Finally! After weeks of obstacles (working 13 hour days and managing to lose most of my pictures among them), I’ve managed to pull together a slide show of my English Channel swim. I know I’ve got more somewhere – thankfully my dad are both stepping up to help me locate and gather everything together. Goal for next week – publish the “extended version.”
For now, though, I hope you enjoy this photo flashback to my experience in Dover!
When you start to dabble in the stuff of adventure, you start to meet all kinds of interesting people. Prior to getting involved yourself, you’d definitely say they were crazy. Bonkers. Missing a few marbles. What kind of person actually derives pleasure in subjecting their body to extreme conditions, putting themselves through some 
masochistic test of the human ability to endure?
Answer? All kinds. Young, old, great athletes, average athletes, wealthy, not so wealthy…
There is a common feeling of camaraderie fostered in places like the Dolphin Club that can be summed up in the words of my dear friend Reuben Hechanova: “We are all equal opportunity supporters of crazy people.” It’s funny how we all seem eager 
to jump up and help our comrades fulfill their dreams of self-torture. The South End Club is the same way. When you’re in an environment like this, where people not only understand the extreme but encourage it, it’s weird how “crazy” quickly becomes “cool.”
You want to swim from Alcatraz to Aquatic Park in shackles? Awesome! I’ll pilot you!
You want to swim continuous trips around Alcatraz and back for 8 hours, dodging huge cargo ships in one of the 
busiest shipping channels over and over again? Sweet! Wish I’d thought of that. Can I do one of the laps with you?
You want to swim the English Channel? Go for it! I’ll meet you here at 4am on a Saturday and we’ll do a 4 hour swim in the dark to get you ready.
You want to swim 40 miles in 3 days in 50 degree water in the middle of winter? Great! I’ll spend most of my Christmas vacation making you hot drinks to warm 
you up.
When you’re with people who “get it,” the impossible becomes possible, both because you alter your perspective AND because you discover a cult of people who actually want to get up early/freeze outside in the wind/swim beside you/fetch you food/sit in a row boat for hours/get wet/coach you through the lows/spend their entire day forgetting about their own comforts and goals all to help you. They’ve been there, and they know what it’s like. People were there for them. Now you need them, and you know it…and there they are, supporting you every step, stroke, or pedal of the way. It’s pretty rad.
Beware, though…once you take that first step into madness, once you feel the thrill of adventure, you open a Pandora’s Box of possibilities. Without realizing it, you become one of the crazies.
And man, does it feel good.
Meet Bill Bradley, a gregarious, 40-something new member of the Dolphin Club who has a huge grin on his face at all times.
Even when his body is shaking with early-stage hypothermia after a 6 hour swim in the 60 degree waters of Aquatic Park.
For the second time in 6 days.
Bill is no stranger to physical anguish. In fact, looking over his history (and his motto, the title of this post) you might start to question his sanity. He started running marathons and competing in Ironmans in 1996. Okay, both are pretty tough, but no biggie. Lots of people do that sort of thing. Start talking 100 mile ultramarathons and 500 mile bike races rent with hallucinations from sheer fatigue, though, and the 
population of willing participants drops off pretty quick. Now move those ultramarathons to Alaska (towing a 40 pound sled) and Death Valley (where people run on the white lines in the road so their shoes don’t melt), and -
- You have GOT to be KIDDING me!! (<– My reaction to discovering that people actually do this sort of thing).
PS. He’s also done triple Ironmans (as in 3 times the distances of normal Ironmans). Yeah.
Bill isn’t the fastest swimmer. He hasn’t been swimming in cold water for the past year. Or even the past 3 months. But he says he wants to swim the English Channel, and dog-gone it, he’s gonna do it. Whatever it takes. And with the way he’s attacking the 
Bay, my money’s on him to succeed.
Bill and I are on the same neap tide (September 24 through October 3), and we are both Position 2 with different pilots (so we’re likely to swim on the same day). If you have a sec, take a look at his website and give him a shout-out – he’s a real swell guy!
