The Urge

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My journey into swimming began with my daughter. When she was just eight years old and an aspiring competitive swimmer, I used to take her to swim classes and sit by the pool, watching her glide through the water. It was during those hours of waiting that I decided to take up swimming to pass the time. Little did I know that this simple decision would lead to something much more significant.

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During this time, I crossed paths with many open-water swimmers. Among them, there was a gentleman with an incredible story—he had solo swum across the English Channel. His tale served as a catalyst for my own exploration into open water swimming.

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As time passed, my circle of swimming friends expanded. When the COVID-19 pandemic struck, our community of swimmers stayed connected, united by the shared longing for the endorphin rush that came from swimming together. After the pandemic subsided, we regrouped and began venturing out to explore lakes in and around Bangalore for our swims. Fortunately, we gained access to these natural water bodies, and our group of swimmers continued to grow.

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In June 2022, while casually scrolling through Facebook, I stumbled upon a post seeking swimmers to join a 4-member relay team. Encouraged by some of my close swim buddies, I reached out to the person behind the post, who represented a charitable organization offering relay slots.

Our team was assigned slot #3, with the tide window scheduled between June 22nd and June 29th, 2023. Our team began to take shape.

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Despite facing two near-drowning experiences since I started swimming in open waters, I decided to sign up for this relay team, driven by a deep sense of purpose.

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After registering, I dedicated myself to improving my swimming technique and endurance. I trained at least four days a week under the guidance of a renowned swim coach. Additionally, I engaged in dry-land strength and conditioning exercises twice a week. Gradually, I felt myself becoming a stronger and more skilled swimmer.

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To qualify for the relay swim, I needed to provide authenticated proof of swimming in open water in the dark for a minimum of 30 minutes, along with another requirement of swimming for at least two hours in open water with temperatures below 15 degrees Celsius.

 

As part of the night swim qualifier, I teamed up with a few swim friends for a challenging journey, swimming from Worli Sea Link to Gateway of India, Mumbai, starting at night. This daring swim was scheduled for November 27, 2022, and our team consisted of four relay members.

 

The Setback

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As we prepared for the Mumbai night swim, a month before the event in October 2022, I faced an unexpected health issue. I started feeling strange sensations in my thighs, like tingling and numbness. At first, I thought it might be due to a lack of vitamins or nutrients because I was doing intense workouts on land and in the water.

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I decided to see a neurologist. During the examination, the neurologist noticed that my reflexes were unusually hyperactive. Concerned, they recommended I get an MRI scan to find out what was going on.

The results of the MRI scans were alarming. After multiple scans, I was referred to a neurosurgeon who gave me the grim news—I had a tumor in my spine, near the neck area. This was a serious condition, and it needed immediate attention. The longer we waited, the worse it could get, and I might lose the use of my limbs.

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Doctors strongly advised against participating in the Mumbai night swim with such a condition. But with the event just weeks away, my team and I had already made plans and preparations. Cancelling our swim without me wasn't an option I wanted to consider. So, I decided to keep my medical condition a secret from everyone except the event organizer, who was a close friend. We had a plan in case something went wrong during the swim, where she would signal for help.

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As the days passed, my condition worsened, but I was determined to go through with the Mumbai night swim. When the day finally came on November 27, 2022, at 2:30 AM, we started our swim from Worli Sea Face, Mumbai. We successfully covered 36 kilometers as a relay team of four, reaching the Gateway of India, Mumbai, at 10:00 AM. Only then did I reveal my medical condition to my teammates.

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After the swim, I shifted my focus to preparing for surgery scheduled for December 14, 2022. The surgery lasted seven hours and the surgeon successfully removed the tumor. Three days later, I left the hospital but had to rest and undergo rehabilitation at home for a month. During this time, I needed help with basic tasks.

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Five days after the surgery, my wife noticed a clear liquid coming from the wound. Worried, she called the hospital, and I was readmitted. Doctors discovered that cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) was leaking from my spinal cord. They tried various treatments, but one night, the CSF drained too quickly, causing severe headaches and confusion. With no other options, the neurosurgeons decided to reopen the wound and fix the issue. After ten challenging days in the hospital, I was discharged, but I had lost nearly 10% of my body weight.

 

The surgeries left my right arm weak and numb, making it hard to do simple tasks like writing or even pointing. Doctors told me to rest for a month with limited movement. So, I spent January 2023 mostly in bed, a chair, or the bathroom, relying on my wife for support during those tough times.

 

The Training

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Initially, training at the pool for three days a week was incredibly challenging because my body was still fragile. A significant portion of my right hand lacked sensation, making it difficult to efficiently catch the water while stroking in freestyle. Whenever I exerted a bit more effort, I felt dizzy. However, I was determined not to miss a single training session. Over time, the dizziness in the water subsided, and my hand improved, although it remained numb.

