Diary

5 July 2015 [almost done…]: Nine months ago, sitting on my sofa after a good day at work, I started to hatch my charity challenge. I’d only been a postie for a few months, and was on a temporary contract, but two important things had aligned: Royal Mail’s Charity of the Year was now the Stroke Association and Royal Mail would match-fund any money raised by employees. So this, together with some personal reasons, gave me the motivation to start this fundraising journey.

Photo: My first day as a postie.

Many years ago, as a teenager, I did a 3,000 foot static-line parachute jump (for Guide Dogs for the Blind). I loved the thrill despite putting my left foot down a rabbit hole as I landed, ending up on crutched for several weeks. Since then I’ve always wanted to do a tandem-skydive from 10,000 feet, or higher. So that’s where I started. Straight away I contacted Royal Mail’s charity team and got the ball rolling.

Now, I think it’s safe to say that I do tend to throw myself at life and complicate things a little. Therefore, before I knew it I had come up with the idea of doing three different physical challenges based on the theme of 10,000 feet. Why three? Well I’m a fan of BBC’s MasterChef and John and Gregg are always saying things look right in threes – three scallops make a good looking starter, not two and not four. Illogical but that was my thinking.

Photo: This is me under canopy with my tandem instructor. We jumped from 11,000 feet and I shrieked with joy the whole way down.

Now I just had to find two challenges to compliment my tandem-skydive. As well as being a new postie I was also pretty new to the Lake District. When I move to a new area I do like to take part in a local event, something unique to that part of the world. For example, when I lived in Birmingham I took part in the Birmingham Walkathon. This involved walking around the West Midlands Number 11 bus route which is the longest urban bus route in Europe and conveniently the distance of a marathon. I liked this quirky event. This is when Windermere started to feature in my plan – not the town, the Lake (a decision I’d come to curse later!). I found several open-water swimming events, but the Great North Swim hit all the right notes. I deliver and collect mail all around this lake so it seemed reasonable that at some point I should also go in it. Better still there was a two-mile distance which I had calculated to be 10,560 feet. Challenge two sorted.

Photo credit: Margaret Reid © 2015; Trust me when I say that this was a rare moment of excitement at the thought of getting in this freezing cold lake!

So with one challenge in the air and one in the water the third had to be on land. I like order. At this point I knew that I was travelling to the French Pyrenees in June to attend a family wedding. I’m a huge Tour de France fan and as such I have cycled a couple of classic Tour climbs in the region so I knew that there were plenty of mountains to choose from; in fact there are a mind-boggling number over 10,000 feet. But with a bit of research I found the perfect mountain in an area only an hour from the wedding venue – Pic de Néouvielle in the Pyrenean Lake District. Ooo, 10,141 feet, I do love it when a plan comes together.

Photo: the Pyrenean Lake District from the summit of the Pic de Néouvielle.

I approached Royal Mail with my plan, which now had a name: Carol’s 10,000 feet Triple Challenge: jump, swim, climb. Not very snappy but it’s worked okay. After *a lot* of emails with all the relevant and marvellous people at Royal Mail, Stroke Association, Charities Trust, Skyline Events, and Sponsor Me my plan had well and truly hatched. And in February this year I launched my challenge on Facebook and here (my first ever blog).

So far, this blog has been read 1,673 times on 453 computers in 12 different countries around the world. It has also been shared on Facebook 336 times (thank you). Not exactly viral – unlike my friends marvellous Strawberry Chicken which made the nationals and Tumblr – but enough to keep me motivated.

One unexpected outcome has been my local fame. Royal Mail’s press office seemed to work overtime and as a result I found my face and story appearing in pretty much every local magazine and newspaper. I’m a tall, Scottish, female, all-year-round-shorts-wearing postie with size 10 feet in the Lake District. I had no trouble standing out before this! But the local communities that I work in have really rallied around my charity challenge and it has been a joy talking to people about my journey. In a way I feel like it helped fast-track my journey as a rural postie, and I’ll admit that it’s nice to be known as Postie Carol in such a positive light.

My main fundraising method has been online with Sponsor Me. I know it’s had a few glitches but it is an approved site and as such Royal Mail will match-fund the total. I have also been collecting sponsorship offline – at work, and out and about in the local community. I have also received donations from further afield that have come via friends and family (thank you).

Why click this DONATE NOW link? If you’ve read my blog, Liked a Facebook status, or chatted to someone about my challenges then I hope it has given food for thought, or produced a smile, or maybe a tear? Maybe it has inspired you to do a physical challenge that pushes your limits? Maybe it has inspired you to do a charity challenge of your own? If you have answered YES to anything here then all I ask is that you consider clicking that link – like so many fantastic people have done before you. If you donate a small part of your hard earnt salary then many great things happen. The minimum donation online is £5. With Gift Aid (if you are eligible) that becomes £6.25. And with Royal Mail’s guarantee you donation becomes £12.50. All from your £5. You feel great, I feel great, and the recipients of the Life After Stroke Grants that your donation funds will certainly benefit. Please note that ALL of your money goes directly to the Stroke Association. I have personally funded all of the costs to complete my three challenges (together with gifts from family, friends and a fundraising grant from the Charities Trust). The costs have been high and as such I have not been able to sponsor as many of you as I would have liked – I know many people on their own fundraising journeys.

I will be collecting donations until 14 July 2015.

I’d like to shout a huge thank you to everyone who has donated so far, and to those that have offered other support. Although I love a physical challenge this particular multi-event challenge has pushed me to new limits; at times it has been very tough (not all my physical and mental hurdles have been documented here). But I am able to do these challenges and for that I am very happy and grateful.

