Swimming the English Channel

 Swimming across the English Channel with a team was a fantastic experience. 68km pacing 1min27 for 16h39 with a team of 5. Solo are a different kind of fish, it's a pretty individual experience, and for my second time in a relay, the experience is entirely different. Thanks to Specsavers and my team, who supported me in my challenge.

 

It wasn't just about the fundraising for Cancer care west; we raised €5000, but also about all the children who spend a lot of time in the children's hospitals worldwide. I grew up and went to school in a children's hospital, I was supposed to be paralysed at 35, and Now at 44, I achieved things I never thought I would. I promised some that I would wear a 'superman' hat for them, and I did in one of the swims, along with my Galway Swimming Club hats for all the young swimmers I coach weekly. It wasn’t an easy journey.
 
You have to work as a team; when one is not doing well, you have to lift them up. Waiting on the boat for your turn is anxiety to perform on the next swim; your team is there to support you for the best and the worst. You have to compromise, share food, and watch for each other. It’s a different experience than a solo and too often diminished. I loved it, and it was more painful than expected, but swimming across the channel from early morning to the next day, arriving in the dark on French soil, on my knees, was terrific. The hardship of team building toward the event was brain-breaking, our third attempt (plus 3 more attempts as a solo swimmer). The preparation was long, years long. Keeping a team going for that long, including during the pandemic, was difficult. These many years-long ventures with many personal stories include a chlorine poisoning experience a few years back, ending up in intensive care with a 7.1 overdose of chlorine in a 24h continuous swim event. A few surgeries, including an ankle reconstruction and many others too long to talk about.
 
From the Red Arrows flying above our heads, seals and dolphin swimming along us, and jellyfish. We passed some of the biggest boats in the world, followed by a sunset and a super moon. Regardless of the boat breaking down, letting us drift, we witness the 14th of July fireworks on the coast of Calais to finish in the pitch dark on the coastline of Wissant, a famous second world war historical town. As a veteran Captain, it had some meanings.
 
The summary would be to keep the faith and chin up, but maybe be resilient with a positive approach to all the challenges we face in life.

More photos of my journey can be found here: https://photos.app.goo.gl/V67fziR5iRQbZx9H8