Photos from the Channel Swim




























































































































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We made it!! Graham reflects...

Part 1 The team gathered in Ovingdean for a final briefing on Saturday afternoon. Paul M-T, Steve’s little bigger brother, had secured a swanky van for the mountain of kit and Mandy ‘Miss Rickmansworth 1992’ M-T had ordered enough food to last us a month in case the Atlantic current got hold of us. Raphael Ruz turned up with every bit of BC electronic surveillance equipment that was at his disposal. The dietary requirements for each phase of the journey were discussed in minute detail as well as the whistling and whiteboard signals that would keep us informed of our progress. A decision was made on the circumstances that would dictate that the attempt would be abandoned. It was decided that if one of us was unconscious in the water that we would call off the attempt. This really helped to boost my confidence. Off we drove to meet with Pete ‘the crab’ Reid, our pilot (a crab fisherman for the majority of the year) and his son, Pete ‘the limpet’ Reid. We arrived after minimal slee
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Embrace the cold.

Picture the scene: it’s minus 2 degrees and pitch dark; there’s a hefty wind chill factor blowing across Brighton beach from the north; the only others awake as we cycle down to the sea are wrapped up in huge coats, scraping ice off their windscreen; the pebbles on the beach are frozen together; and we are about to strip down to our speedos and get in another sea swim before school starts for us both. Why? It’s the question most commonly asked of us, and the question we have probably most commonly asked ourselves. The quick answer is that we’re training for our Channel swim. A huge chunk of those who fail in the Channel do so because the cold takes them down, so we’re hoping our regular winter sea swims will stand us in good stead. But, the question remains: why? It can feel utterly horrendous, as if your skin is burning and freezing all at once. Some of our early swims left us shaking and shivering on the beach, fumbling with zips on coats and desperately trying to pull glove
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It's all in the mind.

In any sort of endurance event, we all know that - at a certain point - 'it is all in the mind'; the moment when your limbs or lungs are already hurting, you have been contemplating stopping for ages, and something 'in the mind' keeps you going, keeps you from stopping. Determination, willpower, drive, grit - it's all in the mind. In long-distance swimming, more so - I think - than other long-distance events, the battle within those 'top two inches' is not just about keeping going; it's also about managing both the boredom and the strange wanderings of the mind to ensure that the stroke remains efficient and effective. We must add to the 'determination and drive' a strange cocktail of random, confused and bizarre musings which are also 'all in the mind' when swimming for a long time. Consider this section of internal monologue from our recent 2-hour qualifying swim in the sea off Brighton beach: "Ok, off we go. Two hours. Two h
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