 

To qualify for the English Channel relay swim in June 2023, I needed to acclimatize myself to swimming in water temperatures below 15 degrees Celsius. So, I began sitting in ice baths with temperatures ranging from 11 to 13 degrees Celsius. The initial attempts were challenging; I could barely endure staying in the tub for 30 seconds. Nevertheless, I persevered.

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By the end of May, I gained approximately 5-7 kilograms to better cope with the cold, and I trained rigorously to ensure I was prepared for the swim. Just before departing for the UK and Dover on June 7, 2023, I honed my cold-water acclimatization skills by staying in water at 13 degrees Celsius for over an hour.

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The Dover Experience

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I arrived in the UK and reached Dover on the 8th of June. I hadn't yet completed my qualifying swim, which required me to swim continuously for 2 hours in water below 15 degrees Celsius, evaluated by a neutral observer. I couldn't do this qualification swim back in India as the water temperatures were much higher when I started my post-surgery training.

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My first swim at Dover Marina was a memorable experience. The swim season in Dover begins in early June, attracting open water swimmers from around the world who come to acclimatize and prepare for their respective events. The practice sessions take place at Dover Marina, also known as Swimmers Beach, which stretches just over a kilometer and is marked by buoys. Throughout the day, especially on weekends, you can find dozens of swimmers in the water, acclimatizing and honing their skills. For my inaugural swim at Dover, I initially aimed for just 10 minutes. I entered the water slowly, feeling fine up to my hips, but once my entire body and head were submerged, it became painfully cold. In the first few minutes, I felt a prickling sensation all over, accompanied by shortness of breath. However, after about 3 to 4 minutes, my entire body warmed up, and I continued swimming. Within 10 minutes, I was feeling great and ended up swimming for 30 minutes. The water temperature that day was around 13.2 degrees Celsius. Despite shivering, I emerged feeling incredibly energized and rejuvenated.

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The Dover swim community was an amazing and supportive group. They were always willing to help, ready to answer even the most basic or seemingly silly questions. This sense of camaraderie was truly remarkable, and I kept seeking advice and information from fellow swimmers to enhance my knowledge.

 

My qualifying swim was achieved during my third swim at Dover on the 13th of June. It involved a non-stop swim in water with a temperature of 13.9 degrees Celsius. I was fortunate enough to be evaluated by Kevin Murphy, the legendary "King of The Channel," who has successfully completed 34 crossings of the English Channel.

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An interesting aspect of swimming the English Channel that I couldn't overlook is the local lingo called "The Dover Coaster." This term is used when swimmers are in their designated swim window, but unfavorable weather conditions might prevent them from swimming, causing them to miss their opportunity. The waiting period can feel agonizingly long, akin to riding a roller coaster. Our team experienced this "Dover Coaster" when we almost missed our swim window. We were scheduled as the 3rd slot in our window, which spanned from the 22nd to the 29th of June. Unfortunately, the windy weather persisted throughout, making it impossible for us to swim. Finally, on the evening of the 29th of June at 6:00 PM, we seized our chance and embarked on our relay swim through the night.

 

The Actual English Channel Swim

 

On the 29th of June 2023, a Thursday, we received the news at noon that our swim would begin at 6:00 PM that evening. We were instructed to meet at a designated point in Dover Marina, where the boat, "The Louise Jane II," would pick us up. The team consisted of four members: a German, two British women, and myself. We determined our swim order, with the German going first, followed by one of the British swimmers, myself as the third swimmer, and the other British swimmer last. Once our positions were chosen, they couldn't be changed until we completed the entire distance.

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My First Swim: My first swim started at 8:05 PM and lasted until 9:05 PM. It was quite exhilarating and enjoyable because it was still relatively bright (the sun sets around 10 PM). I relished the cold water and the calm sea. Everything went according to plan. However, I need to mention that my right hand wasn't in the best shape. Even during practice swims and this relay, the cold water caused my right palm to stiffen after about 20 minutes in the water. This made it extremely challenging to catch the water efficiently for my strokes. Nevertheless, fueled by adrenaline and cheers from my team, I managed to complete my first hour. Once out of the cold water, the risk of hypothermia was high, as we were exposed to the cold winds. I had to quickly wrap up and have a hot drink. Wrapping up swiftly was a challenge, especially as I had to do it with one hand. I couldn't ask my female teammates for assistance, so it took me almost 15 minutes after the swim to get properly covered.

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My Second Swim: This swim took place from 12:05 AM to 1:05 AM, in pitch darkness. Swimming in the dark presented a unique challenge; I couldn't even see my hand entering the water. All I could perceive were different shades of darkness and the vastness of the ocean, which played tricks on my mind, causing hallucinations. During this swim, I had to battle my inner fears and ignore the little voices in my head. About 15 minutes into the swim, I encountered a massive bloom of jellyfish, perhaps around 10,000 of them. It was the first time any of us had encountered such a large number. The boat crew and our team were so amazed that they focused their battery torches on the bloom. While swimming through the jellyfish, I could feel them brushing against my body, even entering my mouth. I could sense them and their tentacles through my hands, and I could even taste them. Despite my entire body burning from their stings, I continued swimming. After what felt like an eternity, I finally cleared the bloom. Continuing to swim I encountered another larger bloom of jellyfish in 10 minutes. I managed to wade through this bloom too and by the time I completed my swim my body was on fire when I got back to the boat. Luckily for me the burning from the stings were manageable and subsided within 20 minutes and I felt ok.