This will be my penultimate post. After my fundraising deadline (14 July 2015) I will post my fundraising total.

Many thanks, Postie Carol

01/07/2015 [mountain climb]:

I’m super excited to report that on the 25 June 2015 I successfully reached the summit of the Pic de Néouvielle together with my superb Guide du haute Montagne Matthias Trey. An added bonus for the trip was that my brother, Steven, was also able to come along for the thrill of standing on top of this beautiful Pyrenean 3000er (3,091 metres; 10,141 feet).

Pic de Néouvielle is the highest mountain in the Néouvielle massif in the French Pyrenees. One of the reasons for selecting this climb was because the region is often called the ‘lake district’ of the Néouvielle National Nature Reserve. As I live in Cumbria I thought this was a nice little touch. In fact the region is like the UK’s Lake District on steroids! The mountains, lakes and tracks are all just a bit more stunning and thrilling.

Photo credit: Carol Walthew © 2015; view East from the summit towards Lac d’Aubert and Lac de Cap de Long.

Photo credit: Carol Walthew © 2015; At around 2100 feet up, these lakes were Matthias’ favourite fishing spot.

If you’ve followed this blog you’ll know that my previous challenge took me to dark places, mentally and physically. But this mountain climb was, thankfully, an exhilarating challenge filled with happiness, adrenaline, and smiles – okay maybe there was a wee bit of blood and sweat, but definitely no tears.

Photos: Whilst climbing I fell through the snow into a ten foot hole filled with air and two rocks big enough to remove the skin on my left knee and bruise my lower right leg – a wee bit sore but not enough to break my smile. (I took the photo of the bruise – it’s one week old).

Although the mountain summit stands at 3,091 metres we did not start the climb at sea-level – I’m not that crazy. But we did start higher up than I thought we would. Leading up to the Refuge de la Glere (the actual start of our climb) is a long, small and very bumpy track that Matthias drove us along. It felt a little bit like cheating but the reality was that it saved us 20 kms of easy and dull(ish) walking during the day. As such we started our journey on foot at 2,013 metres. This meant that we ascended 1,078 metres (3,536 feet). It doesn’t sound that much but the thing to focus on is the altitude. Anything above 8,000 feet above sea-level is where things can get weird with altitude sickness. Pic de Néouvielle is small by comparison to Everest but it is the highest summit Steven or I were attempting.

On the way to the summit we walked over grass, rock, scree, ice, and lumpy snow (like the peaks of meringue on a lemon meringue pie). We used crampons and on a few occasions we were roped together for safety. It was all rather exciting!

The views were breath-taking for the whole climb, not just at the summit. We started North West of the summit but actually climbed the last few hundred metres from the East. It was when walking through a pass, to get us onto the East approach, that we met our first fellow climbers. So we stopped for a break and chatted as we fuelled-up on more water and food.

Once over the pass I felt like we were on the final leg, and that the summit was achievable.

Photo: I think this photo of Matthias and me helps shows the scale of the climb. The summit is in the middle but still a couple of hours away.

Although I worried about altitude sickness prior to the climb I wasn’t affected, in fact I felt great physically. However, Steven started to get a bit light-headed at around 2,200 metres and by 2,800 metres he was in a bad way. You can’t predict if you will experience altitude sickness; fitness has nothing to do with it. After a rest and water Steven started to feel a little better and then it was down to Walthew stubbornness and determination that got him to the summit – which we could see at that point but was in fact still 90 minutes of hard effort away.

Photo: Ready to pop – this is what the atmosphere does to a bag of crisps on the summit of a 3000er.

Reaching the summit was fantastic. The weather was perfect all day, not a single puff of wind not even on the summit. As you can see from the photos I wore a variety of layers on the climb but sometimes these layers were just to give me a sense of protection – most of the time one layer was enough (even with my terrible circulation). We stayed on the summit for half an hour soaking in our achievement. It had taken us five and a half hours in total. As I looked around at all the other peaks in the High Pyrenees I knew there and then that I would return. These mountains are stunning and I really want to climb more. Matthias was everything I had hoped for in a Guide, and more. I know my memories of the climb with always include him.

Of course a mountain climb isn’t just about the up, the down can be harder on the body and mind. Thankfully we all had energy left in our tanks and, helped by a few very fast (deliberate) bum-slides down snow fields, we descended in just three and a half hours!

Out of my three charity challenges this final challenge has been the highlight. I feel like I have ended Carol’s 10,000 feet Triple Challenge on a high in more ways than one. Thank you for all your support.

Returning to my first challenge – the skydive – here is an example of what the world looks like at 11,000 feet…

Carol Walthew © 2015; Flying at 11,000 feet, but staying in the aeroplane this time!

Carol Walthew © 2015; As I’m a Postie, and Royal Mail are match-funding all my sponsorship, I thought I’d take a photo of a French post-box.

Photo credits: All photos in this mountain blog post were taken by Steven Walthew © 2015, unless stated otherwise.

16 June 2015 [post-swim report]:

Photo: The first Wave of swimmers, embarking on a half-mile swim, on Sunday, 14 June 2015.