The week following my 5 hour swim, my right shoulder decided to have an attitude problem (again). This shoulder thing is getting to be pretty reliable – every few months, I hit a groove in my training, and BAM! I’m abruptly forced to take a week or two out of the water until one or both of my shoulders are happy again.
As any athlete will confess, when we are prevented from participating in the sport that we love, we tend to get a little…cranky. And maybe a touch more emo than usual. Sure, we cross train and rehab and all that. But every day, the positive attitude erodes 
a smidge. A little over a week into my 2 week aquatic suspension, I was going into chlorine and salt withdrawls, and it wasn’t pretty. An intervention was required, stat.
Hola, Ensenada!
Neal and I hopped a plan to San Diego, picked up a Mustang convertible, and drove down 150 miles of beautiful Mexican coastline to the tiny town of La Bufadora. We set up camp in a tiny clearing on the edge of a cliff looking out on the beautiful Pacific ocean, grabbed some fins, and scrambled down the cliff to the water. I pretended to be a mermaid (no arm strokes allowed!) as we swam along the rocky coast, waving at fishermen and exploring kelp beds and inlets.
After another quick dive the next morning, we hopped back in the Mustang and drove up to visit my family in Huntington Beach.
The next day, I decided to test my shoulder. We spent morning swimming around the island channels in my childhood neighborhood, marveling at the beautiful waterfront homes. Neal, my dad, and I all swam, and my mom accompanied us on her waveski. It was a blast! The water was deliciously warm, the sun was shining, and it took me about an hour and a half to swim what would normally take me about 45 minutes because I kept popping my head up to look around and chat. I was just enjoying being in the water on such a lovely day with people I love.
I came back from the 3 day vacation refreshed, upbeat, and mentally in a much better place. Sometimes you just need to escape to realize that really, you can deal with it. And you will get back.
If you’re patient. And believe.
My 5 hour swim on Saturday was incredible! I had a blast, and I realized that I’m the luckiest girl ever. I had so many wonderful people out supporting me – check out the support team breakdown:
In the Farrell – Reuben (Senior Pilot and navigator), Neal (Co-pilot and chef), and Daddy (photographer and videographer)
In the Arias – Dave (Captain and boat deflector), Mom (head cheerleader and occasional commando), and Old Grand Dad (champion open water swimmer and Laurin Fan).
We started at the Dolphin Club at 8:05am and headed toward the Bay Bridge. Neal and my parents prepared a wonderful surprise for me in the form of large poster boards with uplifting or funny messages written on them. Neal or my dad flashed them at me often during the swim. So freakin’ cool!
30 minutes into the swim, I found my stride, and started flying. The water was warm! 57-58 degrees, warm enough such that my hands did not splay for the entire swim! After months of swimming with claws for hands, that alone was super exciting.
We passed under the Bay Bridge and continued on toward AT&T Park. The sun came out from behind the clouds as we rounded the bend, and the stadium loomed above us, breathtakingly beautiful from the water.
Everything just went perfectly. Neal warmed up my GU before putting it into the GU Gel Bot (an awesome contraption that allows you to have GU and a drink of your choice in the same vessel), so for the first time I was able to actually able to get the GU out of the Gel Bot and decreased my feeding time to about 25 seconds. My friends and family cheered me on for the entire 5 hours, clapping, waving signs, laughing, making me feel strong and happy. Dave made sure no boats ran me over. The sun came out 2 hours in, warming my back as I swam. I felt fast, I felt strong, I felt warm, and I felt loved. I couldn’t help but smile as I swam.
Our only mishap was misjudging the currents – I ended up swimming into a very strong flood current. But hey, fighting a crazy current is good training, too.
I’m humbled to know that so many people care about me and want to see me reach my goals. It’s amazing how fun training can be when you have such a plethora of love and support. A huge thank you to all of my supporters on Saturday!!