gone very ‘high’ in the Channel with the tidal pulls. I overheard the Boat Pilot saying that we had to work hard in the next couple of hours overwise we were in danger of the tides turning when we got close to France and perhaps would not make it to shore! That stuck in my mind.

Second Swim

Off I went down the ladder again. The boat seemed to suddenly get very bouncy and when I tried to jump in, I managed the best belly flop of my entire swimming career!!! How embarrassing!

The water was clear, and this time I managed to get into my stride with ease. I reasoned that if I could really push hard, then I would not feel so bad about being the geriatric on board and hopefully feel a full member of the team. There were tons of jellyfish floating around, which I thought, “if you are gonna get stung, then so be it. None of these jellies are killers, so power through them”. I did. I THINK I did well. My heart rate was a constant 210bpm (not that I’m proud of that – it just happened to be that) and somehow, I managed a 1-mile stint in 20 minutes. Of course, most of this was assisted by the tide, so it’s really difficult to know exactly how good I did. The Observer chap did say that I did a good swim, so I’m guessing that I did not disgrace myself.

Again, the first 30 minutes went super-fast, the next 15 mins dragged, and the last 5 minutes seemed longer than all the time put together.

Finally, I saw Rachael getting ready to come down the ladder and I had a sigh of relief. Firstly because she was coming in (if we had had to put in Simon, the whole swim would have been disqualified according to the Channel Swimming Federation rules) and secondly; she would one day look back and know that she had achieved a huge fete more than she thought she could do – she just needed to believe in herself a little bit more, and 3rdly, I would very likely not be doing a third swim – yay!!!

So down Rachael came, we changed over, and I crawled up the ladder.

There was absolutely nothing left in my tank – I had given it my all. My coaches, Masters team members, friends, and supporters had got me through the last 7 months of training to this end.

Although I could hardly breathe, could hardly drag myself up the ladder, could hardly stand, I was very happy with my tenacity in this very big event in my life.

As I slumped onto the bench, still dripping and shivering, the realisation of what we were attempting began to settle heavily on our shoulders. The Channel, unpredictable and vast, seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction, its currents indifferent to our fatigue. The air on the boat was thick with a mix of exhaustion and anticipation—no one spoke much, each lost in private calculations of time, distance, and strength left in reserve.

Oddly, once everyone had completed their second swim, we were ravenous but still had trouble eating. Probably because you fear overeating and potentially cramping in the water. I, on the other hand, could munch, but I was careful …. Just in case I had to go in again.

So, Rachael completed her swim, and we pulled her out. What a trooper she had been. Simon was back in, the jellies were getting thicker, it was getting dark and then Brad went in. Finally, Alana was told to get ready for her final swim. She really didn’t want to do it (she was really feeling tired), but the Boat Pilot said that she would most likely be the person to complete the swim.

Eventually, Alana’s time came, and in the Channel she entered. Thirty minutes passed. Bex and the Boat Pilot decided not to tell her that 30 minutes had passed, as we were so close to the French beach. The boat moored and we told Alana to stop. We told her that the boat could not go any closer, the boat light beam showed her the shore and which direction it was. She turned and swam. What she didn’t hear was that Gia was going to swim with her (for safety) and land as well. Gia tried to sprint to catch Alana but it didn’t happen. Alana got to the beach, crawled up out of the water and then stood tall with her arms aloft, showing that she had landed. Gia joined her a minute or two later. They hugged and then headed back to the boat.

WE HAD DONE IT!!!!!!!!

As a team, we had surpassed the odds, the weather, the injuries, the training camps, the road incidents, the freezing cold qualifiers earlier in the year, our minds and our bodies. We have joined the history books of the small number of mixed teams that have successfully swam the Channel. As someone smarter than me said “nothing great was ever easy”. How true that is. This has tested my resolve many a time, I’ve learned that I can (sometimes) control my noisy, negative head, I can go to dark, lonely places and come back. I am stronger than I ever thought I was!

And …. As a team, WE SWAM THE ENGLISH CHANNEL in 14 hours, 38 minutes and 29 seconds!!!