I really don’t know how I’m going to put into words the experience I had at the Great North Swim two days ago but I feel I should give it a try. Two days ago I took part in my first ever open-water swimming event – a two-mile swim in Windermere (Lake District, UK). Speed was never on my agenda for this challenge; the environment was the real test of my mettle. But I do understand that many of you will want to know how long it took so here’s my time so I can get back to the important stuff: 1 hour, 53 minutes, 10 seconds. I spend most of my life feeling cold. I have the circulation condition Raynaud’s to thank for that. I have sat in many an office wearing a woolly hat, gloves and long johns whilst a colleague opens yet another window as they comment on the heat I’m not feeling. Night time is spent under two duvets (of the highest tog rating) hugging a hot water bottle for at least nine months of the year. And yes, even now, I’m wearing woollen fingerless mitts as I type this (it’s June). As such I have worried about this charity challenge more than the other two (skydive and mountain climb) for months. On the start line, with a wonderful support team of friends and family right behind me, I felt very apprehensive. I smiled and joked around but I don’t think I was kidding anyone. I was about to take on a swim that I knew had the potential to break me. The first lap (one mile) went to plan. I entered the water slowly, splashed my face before submerging and swam my own ‘race’. I didn’t let adrenaline get the better of me, I didn’t chase feet or break into front crawl, I stuck to my plan (a plan borne from the wisdom of Tom Noblett). The second lap is where things started to go horribly wrong. The cold was taking its toll. If you have eaten ice-cream then you will probably have experienced that feeling when your frontal lobes and forehead feel painfully cold, enough for you to stop eating for a few minutes. Well at this point putting my face into the water on every stroke had resulted in an ice-cream-head of very painful proportions, and I knew it wasn’t going to go away until I go out of the water. But whilst battling with negative thoughts (who would have thought that ice-cream could do that) I started to feel sick. More accurately, I needed to be sick. I stopped swimming and treaded water twice trying to be sick, but it turns out that vomiting in a lake is harder than you’d think. On my third attempt I finally took the advice of a safety crew member and I held onto his canoe, allowing my muscles to relax enough to throw-up into lovely Windermere. It was disgusting and something that will take a long time to wipe from my memory – and no doubt the poor safety crew man’s as well. After being sick I felt marginally better so I started swimming again, but the delay had meant that I had got even colder. My body was now gripped by the cold water induced shock and I started crying, uncontrollably. Something else I didn’t know was possible whilst swimming. But I kept on going, all be it slower than I’d ever swam before. Safety crew and a fellow swimmer helped me get through the final dark, miserable, 400 or so metres. I could see the finish line at this stage so giving up wasn’t an option. By the time I swam under the finish line my goggles had enough tears in them to obscure my vision, I couldn’t feel below my knees or elbows, and I was shaking so hard that I needed a strong and brave event volunteer to help me up the ramp to exit the lake. I was mumbling “I’m so cold” over and over again. The next person to take my arm was a first aider and I was soon whisked away on a golf buggy to the medical tent, though not before a very determined scientist took my core body temperature reading for their research study (this need for my data was almost a life or death situation for them – anyone who has done a Ph.D. will understand this skewed sense of reality!). Upon entering the 45°C tent my body temperature (ear reading) was 34°C – I was hypothermic. Some time later I left the tent with my temperature at a healthier 36.4°C, but I felt ghastly, really really yukky. I was reunited with my family and friends who did their very best to lift my spirits, and they did. I managed to eat some food, chat and I think even laugh. But I’d been through too much to fully take in everything. Even with the finishers medal around my neck I didn’t feel a sense of elation or achievement. It’s sad but honest to say that even now I still don’t know how to interpret how I feel about this challenge. I will forever look at Windermere with different eyes that’s for sure. So why do it? One of my life mottos is “you always have more to give” and after the Great North Swim I stand by that motto. In time I believe that I will better understand what I have learnt about myself and others in completing this challenge.

Photo credit: Trevor Coultart © 2015. I think someone mentioned to me that they’d used permanent ink to write my swimmer number on my neck (it was the only exposed skin I had).

Photo credit: Trevor Coultart © 2015. My fabulous fan club!

Photo credit: Rosie Dooley © 2015. It’s not a pretty sight but it’s brutally honest; my face says it all.

Photo: This is the core body temperature reading gadget I swallowed before the swim. After it had passed through my body my curiosity got the better of me and I dismantled it to see what was inside. It was like a beautiful mini sculpture – science and technology is great.

Photo: Just in case you think I might have changed my mind – here is my hire wetsuit all packaged up to be posted back to the company. I am not keeping it. I will not be needing a wetsuit again. Ever.

3 June 2015 [science experiment]:

[Image credit: Adam Voorhes, sourced from here.]

In a previous career life I was a research scientist. I’m now a very happy Royal Mail Postwoman. But, I know what it takes to complete a Ph.D. so I still like to volunteer my time to help out in the world of science when I can. Therefore I was rather pleased, as a Great North Swim entrant, to be presented with such an opportunity. Ph.D. student Jane Hall (Supervisor: Dr Mitch Lomax) is based at the University of Portsmouth’s Department of Sport and Exercise Science. Jane is investigating water temperatures in open water swimming and triathlon and the impact of water temperature on body temperature and performance. On the day of the Great North Swim I will swallow a gadget that will measure my deep core temperature. Three readings will be taken: just prior to getting into the water, as I exit the water and 30 minutes after completing the swim. If you’ve been following my blog you will know that I have Raynauld’s. Basically this means that I’m suffering every time I get into the cold waters of Windermere; my hands and feet go ‘dead’ quickly and stay that way no matter how long or hard I swim. I’m quite excited to find out if my deep core temperature reflects my pain. I’ll post the results as soon as I have them. But be warned science moves very slowly – it’s nothing like it is in telly dramas. Oh, and in case you’re wondering, the temperature gadget I shallow should take a natural course through my body, so I’ll be on poop inspection duty for a day or two! In other news: I now have my official swimming cap, swimming number (12240) and my timing chip; also, Windermere Now magazine have published an update article about my charity challenge (Issue 8, Page 5); and the Westmorland Gazette newspaper have requested an interview.

