WordRidden

I think I may have had the perfect swim today.

The “Dovercoaster” is how Channel swimmers refer to the uncertainty around when—or indeed, if—they are going to get the call from their boat pilot saying they have a slot to swim.

At about nine o’clock on a chilly Friday evening in early May, I found myself on the deck of a boat, stripping down to my swimsuit, clipping lights to my goggles, and preparing to plunge into the frigid black water.

Here are seven words I never imagined I’d write: I’m training to swim the English Channel.

Almost two years ago, at the start of my outdoor swimming adventures, I bought this stupidly expensive back-zip swimsuit from Sweaty Betty.

In my memories, I grew up on a beach.

I started keeping a headache diary in early 2021.

In May 2019, I posted this (not great) picture of a (great) cat to Instagram.

I know nothing about Edward Lach other than this: He was born in a village in southern Poland, about 20 miles from Krakow.

The double lines in the little test window showed up remarkably fast.