Before I close off, I really want to thank all my supporters – the ones that got me to the swimming pool when I least wanted to go; those that watched me endlessly swim for miles while they waited for my return on a cold, windy beach; for those that have financially sponsored me – people that I’m not sure that I’ve even met; for that one person (she knows who she is) that insisted that I stay in the water when I misread the tides and wanted to get out and walk after 2 hours in the sea. For those who have given me advice and shared their invaluable knowledge of what I was about to commence. For everyone who has expressed an interest in what I’m doing and put up with my endless talking about it. For my teammates that tolerated this old, tired, geriatric person in their team; for those that attended the hamburger and cake sale on 1st January in freezing cold and windy weather; for those that made the Haggis Hunt such a wonderful success; for that person that ran a hugely successful afternoon tea party in aid of Aspire; and for those that I have forgotten.

And mostly to the person who got me involved in this adventure, even when I had no understanding of what I was getting myself into 🥰

I humbly thank you all!

THE END

Latest Update: July 2025

Last Training Session Prior to Channel Swim

Objective: The Aspire Charity Swimming Team were to ensure that we were 100% able to deal with whatever the Channel was going to throw at us. It was going to be extreme so that we felt like Kings and Queens – not goldfish. That ocean is vast and we had to be able to control our minds as well as our bodies so that we were not overwhelmed and would not crumble under the weight.

So, two days of swimming were ahead of us all.

Swim 1: 75 Minutes

25kph winds greeted us when we stepped onto the Dover beach. Tough was not gonna be an understatement for the day. Rains were due – in fact, I think thunderstorms were forecast.

Our briefing was given; we were told that due to the conditions, tow floats would be worn and we would only do a close circuit so that if anyone got into trouble, we were not far out in the harbour.

We peeled off our clothes, set our watches to record and entered the water. Immediately the fast swimmers swam away and I felt rejected. But, I put on my training head and got into a rhythm. I might be slow but I would be there in the end. Another one of my teammates was struggling – or appeared to be. I caught up to her and after checking that she was ok, I ploughed on. The current was tough on all four sides of the square that we were swimming, the waves continually slapped up around. Bilateral breathing was impossible – the water just poured in and choked us. It was going to be a stretch to complete 75 minutes without drowning.

But complete it we did! All of us finished (one threw-up on the beach) and the enormity of the day started to seep into our souls. We were quiet, we got dressed and started to refuel our bodies for the next onslaught. We looked at the sea and wished we were anywhere but Dover.

Swim 2: 75 Minutes

Off we went again. The wind gusts had increased to 35kph. The waves were tossing us around like paper in the water, we were swallowing litres of water, choking and coughing. This was certainly testing our resolve. I began to think that perhaps this Channel thing was too big for me. Needless to say, I dug deep and tried to find a rhythm. Due to trying not to ingest water meant that we needed to lift our heads high. This meant that our necks and shoulder muscles were taking a pounding. As I tried to keep my head low when exhaling and then coming up to take air, my cap started to come off. We are NOT allowed to swim without our caps, so amidst the waves and current, I had to put it back on without losing my goggles at the same time. Several gulps of water later, my goggles were back on my head with my cap underneath! Another two circuits around the bay and I’d finished.

Swim 3: 60-75 Minutes

Feeding over and back in for the final swim of the day. The wind had abated a little and the current had now settled and now we had two sides of the ‘square circuit’ that ran with us and two sides against us. Now this is something that I understood (rather like swimming on our Hythe beach away and back) and it gave me a chance to do some recovery in the water. Suddenly I felt strong. I got into my rhythm, put my head down and suddenly I was surging through the water. I passed a few people, my heart was behaving and my stroke felt wonderful. I decided to only do just over 60 mins as I knew that tomorrow was also going to be hard and I needed to conserve some strength. For some odd reason, I just felt so good – I hoped it would hold until tomorrow.

The team went out for a supper (yummy Italian and sod Slimming World for the night!)