31 May 2015 [open water swimming]:

Since my last post I have received some superb, encouraging motivational pep talks – thank you (you all know who you are). As you’ll see from my updated swimming data chart below I have been spending more time in the chilly waters of Windermere. I can’t thank Tom Noblett enough. He’s alleviated 99.9% my fears about my Great North Swim challenge, and I have figured out that the last 0.1% is just a healthy respect for open water swimming. Friends, Nick and Margaret, kindly agreed to be my safety boat for my last swim. Although the lake was wonderfully quiet, post Bank Holiday craziness, I’ve come to realise how sensible it is to have a safety boat nearby. A bright pink swimming cap can easily be mistaken for a buoy in choppy waters. I was determined to stay in the water for an hour, no matter how uncomfortable I was, and I’m delighted to report that I managed to swim 2 kms in 62 minutes 37 seconds. At one point I had to stop and tread water simply to shout some expletives at the waves. Lakes don’t always have beautiful glass-like landscape-reflecting surfaces and boy oh boy the waves don’t half spoil your stroke rhythm. Margaret is a fab photographer and we have her to thank for the photos in this post – the one of me leaping on the pier (after I’d swum the 2 kms) makes me laugh every time. It’s now only two weeks until I finally take part in the 2 mile Great North Swim (14th June). On a final note for today, during the Great North Swim I will also be a participant in a scientific study – more about that later this week…

Photos: Margaret Reid © 2015. Margaret is curator of Windermere Jetty: Museum of Boats, Steam and Stories and is also not shy of getting in the lake, having recently won the Low Wood No Wood ‘Armada Award‘.

21 May 2015 [open water swimming]: Earlier this week I got myself a cold hard reality check – I am not ready for my two mile swim in cold, lake water. Using the phrase ‘not ready’ is a whopping big understatement. It’s time to hit the panic button, drop everything and start eating, sleeping and breathing cold water swimming. So, what’s changed? Why have I gone from being happy with my swimming progress to a total gibbering wreck? Well, a postie colleague was kind enough to set-up a meeting for me with Tom Noblett. The evening before meeting Tom I did what all people do now in our digital age – I Googled him. I quickly found out that Tom was no ordinary swimmer (trust me there are hundreds of all-year-round, in your teenie-weenie Speedos, open water swimmers in the Lake District), Tom has swum the Channel. He is a member of a very, very, very elite group. Many try, most don’t succeed. Click here to see Tom’s entry on the Channel Swimming Association website. Strictly speaking I should be calling him Tom The Gladiator Noblett:

The next morning I packed my wetsuit (including the socks, gloves and two caps) and headed off to meet Tom. I arrived a little early (nerves I guess) so I waited for a few minutes while Tom finished his meeting. This was the room I was waiting in:

Tom’s warm welcome, and big smile put me at easy and it quickly became clear that Tom was very enthusiastic and really wanted to help me overcome my many fears about the Great North Swim, and open water swimming in general. Tom’s main concern was my severe lack of time spent in the lake; in cold water. After our chat it was time to get in Windermere. Tom estimated the water temperature to be 11 degrees Centigrade. I was in the water for 21 minutes, I only swam about 400 metres in total (and certainly not in one go), and I came out of the water feeling drunk, disorientated and very cold. I had totally underestimated the effect that the cold water would have on my muscles and all my vital organs. I’ve been in denial. Understandably, Tom is concerned about my ability to complete the two-mile course on Sunday, 14 June. I am too. I was worrying about water beasties, and reeds, and undercurrents, and other swimmers, and the cold water. Now I’m not remotely bothered about most of these, thanks to Tom’s voice of reason. But now I’m worried about the very thing I was convinced I could do – the distance. In the lake, despite being donned from head to toe in neoprene, the cold water seemed to pull all my muscles in the wrong directions and I couldn’t shake the feeling that an elephant was sitting on my chest. I think if Tom hadn’t been there I’d have panicked – it happens to a lot of novice open water swimmers. So, what now? Tom has generously offered to mentor me for the next few days, volunteering his time (and I know he’s a man in demand, from all directions) to help assess what I can achieve over the next three weeks, and what distance I should realistically aim for in the Great North Swim. He has already given me some great swimming advice and some tasks to complete, and I have emptied my diary of all things that don’t involve water (sorry to my lovely forgiving friends). I’m back in the lake on Friday for an acclimatisation session (just suffering rather than swimming) and then on Saturday I’m meeting Tom again to attempt a 1 km swim in Windermere. In between all this ‘fun’ I’ll be having in the lake I’ll be in the swimming pool increasing my distance to four miles, and not the easy peesy two-milers that I have been doing! It has been a tough few days but I am extremely grateful that I have Tom’s expert hand to guide me past this reality check and back into a positive can-do attitude. If you have ever had the desire to be a motivational speaker, please feel free to release that inner person and practice on me – I’d appreciate it. I’ve set myself quite a few challenges over the years but could this be the one to break me? Will my stubbornness hold out and get me to the watery finish line? Time, I suppose, will tell. But how dare Windermere look so inviting…

I’m doing all of this to try and help survivors of stroke; donations can be made by clicking here. Thank you.

16 May 2015 [stroke]: Have you ever noticed that if you have something on your mind then the same thing seems to pop up everywhere – on posters, in the news, in overheard conversations? It’s as if the world is reading your mind. Well, stroke has been on my mind. At the same time, for example, the results of a study commissioned by the Stroke Association hit the headlines (e.g. “Strokes rising among people of working age”) and the world of football was shocked to learn that that former England and Tottenham striker Jimmy Greaves had suffer a severe stroke. But for me it’s been about Professor Richard Langton Gregory, CBE, FRS, FRSE. Five years ago (tomorrow) Richard died from a massive stroke. My path crossed Richard’s in Bristol when he was an Emeritus Professor and I was doing my Ph.D. in Experimental Psychology. Relatively  speaking this crossing of paths was brief, but, for me, it was very significant. It’s a long story, and certainly not one for here, but I would like you to know more about this amazing scientist and gentleman – and to know more about him is to understand me a little better. There are many heartfelt articles about Richard but for me it is the Royal Society obituary, written by Dr Helen E. Ross, which hits the right note.