 

My Third Swim: This swim took place between 4:05 AM and 5:05 AM, as we approached what locals call the "Channel Swimmers Graveyard." At this point, we had completed nearly 70% of the swim, but the water became choppy, tossing and churning us around. I struggled to maintain my stroke rate and was thrown around by the waves. Breathing became difficult because every time I turned my head to breathe while stroking, I choked. This forced me to adjust my stroke style to navigate the choppiness. Ideally, swimmers should be able to breathe on both sides, which I had learnt, but when I attempted to breathe on the other side, the waves pushed me dangerously close to the support boat. If I accidentally touched the boat, our swim would have been disqualified. Despite the challenges, I managed to complete my hour of swimming in these turbulent waters.

 

The Decision to Abort the Swim: While swimming through the choppy swimmers graveyard, the boat's captain, who also served as the CSA-appointed observer for our swim, informed us that we might need to abandon the swim. We seemed to be making little progress and had practically been swimming in the same spot for hours. He even pointed out another boat with an Irish team of five relay swimmers who had to call off their expedition and return to Dover, England, without completing their swim. Hearing this news was worrisome, but we didn't want to give up as a team. We were determined to push through. The boat captain, recognizing our team's determination, decided to give us 30 more minutes before making the final call on whether to continue or turn back. During this discussion, our German teammate was in the water, battling the currents and choppy waves. We all kept encouraging her to persevere, and she did.

 

My Fourth Swim: It was around 8 AM, and it was my turn to swim. By this time, we had been at sea for 14 hours. My teammates who swam before me, the German and one of the British swimmers, had struggled through the currents, and we could see the French shoreline where people were cycling and jogging. As it was my turn, and the currents from the French coast were pushing us farther from the shore, the boat's captain came to me and urged me to give it my all to ensure we reached the French coast. The French coastline appeared to be just a couple of kilometers away. I began my swim, almost sprinting. However, swimming at such speed couldn't be sustained for long. I felt as though I was racing through the water, and every time I asked how much longer, my teammates would respond with, "Just 15 more minutes." They kept pushing me to maintain my pace. I could see the French shore, and I thought I was only a few hundred meters away. Exhaustion set in, and I began to feel as though I'd been in the water for over an hour. When I finally finished my swim and boarded the boat, I realized we were less than 500 meters from the shore when the next teammate took over. I was a bit frustrated and questioned the captain about why he had me swim for more than an hour. However, he clarified that I had indeed swum for just an hour, but the exhaustion from swimming at a fast pace had made it feel longer. I had swum faster than in any of my previous hours, reaching a speed of 4.5 kilometers per hour. Perhaps there was a favorable tide assisting me, but it was undeniably the most physically demanding swim I had ever experienced.

 

Touching the French Coast: Finally, the swimmer after me touched land on the French coast after 46 minutes. Our official completion time for the English Channel relay, from England to France, according to the Captain, was 15 hours and 46 minutes. This feat was accomplished by one German woman, two British women, and one Indian, that’s us, all part of the relay team known as "Alexa's Four."

 

The Post-Swim Experience

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The post-swim experience was both humbling and euphoric. In fact, my mind went completely blank for a while after we finished. My mental state had unquestionably shifted from what it was before the swim to what it became afterward. I felt a profound need to show respect to nature and the vast ocean, recognizing that it had allowed us to successfully complete our swim. This feeling was particularly poignant because just a week prior to our swim, the English Channel had claimed the life of another swimmer whose body was recovered off the coast of Belgium nearly a month later.

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It took me some time to fully grasp the reality of what we had achieved, especially on a personal level. Just six months earlier, I had undergone two painful surgeries that had left me unable to stand straight and in need of assistance for even the most basic activities of daily life. The stark contrast between that period and this moment of triumphant accomplishment was something I needed time to come to terms with.

 

In Conclusion

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It's just a swim, but the fact that I lived through it is an experience in itself. It demands an abundance of mental and physical courage, whether it's the grueling five-day-a-week training, the painful workouts, enduring ice baths, swimming in the frigid ocean waters, navigating through darkness, or simply gazing out into the vastness of the ocean. I took the plunge into this endeavor without overthinking it because I was determined to overcome some of the setbacks life had thrown my way.

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My hope is that this detailed account of the six months of my life can be of help to someone in need and serve as a source of inspiration for anyone in search of inner strength, motivating them to follow their heart's desires.

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Lastly, I aspire to witness more and more individuals stepping forward to embrace open water swimming as a hobby. The experience of swimming in natural water bodies is truly extraordinary.

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So, if an ordinary person like me can achieve it, anyone else can too!