Swim 4: 60 mins

The day started with rain, sore tongues, sore muscles and sleepy, tired people entering the water at 06h30. The wind had reduced and the water almost looked inviting. I had ‘lost’ my bloody useless hat in my bag so Aspire needed to find a replacement for me. I was late entering the water and went off too fast so ended up huffing and puffing with no rhythm so had to stop and gather myself. Eventually I got it together and wow – my banana breakfast kicked in and off I swam. Again, I felt super-human and surged through the water. In fact, I was doing so well that I ‘over-swam’ and did 75 mins instead of 60 mins. Ooops – my team leader was not impressed.

We now had a break to have breakfast, check-out of the hotel and get back for 10H30. Stupidly I ate some cooked breakfast as I was hungry and had a cuppa tea. That was going to haunt me.

Swim 5; 60 mins – LAST SWIM!

The last swim, in a wet costume as nothing had dried overnight but hell, I was about to get wet so how did that matter? Off we went but this time nothing worked. The water was calmer but my stomach was not. I couldn’t get into my stride and my heart was not in this swim. I struggled around the circuit and just did not have it in me to do another one. This swim was not mandatory (many people had already left for home) so I was not too worried about completing it. I completed the circuit with the words “I’m soooo OVER Dover!” and managed not to bring back my breakfast ☹.

So, in review I’ve swum 14,765km (9.17 miles) in just over 5 hours with approximately 8,700 strokes! – all in one weekend.

I’ve learned that I’m number 5 in the team. Our date to jump on our boat to start the swim is around the 24th July, depending on weather conditions and currents – and I guess the moon might have something to do with it too.

I’ll send out the tracker details as soon as I know the date so you can follow our progress. I feel that I am as prepared as I possibly can be. If you see me sprinting along the beach, give me a wave and come and join me. It’s great swimming with company.

Until the 24th ish 😊

June 2025

Part of making sure that we are all prep’d and ready for the BIG SWIM, we have to pass several ‘qualifiers’. There was the first one in November 2024 at the overheated London indoor swimming pool – passing this one meant that I was in a channel crossing team, but I had a lot of work to do.

The next one, in June 2025, was when we (the Foxes team) needed to swim in Dover Harbour for 30 minutes, followed by a 90-minute swim, and then a 40-minute swim in a sea temperature of about 11 °C. The next day was a 45-minute swim followed by a break of 1-hour-30 and finally a swim of 30 minutes. You may remember that we did not complete the final swim due to the extreme cold and the subsequent health and safety issues that were raised.

This weekend was the 3rd ‘qualifier’. The plan was: Day 1: be at Dover Harbour as we would do a ‘taster boat’ session. This basically is for the team to go on one of the boats that will be guiding us. We would leave the harbour and practice the ‘change-over’ between each swimmer. The weather was too windy and wet so this was scrapped. Boo hoo!

Instead, we decided to attempt our next ‘qualifier’. This was a 1hr30min swim, a break of 1hr30mins to get warm and refuel and then back in the water for 1 hour. The sea temperature had to be below 16 °C.

Everyone was VERY apprehensive as this was a long time, and the water was only 14 °C. The wind was choppy and we expected squally rains. We had been advised to bring wet-weather gear and be prepared for wet clothes.

At 11h00, we entered the water. It was choppy, cold and had quite a swell. I dropped back to the back as I’m not good at swimming in groups. Immediately, I was slapped in the head a few times and quickly learned to only breathe on one side. We basically swim in a big square in the harbour – yup, the same harbour that the ferry and cruise liner boats play in.

The first hour was ok – not great but OK. That last 30 minutes were cold and boring as the water became increasingly choppier. I ploughed on and finally the 90 minutes were up.

One great thing about being so cold is that when you get out of the water, you cannot feel your feet, so the pebbles on the beach don’t hurt too much!!! – Well, they do. It just takes longer for your brain to realise it!

So one swim down, one to go.

We all helped each other change (yeah I know – not a good look) but the weather was closing in and we needed to get warm asap before going back in. Our bodies were never going to rise to normal temperature, but it would be warmer, ready to drop again.

One of our team members (Rachael) had caught a bug and also suffers from motion sickness, so she had not been able to complete her swim – she would try again tomorrow (Saturday). Several others had also struggled and not completed the initial session. It was proving tough.