[Photo source: Times Educational Supplement]

22 April 2015 [swim]: Still buzzing from my skydive, I headed back to the swimming pool this morning with a renewed mental energy to cope with the repetitiveness of doing lengths. I don’t know if I still had some adrenaline in my body but I managed 140 lengths in 101 minutes – my longest swim yet, and still at a pace that I’m very happy with:

I came out of the leisure centre into glorious sunshine. This is good news for all Great North Swimmers as the water temperature of Windermere must surely be rising, even if just by a few degrees. I still plan to do a weekly swim in the pool, to keep up my swimming stamina, but I will also be trying a weekly dip in the lake to continue my cold water acclimatisation. The latter aim will take a lot of will power, and maybe a few more donations, or pledges, to motivate me!

20 April 2015 [tandem skydive]: I’m a skydiver! I’m so happy (understatement) to have successfully completed the first of my 10,000 foot charity challenges (although as it happens I actually jumped from 11,000 feet – a bonus). I’m still buzzing from the experience and would jump (pun intended) at the chance to do it again. I could talk at great length about the adrenaline surges, the surreal feeling of freefalling through clouds and the total joy I felt but instead I suggest you phone your nearest parachute centre right now and book yourself a tandem skydive – you won’t regret it. I’d like to say a big thank you to all the staff at the Black Knights Parachute Centre who made my skydive a safe, exciting and memorable experience. And a huge thank you to all my sponsors; my fundraising efforts are ongoing and my total is still rising.

         

16 April 2015 [open water swimming]: Today I ran out of excuses: I have my hire wetsuit; I have a bright pink swimming cap (for safety); a colleague has kindly lent me his neoprene swimming gloves; the sun was shining; there was next to no wind; and I had a day off work. As I packed my kit bag I was telling myself that I’d be happy just to be able to get fully submerged in the cold water of Windermere. If I did any actual swimming that would be a bonus. I’d discovered online that the water temperature in Ullswater was just 7.6 °C last week so I knew it was going to be pretty tough. Even with my skydive (rescheduled for) this Sunday it has been the Great North Swim in June that has been playing on my mind – a lot. Today was about trying to alleviate some of my fears and build up some confidence. Family and friends would, I have no doubt, describe me as adventurous, determined and driven. I’d even use similar words myself. So it’s hard to get across that this swim scares me. I can swim, I don’t doubt that, but I am not good in the cold. In the wrong conditions my circulation condition, Raynaulds, causes me extreme pain. Windermere can easily throw these conditions at me. Just watch this video of Davina McCall’s Sports Relief charity swim in Windermere to get a sense of this. Standing on the edge of Windermere, with the sun shining and the water sparkling, I was feeling full of emotions and adrenaline. This was my view:

It’s at times like this that it’s a good idea to remind yourself why you are doing what you are doing: fundraising and living life to the full. Bit by bit I edged into the water. The cold water and the pebbles combined to make my feet feel like I was walking on Lego®. If you are fine with the cold then please try to imagine your body slowly getting covered in something you don’t like – spiders maybe!? I want you to share this fully with me! With each step, getting deeper, I felt the cold water seep into my wetsuit. Once up to my chest I slipped and that was me fully submerged. Not the way I’d planned it but it got me swimming. The wetsuit made my position in the water much higher – more specifically, my bottom – making the kicking action of breaststroke difficult. But before I could master any sort of technique I simply had to get out of the water. Back on the shore the relief turned to elation, I’d done it. My first cold water acclimatisation session wasn’t recorded breaking but I was in the water for 11 minutes, and I swam about 100 metres. It’s a start!

6 April 2015 [skydive]: We Brits love talking about the weather, but yesterday my friends and I took this national pastime to a whole new level. But we weren’t the only ones – everyone at the skydiving centre was talking about the weather, in such detail that anyone chancing upon us would have been quite convinced that they had stumbled into a meteorological conference of epic proportions. As the fog persisted, the tension built and the hours passed by I was more and more pleased that I had a ‘support team’ with me. Their patience deserved a medal. The fog teased us all day long. One moment the fog would lift enough to give us a peak at the drop zone with some buildings and trees in the distance. But no sooner had our hopes of jumping been lifted the fog dropped, again. We arrived at 8 am and by 10 am I’d received my tandem-skydive training (which was an important, interesting and funny hour), and then the waiting began. Six hours later the bad news was delivered – no jumps today. It was gutting. The nervous energy in my body had exhausted me and I definitely had a few grumpy moments. But, on the bright side, I got to spend the whole day with very good friends, playing games, chatting and generally laughing at our amateur attempts at predicting the weather. Thankfully I booked my next jump date there and then – so (weather dependent) I will jump in two-weeks time. In the meantime here is a photo of me in my hired wetsuit for you to have a giggle at!

