
The day was overcast...a few drops of rain. The river flow was unbelievably strong. I knew walking to the start that I hadn't a chance of winning, but that was okay with me. I just wanted to do my best...to enjoy being one of the few people who can say they have swam through the centre of Dublin. The mood was light, but jittery. Everybody has waited an entire year for this day, and now that it's here, we don't really know how to respond. So light conversation distracts us; getting ready scares us. But we do it, because it is almost time for us to go off.
My handicap was 7 minutes, and I went off with Rachel Lee who is, by the way, doing a 2-way channel relay later this month with the Dublin Fire Brigade. (Best wishes!!!) Rachel and I were talking about swimming...how she had just done a night swim and how scary it was for her. I couldn't comment because I haven't done one yet. But I'm sure I'll be terrified as well. The girl before us left, and we were the lone swimmers waiting for Joe to set us off. The cameras were there, so we grabbed hands and posed as if we were more than just competitors; we were friends as well. (I love good sportsmanship!) I did a last-minute adjustment of the goggles, swung my arms all over the place, kept moving, and then 5...4...3...2...1...GO! I leapt into the air like nobody's business. Apparently, I was smiling, as you saw in the picture from today's Sunday Times.
I went out strong. Really strong. It was cold, but I knew the race was short; I would not be cold for long. I pumped my legs as if I were doing a 100 metre sprint, not a 2.2km swim in a freezing river. My goal was to go out fast. And I believe I did that well. Before I could even get into a steady stroke rhythm, I was at Ha'penny Bridge. O'Connell St. bridge was coming, and again, before I knew it, I was going under the smallish arch in the centre of the river in the centre of Dublin. O'Connell bridge is the widest bridge...almost 50 metres of pitch-black, I believe. (Don't quote me on that!) I sprinted with every ounce of energy remaining in my system, for I do not like to swim when I cannot see a thing. Just keep swimming. I saw the light, sprinted toward it, and re-emerged in the bright, albeit cloud-covered sun.
Knowing I had won fastest time, I relaxed a bit and enjoyed the remainder of the race. I sprinted for the pontoon, not really catching anybody or giving anybody a race. Fine by me...I was seconds away from completing my 2nd Liffey Swim. I touched, did my best to avoid the mayhem at the sinking pontoon, grabbed a ticket, and got out of harm's way. (It was a bit chaotic, but that's not the focus of my entry so just take it as I write it.) I got out, a bit shaken up as I had gone under the pontoon and had received a bit of a fright. But all was well, and all is well.
I am honoured to have the opportunity to swim and be amongst a lively and welcoming crowd that is Leinster open sea swimming. Never in my life would I have imagined myself taking part in such a crazy sport, but I am, and it is a wonderful sport in which to be involved. I should also mention that my channel training partner, Charles Harper, won the men's race! I am delighted for him! I have done some longer swims with him, and know he's going to do amazing next year when he also takes on the challenge. Way to go Charles!
So, the sea swims are over. Another year put down in history. Another season made up of memories and sessions in the pub. I am hopeful yet melancholic. I don't want it to end, but it has. It's time to head back to the pool for swimming galas and hard, arduous training for next year. It's not going to be a walk in the park, but I know it's worth it. I will be fit next year. I will be ready to take on anything...including a little swim from England to France. And at least I have the rest of my life ahead of me for swimming. I probably have 60+ more Liffey Swims to complete. I've barely scratched the surface of the sea swimming life, and that is a lovely thought indeed.
Yours,
jgal