Suddenly our break was over, and we headed back into the choppier and bigger swell waters. Fresh dry costumes, colder feet, but the end was in sight (for this day at least). We ventured into the turmoil, and surprisingly, due to the swell, it was almost warmer but most certainly not easier to swim. I was about 20 minutes into the swim and just wasn’t making any headway. I was about to give up and try again the next day when some other (slow) swimmers came alongside me and invited me to join them. Without them, I can truly say that I would have given up. The three of us plodded around the course, cursing the day I signed up for this event. I tried to find music to play in my head, counted my strokes, thought of all the support I had received but nothing made it easier.

Finally, the 1-hour was up! I had completed the qualifier! All three of us in our team had completed both swims and were through to the next round. What a relief! – I didn’t even mind the diesel moustache that I had acquired during the swim (see photo).

How welcome my tea and sandwich were, along with the thickest clothes we could pile on. I had survived and finally could relax ……. Until the next day.

Boy; did I sleep well that night after a team supper at the local Italian restaurant – with a sneaky glass of wine 😊.

Saturday, 7th July

Due to deteriorating weather conditions at Dover, Aspire management moved the next ‘qualifier’ session to Herne Bay. We had two people in our team who still needed to pass their swims. Those who had passed yesterday (me) had to do a one-hour swim to complete our weekend, but this was more to get us used to doing several swimming stints rather than a ‘test’.

I, plus one other ‘fox’, set off from the hotel and almost arrived at the meeting point, but found a cyclist on the side of the road. We were the first people on the scene and the poor cyclist was in a poor state. Due to us waiting for the police and ambulance, we were going to miss the first swim of the day, but this was more important (we later found out that he had broken his femur, so you can imagine the pain he was experiencing).

Eventually, we got away and joined the Aspire Group. Both our team members had completed their 1-hour 30-minute swims, but poor Rachael was not feeling great.

We all went in for the final one-hour swim. Bliss!! The temperature was 15.8 °C with clear water and a lovely, friendly rolling swell. It was almost beautiful 😊. I stayed with Rachael to encourage her to stay in the water for the full hour, so there was totally no pressure on me to go fast or swim non-stop (which I find hard). We watched a couple of moon jellyfish float under us, so it was a lovely, lovely experience.

Eventually we got out. We had all passed!!

Once we had got warm clothes on, had tea, taken the obligatory selfies, it was out to a Turkish restaurant with our lovely Team Lead, Rebekah. She is so inspirational, knowledgeable and kind. She knows how to build a TEAM.

Sunday, 8th June 2025

We were back in Dover and just did a one-hour swim. This was again to get us used to doing more and more one-hour swims. It felt colder and I gotta admit, it’s not my favourite place to swim.

So another weekend is over, and another stage has been passed. This is no small endeavour, but I’m feeling confident that we will all get through it, along with your amazing support.

Next qualifier??? Early July, with the actual crossing scheduled for late July. Watch this space!!!

Thanks for reading this – let me know if you have any questions.

See ya on the beach xxx

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11 May 2025 - Day 2 of our First Training Camp

We arrived early for the safety briefing, although most people were still a little tired from yesterday's sessions. The day looked calm, but every minute from 08h30 onwards, the wind was gathering and making the water choppy.

We were scheduled to do a 45-minute swim, 1hr30 out of the water getting warm and taking on refuelling food, then the final session was for 30 minutes.

Off we all went. The going was tough - choppy and smacking us around. I headed to the first buoy, which seemed to take forever. My body/muscles were definitely feeling the effort from yesterday. Onwards we ploughed. Halfway around our course, I noted that the paddleboard safety person was going back to the beach with a person on board. Poor girl I thought but ploughed on.

I was around the course and back to the first buoy so felt that I had made up time from my poor start (even though I'm definitely one of the slower swimmers). At 45 minutes we were all called in and back to the beach.

Upon getting out of the water, it was obvious that the girl on the paddleboard was now on the beach and not doing well. An ambulance was called, and she was placed in it - still unconscious.