27 March 2015 [Snow & wetsuits]: As I opened my curtains yesterday morning my eyes took a while to adjust to the scene before me. I blinked. I blinked again. My eyes were not deceiving me. Snow. SNOW. This was the shock I needed. I went straight online and hired a wetsuit. All the locals (who live around Windermere) have been telling me that the lake will warm up. I have no doubt that they have been trying to reassure me. But, what I think they mean is that at least I won’t have to break ice on the surface of the lake before I jump in! The Great North Swim is only 11 weeks away so, unless a major heatwave is coming to South Lakeland, I’m resigned to the fact that I’m going to be very, very, very cold. Wetsuits designed for open-water swimming focus more on flexibility and floatation rather than heat-retention. I’ve hired a ‘last-season’ Aqua Sphere Powered Pursuit wetsuit which should arrive in a few days. This is what it will look like:

The first stage will be to practice getting into my wetsuit in the safety of my own home. Donning a wetsuit like this correctly, without ripping holes in it or having escaping flesh, is a lot harder than you imagine. Once I master this, I will then head for my local swimming pool to test it out. Then, in a few weeks time, when the lake water temperature is above the ‘this feels like I might die’ temperature, I’ll take the plunge.

Please note: All sponsorship money goes directly to Stroke Association. No sponsorship money is being used to fund any aspect of this multi-event charity challenge. To make a donation please click here, thank you.

24 March 2015 [Life after Stroke]: As you know, I’m raising money for Royal Mail’s Charity of the Year – the Stroke Association. All the money raised, including from my challenge, will be used to fund Life after Stroke grants. My Nan and Gran died as a result of their strokes however there are at least 1.2 million stroke survivors in the UK today; over half have a disability and a third rely on others for help with daily living. A Life after Stroke grant can help support stroke survivors and their families overcome the most difficult challenge of their lives. You can read a case study about Jabeen Mitha, a 56-year-old stroke survivor, here. Please note that every single penny raised during this challenge is paid directly to the charity; no sponsorship money is used to fund the cost of doing my multi-event challenge. A donation of any size is a step towards, for example, a Recovery Grant to fund vital home adaptations or an Activity Grant to help survivors re-engage with their local communities. To make a quick and easy donation online (minimum donation £5 – and Royal Mail will double it) please click here. 

Photo: Pic de Néouvielle, the 10,141 foot mountain I’m going to be climbing (image source). You can see why this region is sometimes called the lake district – it’ll be home from home!

19 March 2015 [swim]: Here’s an update of my swimming data, after two more training sessions in the swimming pool:

I was curious about how far I’d swum in total, so far. Windermere, the lake in which the Great North Swim will take place, is 11.23 miles long (18073 metres). So I’ve travelled this distance, and a bit more – although it’s all been in a swimming pool where it’s warm, I have lanes to follow, the water is clear, and I get to push off a wall every 25 minutes! Nonetheless, this is quite motivating. But. Yes, there’s a but. All this means little if I panic when trying to swim in the lake. I really must get around to hiring a wetsuit.

15 March 2015 [skydive]: In exactly three weeks, weather permitting, I will be hurtling towards the ground at 120 mph…and then my parachute will open. That’s the scenario I’m hoping for! As my tandem skydive gets closer I’ve found myself sitting on the safety of my sofa Googling search terms like ‘skydive’. It turns out that this was not a good idea. I’ve watched videos of people screaming because of twisted lines, someone partially falling out of their harness, an instructor being hit in the head by a shoe, someone blacking out mid-flight and tandem jumpers equipment being hit by the very plane that they have just jumped out of. Yes, these have all really happened. So I was rather pleased to see this happy story in the news yesterday – “South African woman celebrates her 100th Birthday with a skydive.” If Georgina can do it then so can I. Risk perception restored. My Gran lived to celebrate her 100th Birthday. We had a big family party, ate cake and she loved her card from the Queen. If Gran had survived her subsequent stroke I know she wouldn’t have jumped out of an aeroplane; Radio 4 and Scrabble were more her thing. But I know that she’d have been excited to hear that I am.

[Photo: Georgina Harwood after her skydive; Associated Press]

12 March 2015 [general]: It’s been two weeks since my last update. During this time I’ve been on holiday visiting friends (having a fun-packed week, eating a lot of cake!) and I’ve had a week where my mind has been weighed down with stuff (not as much fun). But, thankfully, this charity challenge is a long-distance challenge and not a sprint – this is a minor set-back. My skydive is in 24 days, which gives me enough time to lose the 2 kgs gained from cake eating). So, while I’m getting back into the zone, for now I thought I’d share my photo of Nathan Sawaya’s LEGO® sculpture called ‘Swimmer’. You can see it, and much more, at the ART OF THE BRICK exhibition in London.

If you’d like to support my charity challenge and make a donation to the Stroke Association please click here, thank you.

26 February 2015 [donations & swim]: I woke up this morning to see that my (new) online fundraising target of £1,500 has been reached. Thank you to all the marvellous people who have made such generous donations to the Stroke Association (see here). But this doesn’t mean the finish line, oh no, it just spurs me on. I’m going to move the ‘goal-posts’ again and make my new target £1,800. This good news had me leaping out of bed and practically jogging to the swimming pool. Your encouragement helped me swim 100 lengths in 68 minutes. It feels so good to finally know that I can swim for more than an hour without the need of a lifeguard! Trust me when I say this is not just a physical feat. Going up and down the pool over and over again plays with your mind. When I was applying for my job as a Postwoman I remember some mention of ‘repetitive tasks’, but nothing I do as a postie compares to the repetitive challenge of this swimming. That said, I am still enjoying the training – mainly because I can eat a huge amount of food at the end of each swim 🙂

24 February 2015 [swim]: I’ve just finished my seventh swimming session where I managed to complete 80 lengths in 52 minutes. Although I’m not treating the Great North Swim as a race my training numbers do motivate me. So for those that also like numbers here are my first seven training sessions in one handy table:

I seem to be swimming at a consistent pace even though my distance is increasing, which is good news. On the big day I’ll be swimming the two-mile course (approx. 10,560 feet) so, although I’m making progress, I still have a long way to go. Also, I’ve yet to venture out of the comfort of the pool and into the lake (Windermere).

