I'm doing well with the milestones I set myself.  Today I managed 16 press-ups per minute for the whole hour, totalling 960.  The only next realistic target is the 1000, so I know I am now ready for the first mini fund-raiser.  (Though oddly, when I stood up at the end of exercising today, it was my knees that hurt, not my arms!)

All I need to do now is book a venue, and somehow secure some banners which will advertise/explain that some lunatic is not randomly doing press-ups in the middle of a shopping centre.  I'm planning on speaking to a local company soon to try and sort something out on that front. 

Oh, and then I need to average 16.6666 press-ups per minute for an hour.  That's still going to be tough! 

Watch this space for the first event booking!

Last night I swam for a little over two hours.  Again, I was limited by closing time, not physical ability.  I will have to look at taking some half days off work, in order that I can build up to a four hour swim, which is my goal prior to the cold weather really setting in.

In my training session up to date, I have simply swum non stop.  But last night was also my first experiment with taking fuel and water on board during the swim. I bought an energy sachet, and practised treading water whilst eating some of the gel, firstly after an hour of swimming, and then after another 40 minutes.  I didn't notice a huge energy boost, but the idea is to sustain a suitable energy level required to keep going, as well as get used to keeping the food down.  Vomiting is very, very bad, and needs to be avoided at all costs.  (I know I need to train in the sea more, practising feeding, but I have to start somewhere.)


Another lesson learned from last night was that if I use the Body Glide substance AND Vaseline  I don't chaff.  Quite how long this mixture will last needs to be discovered, but certainly I was still coated in the mixture at the end of my session, and there had been no rubbing.


So much to learn! 

I've loved running over the Malverns for years.  I was fortunate enough to be based at the northern end of them for several years, and at one point they formed a huge part of my rehabilitation, following a massive disc prolapse.

Ideally, I like being dropped at the southern end and making my way across to the clock tower at the foot of North Hill.  My personal best for that was an hour twenty.  But now, I have to take the family into account, so I tend to meet them in Malvern town.

Even that though, takes a bit of logistical arranging, and I have to leave them to find something to do in the interim.  So it's nice to be able to include them if possible, such at starting at the clock tower, and all climbing to the Beacon and back (me carrying Will, as it's good exercise).

Today I tried something different.  

From Malvern town, up past St Anne's Well, to the main path leading to the Beacon, is steep.  VERY steep.  I estimate it ranges between a 1/8 and a 1/4 gradient.  It also starts with a killer set of steps, almost designed to knock the wind out of you right at the beginning.  Today I got dropped off at the base of the steps, marched up the steps, then ran all of the way to the clock tower to catch up with Esta and the boys.  From there we could all enjoy a hill walk together, with me already getting my workout out of the way.

Happy family all round. 

I'm generally very good at pushing myself physically.  When I work out, I tend to work out hard.  Even on days when I envisage a 'gentle' gym session, I come away puffing and sweating profusely.  This is probably because the army never, ever, took us out on a gentle run, or gave us a gently PT session, so it always seems like cheating to me, like there is little point.

But sometimes, it's good to have someone who will push you even further than you would normally push yourself.  So yesterday I 'treated' myself to a personal training session with John 'JJ' Hewitt.  I told JJ I expected a proper military-style beasting.  He duly delivered!

HIT hurts at the best of times, if such an oxymoron exists.  But when you have someone pushing you, urging you on, encouraging you to go further - then it really, really hurts.  Each set consisted of six exercises.  By the end of the third and final set, I was literally curled up on the exercise mat, gasping from breath, dripping with sweat. 

The adrenaline was still coursing through me for hours.  I work on the fifth floor of our London building.  When I left for my train, I almost decided to stop on the second floor and call the lift to get me down the final two - my legs were that unsteady.

All in all, a very good session.  I certainly got what I'd asked (and paid) for!

Last night I swam for two and a half hours around the Hampstead pond.  I arrived slightly later than I intended, and had not realised that the pond is now beginning to close earlier and earlier.  I'd planed for a three hour swim, but there simply wasn't time.

It all seems to be about numbers.

In one year, I will either have finished my attempt at swimming the Channel (one way or another) or I should be setting off on the long journey.

How quickly that year will go....  

When I do my 1000 press-up challenge in public (date TBC), I want it to be the first time I have achieved that number (otherwise it's not really a challenge!).  But I know I am closing in on the target.  My very first objective towards the 1000 mark was 600.

Today I managed 901.

That's 15 press-ups per minute.... for 60 minutes.  Then one more thrown in at the end for good luck.  :0)

One thing I have read of often from successful Channel swimmers is that they tend to have a close friend or relative in the pilot boat.  Someone is needed who can pass you food and water during the feed stops, and of course, having some encouragement during the tough times is essential.

Yesterday was the sixth anniversary of Harry's death.  We remember the day, every year, but we save any celebration of Harry's life until around his birthday, in October.

When I do my swim next year, it will be just after the seventh anniversary.  I'm hoping it will be one more memory to help me in the mental preparation of a long, cold swim.

I love the lido at Parliament Hill, on Hampstead Heath.  It's long and wide, and the water is cool and clean, allowing you to see the glistening steel that lines the pool.  This visibility also allows you to see other swimmers, usually (but not always) avoiding collisions.

But the Channel is not going to be like this.  And I need to train in water that is not so clear.

Jumping in the men's pond on Hampstead Heath for the first time last night was a big of a shock.  The water is not scummy, or smelly - but it is green, and the visibility is reduced to less than arm's length.  Being unfamiliar with the layout of the buoys and ropes indicating the contained swimming area, and unsure on any etiquette, I was confused within a few strokes of where I was, and where I needed to be heading.  It was disturbing, and slightly scary.  The pond was fairly empty, save for a few people diving off the board, and whilst on the one hand this was a blessing compared to the often-packed lido, it meant I wasn't sure of the best way to head.

I wondered if I should get out and go back to the lido instead.

But I did notice another swimmer, and suddenly I realised my mistake:  I was swimming the wrong way round the roped-off area, and this was adding to my disorientation!

I'll explain what I mean. I do not breathe bilaterally, meaning I can only take a breath to my right side.  I had been swimming in a clockwise direction around the lake, meaning I could never see the rope which lay to my left, marking off the boundary.  By turning round, and keeping this rope to me right, I was immediately provided with a guide.  All that remained was to look up regularly to find out where I had to turn left, swimming in a large circuit which, strangely enough, took me almost exactly ten minutes each lap.

I swam for an hour (six laps), took a quick break to reapply some lubricant to my armpits which we chaffing, then did another five.  It felt strange swimming amongst the ducks and brushing against leaves and twigs, but once I was used to it (including seeing a long-legged Crane take off and fly inches above my head) it was an enjoyable experience.  I will be back to that pond lots over the coming year.