As I write this post I am nursing a nasty headache which has refused to shift all afternoon...I've tried the nurofen approach, the go to bed and sleep it off approach and even the pressure point pinch approach (which I was introduced to last week by my lovely friend Helen)...this involves squeezing the buggery out of the point between your thumb and the closest finger (is that the index finger?) as this apparently relieves headaches...it worked earlier in the week but is not having such an affect today.
Where has this headache originated you ask? Well, today was D-Day in my ocean-swimming calender, the Cole Classic event which I have been "training" for over the last few months. My journey this time around has bit a bit of a shamozzle...I didn't gel with the group very well (my social anxiety played a part but it was also because of some failings in the leadership of the pod) and by mid January I was feeling very stressed about having to show up for training with people I thought were dicks and didn't really enjoy being around...and given this activity was supposed to be contributing to me feeling GOOD about myself I decided that something had to give and I dropped out of the programme.
Although this meant that I wouldn't be part of the "group", it didn't mean that I hadn't fulfilled my commitment to raising funds for Cancer research and I was still planning on doing the Cole. As the weeks have passed I had talked myself out of the latter and even as late as Friday had decided to ignore the cap, timing chip and ankle band hanging on my desk whiteboard and just let the day pass without participating.
As is often the case with moi - a person of occasional bouts of procrastination followed by rapid-fire action, that all changed yesterday when I decided that I really had nothing to lose...so I pulled my head out of the sand, metaphorically washed the grit out and put into place our action plan to get down to the beach early with my support crew in place.
Unfortunately the parking fairy was distracted this morning and our plans to converge on Manly beach as a family unit were scuppered. Instead I was dropped off, feeling nervous and self conscious as I stripped down to my cossie and walked around to Shelley to wait for my "wave" to be called. Due to the aborted family plan, this involved standing around in the heat for over an hour with no hat and thus I think that irrespective of my 2km of gruelling ocean swimming the die was cast before I even dipped my toe in the water....headache of epic proportions!
Fate was shining on me though as I stood in the blistering sun as I was approached by my lovely compatriot from last years Cole, the angel that is Liz (that would be another Liz not me having a headache induced out of body moment). She recognised me standing forlornly on my own and we agreed to stick together and conquer the Cole together again. It was so lovely to have someone so pleased to see me and throughout the swim she continually checked I was doing okay and reality is if she hadn't been hanging back to stay with me she would have done a much faster time.
I swam quite comfortably for the 1st few "cans" and was using two different mantra's to distract myself from thinking too much about the distance - "I can do it" and "I love swimming"....they worked a treat until we got to the 3rd buoy and I started to feel a little nauseous...figuring I just needed a good burp I kept on swimming and despite a few said burp's, the nausea didn't pass. Finally as we approached the 2nd last buoy I felt that familiar sensation from last year's Palm to Whale...the infamous upchuck in the deep! This time I have to say I felt really bad and the retching was very painful, my stomach cramps made me feel miserable and once again I had the aid of an understanding bloke on a surf ski to offer me his condolences and the lovely Liz to hold my hand whilst the retching continued.
For a moment, I did voice the idea of going in on the surf ski but within another minute I felt things settle and having been in this situation last year I knew that I could go on...so with another pat on the hand from Liz and encouragement from the surf ski bloke I took off knowing I had one more 'can' to round before I would be swimming for shore.
As we approached the break, Liz reminded me to look behind lest I get unceremoniously dumped on the way in, we got to shore and gave each other a huge hug before holding hands and running up the sand through the gate to finish.
It was not my finest hour in a swimming sense, I was completely buggered but it was nonetheless a truly golden moment, one that I think gets to the heart of Henry Miller's quote which you may recall I talked about when I started this process.
Upchucking in the ocean is something I would prefer to avoid in future so I'm considering if my ocean swimming career should face early retirement...in the meantime I'm savouring my golden moment and nursing my headache with a smile on my face.
I should also include a postscript that Saint Mike and the girls were incredibly proud of mummy when they picked me up at our rendezvous point and even though they weren't there in person they are always my rocks!