In respect of the poor girl, the organisers agreed that the second swim would be abandoned. We all kinda had a sense of relief as the water was kicking up stronger, even though the scheduled swim was only for 30 minutes.

We have subsequently heard that our poorly swimmer has recovered and has been discharged from hospital - phew. It just goes to show that without the right preparation, you cannot do this swim. A lesson I'm taking on board!!! And will be upping my training.

Our team (the Aspire Foxes) were awesome. They are super fast (not me!) and real care-bears. They had helped the struggling swimmer in the water and were great at helping each other get warm as soon as possible after getting out. Not one judgmental person in our bunch.

I'm also so thankful for all the kind words of encouragement that I have received from you all - they certainly sustained me in the difficult, early part of this morning's swim. I cannot thank you all enough 🥰.

Our next training weekend is on the 6th and 7th June - real tough sessions. With you all behind me, I'm sure I will complete them, albeit a little slower than many of my fellow swimmers.

The Aspire team were awesome in their organisation of the weekend as well as dealing with the emergency. I'm so glad that I'm with them. It will be a life-remembering experience!

I'll let you know how things go on the next training weekend 😊🥰. Once again thanks for all your wonderful support! 🏊‍♀🏊‍♀🏊‍♀🏊‍♀

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10 May 2025 - Day 1 of our First Training Camp

Hi everyone,

This weekend I needed to be at Dover harbour for 2 swims per day - this is to ensure that we are acclimatised to the sea water.

Today was almost perfect weather - great sunshine with a small swell. Waves were low but snappy!

The first swim was for 30 minutes. I didn’t do well. Couldn’t get into my stride, so I wasn’t able to complete the whole circuit. I felt disappointed.

The second swim was 90 minutes later, and this time for 40 minutes. Did much better in this swim. I completed the first circuit and then some. Didn’t feel cold at all.

I'm not sure what holds for tomorrow, but I’ve heard that the swims (2 again) will be longer than today.

I just need to get my head in the right place.

I’ll keep you all posted 🤩🤩

Thanks for all your support - means the world to me 🥰

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13 March 2025 - Madhatters Tea Party

It was a totally wonderful afternoon tea party that Julie arranged and did all the work for. A lovely bunch of ladies arrived and were so generous in donating to Aspire. A couple of ladies were actually Observers on Channel Swim boats way back in the day; how lovely to meet them and for them to share their experiences—and for me to learn from those experiences.

Training is going well. I'm about to swim my next 1 mile timed swim to see if the training is making me faster - watch this space!

25 January 2025

Haggis Hunt Fundraiser was a HUGE success. Overall we raised £680!!! We had a tense hunt for the wee beesties, finally finding a baby hiding along with a big daddy haggis! Both were suitably culled and devoured along with neeps and 'taties. All this was followed by the most wonderful Cranachan and homemade shortbread - totally delicious!!

Much fun and laughter was had by all (did this have anything to do with the wee dram that we all had???!).

I'm getting closer to that target amount for Aspire.

Many thanks to all the helpers who made the day happen :)

18 January 2025

So, I have met up with my fellow teammates and our Team Leader, Rebekah. What a fabulous team we make. I suspect we will all become great friends and will support each other during this hard, scary and uncomfortable journey ... to the end.

The 3 musketeers are now .... the 6 musketeers!!

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Old age and cold water swimming have finally addled my brain!

On 24th July (weather permitting), I’ll be part of a six-person relay team - the "Aspire Foxes" - attempting to swim the English Channel.

Starting from Dover, we’ll take turns braving the cold, the currents, sea sickness and jellyfish, all to make it to France. It’s a huge challenge for all of us, but, apart from bragging rights, we’re doing it for an incredible cause.

I aim to raise at least £2,500 (yes, a HUGE amount) for Aspire, a charity that helps people with spinal cord injuries live more independently. Aspire provides vital resources, from accessible housing to rehabilitation support, assisting people to rebuild their lives after injury. Every donation makes a real difference.

I will be running several events to raise funds before I venture into the cold blue sea in July 2025.

Hopefully, you never need to contact this charity but for those that do, this is an invaluable charity, giving people back their lives.

Thanks a bunch