LOUGH GILL 10K SWIM FOR NW HOSPICE
When the late Neill McGarry was in the throes of his cancer battle he turned to his uncle Paul and said: “This is like running a marathon, finishing it and getting up the next day to run another marathon.”
And so when it came to setting up an event in his nephew’s memory, Paul McGarry knew it had to be ‘slow and arduous, something that would make you want to give up, that would test you mentally and physically.’
“When I think about Neill and his struggle with cancer I remember how hard he fought. He battled the disease for two long years,” recalls Paul.
The idea for the 10k Lough Gill swim to raise funds for the North West Hospice who looked after Neill so well was the perfect tribute therefore to his struggle, to his life.
“When you are turning your arms over 10,000 times in the cold water with a few kilometres to go before the finish line you know all about it,” says Paul who has completed the gruelling challenge a number of times. He set up the swim in 2011 and the charity event has grown bigger and better year on year.
I remember reading about it for the first time when I joined The Sligo Champion five years ago. It captured my imagination then and has held my interest ever since. So much so, that I’ve signed up as a ‘hardy’ swimmer this year - for my sins!
The 10k swimmers can be in the water from 2.5 hours to more than 5 hours. I expect to be towards the later end of that scale. But as Paul says: “Some swimmers get in and fly home in 2 and a half hours and they are amazing but others come in at 5 hours. They are the ones that I really admire. They test themselves to the limit.”
He is not wrong there. Even training for this massive task knocks the wind out of you at times. Like last Sunday when at the end of a 7k swim Parkes Castle which was only a few hundred meters away might as well have been on the other side of the world.
Three hours earlier I along with my swimming buddy Brian entered the choppy waters beside the Leitrim landmark. My trusty kayaker David with his bright yellow boat and winning smile was instructed to stop us every 25 minutes for ‘fuel.’
Fuel comes in the form of mars bars, fruit pastilles, jaffa cakes and other sugary treats. I wonder sometimes do I put on more calories than I lose during a session!
The rain was lashing down. No better place to be than in the lake on a morning like that. Our Kayaker had mapped out a route bringing us out into the open water and towards the famous Isle of Inisfree.
There followed what felt like four seasons in one day as various weather fronts passed by. When the sun breaks through the dark lake lightens. Any bit of encouragement - especially from the elements - is welcome. Wind can be a friend or an enemy. Against you, as it was last Sunday morning, it is a hard slog and will add time onto your swim. At one stage the chop was so intense it felt like swimming in a washing machine. I focused on simply getting my breath where I could, keeping my elbows high and trying not to swallow too much water. There’s no doubt though that negotiating strong currents keeps it interesting.
Once through the exposed part of the lake which is a major chunk of the race route, the water was calmer. Circling the Isle of Inisfree I tried to recite Yeat’s poem in my head while thinking how nice it would be to ‘arise and go,’ get out of the water and build a little hut on the tiny isle in which to lie down and sleep. Tiredness was beginning to take hold. The heavens opened again but the wind had died down and what was left of it was at our back. Thank God!
There are moments during a long swim when you question your own sanity. You ask ‘How could I have thought this was a good idea?’ Every muscle aches. You wonder where you will find the strength to continue. Then you think about the goal you set, the money you’ve raised, and the people lying in the North West Hospice who would give anything to be where you are now.
I have never taken on a physical sporting or mental challenge like this before and I want to see if I have the inner strength to complete the task. If successful, this will be one of my greatest achievements. I’m also doing this for my two-year-old daughter, to show her that when we put our minds and more importantly our hearts into something, anything is possible.
So when the doubt sets in I try to look for positives. And swimming in serene surroundings especially when the water is glassy feels special. A rainbow may appear framing the lake and you realise exactly why such a spot inspired poetic genius.
I look also to my kayaker whose enthusiasm for our swimming is infectious. ‘You’re doing great’ he tells as we munch on mars bars afraid to ask what the distance is now? The disappointment when he says 2.6 kilometres or 3.7 is hard to explain. You don’t need to ask him if it’s 5k or more. Your body can calculate that on its own. When the twinge becomes a definite ache you can safely assume 6k is fast approaching.
What of the 10k? Never swim a full marathon before race day. I’m assured a heady mix of adrenalin and momentum on Saturday will get us home. And of course the support of your kayaker. As Paul McGarry says: “It is a team effort. I was struggling during the swim in my skins one year. I remember saying to my kayaker ‘I think I’m done.’ He looked down at me and said ‘ you will be done if I hit you with this paddle, get your skates on.’”
The Kayaker also guides the individual swimmers along the route from the start point at Parkes Castle to Doorly Park. “They will spot the points of reference for you and will be your eyes. They can help to keep you swimming straight,” explains Paul. But he warns that swimming in a direct line is difficult and most swimmers add hundreds of metres each year by criss-crossing in the water. I know that feeling. I’m one of them. My kayaker will do his job, I’ll just have to do my best to row in behind him. I know one thing for sure - after Saturday’s swim if I never see his bright yellow kayak again it will be too soon!