Photo: Windermere. I’m hoping the water will be as still as this for the Great North Swim. Although something tells me that it’s not going to be quite as tranquil!

21 February 2015 [skydive]: My first challenge is a tandem skydive from 10,000 feet. Quite a few people have asked me why I have chosen to jump out of a plane. I suppose the simple answer is that I want to be an astronaut, go into space, look back at Earth and experience weightlessness. As I sadly don’t have a few million pounds kicking around to pay for a space tourist trip, this is the closest I’m going to get! Watching Felix Baumgartner jump out of a capsule attached to a helium-filled balloon at 128,100 feet (39,045 metres) still gives me goosebumps. As well as getting to see the curvature of Earth from space, he broke the speed of sound reaching an estimated speed of 833.9 mph, in 2012. Click the photo of Felix to watch the video of his amazing jump.

20 February 2015 [swim & press]: My sixth training session went really well this morning – I swam 70 lengths in 47 minutes, and I felt like I could keep going. As I’m increasing my distance I also seem to be getting faster (last session: 60 lengths in 45 minutes). My new swimming mask (see 17 February below) gets 10/10. The visibility in the mask is outstanding and the fit seems to be just right for me too. After 32 lengths I had to make a few adjustments to the straps but that was it. No leaks, no fogging and, most importantly, no pain. I have no doubt that having the right equipment helped make this session so much more enjoyable. Now I need to find a way of counting lengths but also allowing my mind to wander as I go up and down the pool. On another note: My fundraising story has appeared in every newspaper in my local area. I even made the front cover of The Citizen! Thanks to this coverage I have received my first donation ‘on the street’ while I was out delivering mail – this made me so happy I was still smiling hours later.

18 February 2015 [press]: With the help of Royal Mail’s Press Office, news of my charity challenge is spreading. Today, whilst working around Bowness-on-Windermere, Ambleside and Hawkshead, a few customers cheerfully commented about the articles in The Westmorland Gazette (online) and the North-West Evening Mail (see photo below). Together with the Windermere Now article [see diary entry: 12 Feb] my story should reach a huge number of local residents. Even if I get just one more donation for the Stroke Association, it’ll be worth my fifteen minutes of fame!

17 February 2015 [swim/equipment]: I’ve mentioned that my swimming goggles are hurting my eyeballs after swimming about 40 lengths or so. I’ve had the goggles I’m using for donkeys years and they have definitely seen better days. As well as putting a horrible pressure around my eyeballs – leaving me looking like a panda at the end of each training session – they also fog up. I’ve loosened the headband on the goggles but the pain persists. So, after doing some online research, I’ve bought an Aqua Sphere, Seal 2.0 swimming mask.

Although I’ve yet to use them, it was the style of fit, the materials used and the good field of view that appealed, especially for my swimming challenge in open-water. I’m really looking forward to getting in the pool again to put them to the test (Windermere is still too cold for me!).

16 February 2015 [swim]: A new week and another varied work rota. Today, rather than being out and about delivering or collecting mail, I was based at the Delivery Office. This indoor role requires me to process all the Special Delivery Guaranteed™ items and unite customers with their letters, packets and parcels. As this is not as physically demanding as my other duties I decided to get up early and head to the pool for my fifth training session. I’d forgotten that it is half-term so the pool was a lot busier than usual. I managed to swim 60 lengths of breaststroke in 45 minutes. Although by the time I had weaved my way around all the other swimmers it was probably more like the distance of 65 lengths. At least it gave me a hint of what it’ll be like to swim with all my fellow Great North Swimmers in the lake on the big day. My googles are still hurting my eyeballs after 40 lengths or so – I’m going to have to resolve this issue sooner rather than later.

Picture: © 2003-2015 Jim Edwards, Great North Swim 2012, Acrylic on canvas, Commission by Nova International, organiser of the Great Run events. Click here for more information about the artist.

13 February 2015 [on a personal note…]: In my introduction I briefly mention that both my Nan and Gran died of stroke related illnesses. Here I’ll share a little more…

I was very young when my Nan had her stroke. Nan was visiting us for a family occasion. Despite my tender years I have a very clear memory of something being very wrong. My memory of the moment feels a weight, even now. All the ‘doing’ and ‘saying’ around me was grown-up stuff, all going over my head. I can’t remember details, just that weight – but maybe that’s a good thing, if you know what I mean.

The memory of my Gran’s stroke however is very vivid. This time I was one of the grown-ups. I was staying with my Gran at the time. Gran was sitting in her favourite chair. It was a brown, velour, old-fashioned chair but Gran loved it! So, over the years this is where I pictured her. Well, there she was, all one-hundred years of her, in her chair, but this time her face was telling a different story. I knew it was a stroke, straight away. My weight returned. Sadly, Gran never recovered and she died in hospital a few weeks later. I wish it had happened in her chair, in her own home. I know that’s where she wanted to say goodbye to this world. I still picture her in her chair.

Photo: Carol’s Gran (in a different chair – sorry, but the brown chair is just for Gran and me).

When Gran was in hospital I participated in Scotland’s longest duathlon (a run-cycle-run from Glasgow to Edinburgh) in aid of Chest, Heart and Stroke Scotland. Now, a few years later, I’ve decided to set myself a bigger physical challenge in aid of the Stroke Association – a UK charity helping stroke patients, their families and their carers. This is my personal story, and you can read more stories on the Stroke Association’s online community forum, TalkStroke.

If you would you like to help the Stroke Association to continue its fantastic work then please consider making a donation – just click here to make a donation online; it’s a quick and easy process and one that I can guarantee that you will feel good about. Thank you.

12 February 2015 [press]: Following my diary entry on 4 February, my postie smile is appearing in the February edition (Issue 5) of Windermere Now, a community magazine. The digital version is available now, and the print edition will be delivered at the end of the month (by Royal Mail) to 10,000 homes in Bowness and Windermere, Hawkshead, Ambleside, Troutbeck, Skelwith Bridge, Grasmere, and Staveley. A big thank you to Editor Chris Plumb and his team for supporting my charity challenge.

11 February 2015 [swim]: I find with any type of exercise, sometimes your body feels good and everything just seems to work in harmony. This morning’s training session (the fourth) was not like this; it was a hard slog. I couldn’t find my breathing rhythm, my goggles felt like they were trying to push my eyeballs out of their sockets, and each length seemed to get longer. But thankfully I have a stubborn determination. I managed to beat the negative gremlins and swam 50 lengths of breaststroke in 35 minutes. I’m happy with that.

10 February 2015 [fundraising support]: I got some good news today. My application for a Royal Mail Fundraising Grant was successful. The grant will cover (most of) the cost of the Guide de Haute Montagne I need for my third charity challenge – the mountain climb. It’s great that my employer is providing this support as it means that I can focus on my fundraising.

7-8 February 2015 [climb]: To help me prepare for climbing the 10,141 feet of Pic de Néouvielle, I booked myself onto Summitrek’s ‘Winter skills for the hills’, two-day, non-residential course. It has been the best £150 I’ve spent in a long time. The instructor was highly skilled, knowledgeable and enthusiastic, and took a nice relaxed approach to the weekend. The misfortune of others meant that I was one of only two ‘students’ on the course, so I got to ask loads of questions and get good feedback on the skills I was trying to master. Throwing myself down steep, snowy slopes to then use my ice axe to self-arrest my ‘fall’ was an exhilarating experience, and a life-saving skill to learn. I also felt like a superhero climbing up steep, slippy slopes in crampons! But it was also all the helpful climbing hints and tips – dropped in-between chats about food, astronomy, life the universe and everything – that made the weekend such a valuable and enjoyable experience. I now have so much more confidence about climbing in winter conditions. I’d recommend this course to anyone who wants to add a bit of excitement to their hiking repertoire. Although it wasn’t the aim of the course, it was also an added bonus to get to the top of Raise, Helvellyn and Catstye Cam.

The photos below show: me using crampons; my smile on the top of Raise; my instructor and fellow student; the equipment I took and borrowed; Helvellyn from Catstye Cam; and the sunset we enjoyed returning to Glenridding on Day One.

   

6th February 2015 [swim]: Third training session successfully completed this morning; 40 lengths of breaststroke in 25 minutes. Whilst in the pool I tend to just get on with the task in hand however it has been nice meeting friendly fellow (female) swimmers before and after my training. I’ve yet to meet another Great North Swim entrant, but I’m hopeful…

4th February 2015 [press]: I was photographed in my Royal Mail uniform today – my postie smile is going to be appearing in a local community magazine this month. It’s great that my fundraising challenge is getting some support and publicity.

3rd February 2015 [swim]: It was a chilly -3°C this morning as I headed to the swimming pool for my second training session. I managed to do 40 lengths of breaststroke in 26 minutes, without stopping. As with my first swim (28th January), it is my triceps (aka bingo-wings!) that ached a little afterwards – apparently this is not uncommon in beginners.

I found a nice, simple comparison between front-crawl and breaststroke in the Guardian. Although I can do front-crawl, I’ve decided to stick with breaststroke as it’s my favourite stroke, and I want to relax and enjoy my swimming.

1st February 2015 [climb]: I had a scary, mountain climbing dream last night. I won’t relive it here but I did visit a local shop this morning and buy this…

…a sensible purchase I think; dream or no dream!

Also…on a completely different note…today this blog was nominated for a Liebster Award – an online award for new bloggers. I would like to thank blogger Annie Edwards from Make My Day for the nomination. In Liebster Award tradition, I would like to nominate the fabulously titled blog: The Knickknackertorium.

30th January 2015 [general]: This multi-event challenge has taken quite a bit of planning, and it’s not finished yet. But thanks to staff at Royal Mail, Stroke Association, Charities Trust and Skyline things are finally coming together. So today, after work, I decided it was time to start promoting this fundraising challenge. It was gone 7 pm by the time I sat on my sofa – Posties don’t just do early deliveries, we also work later in the day collecting mail from boxes and businesses and staff delivery offices so our customers can pick up parcels after work – so the first ‘shout-out’ was by Facebook. After just a few minutes the first donation was made! It’s a great feeling to get the ball rolling, and it’s motivated me to book in my next swimming training session.

28th January 2015 [swim]: Today I completed my first training session for the 2-mile open water swim (Great North Swim). I’m not quite ready to brave Windermere yet – it was snowing today – so I visited my local swimming pool instead. It’s been about a year since I was last in a swimming pool so I decided to stick with my strongest swimming stroke – Breaststroke. I wanted to test my stamina but without overdoing it, as I still have to have enough energy to do my job as a Postwoman. I managed to complete 30 lengths (about 2,460 feet), without stopping, in 20 minutes. I’m not too concerned about setting myself a time goal for this challenge. I’m more concerned about getting round the course without getting accidentally kicked in the head/face by one of the many other participants! That said, I’ve been told that the average time taken for the 2-mile course is 1 hour 15 minutes so I’m using this as a very rough guide for my training. I feel happy with my first swim; my triceps are the only muscles that feel tired.

© Carol Walthew and Carol’s 10,000 feet Triple Challenge, 2015. Please see full copyright conditions on the home page.