I spoke too soon.
With my now application accepted I arranged to meet the Arch
to Arc team. They invited me to an
awards ceremony for all those ‘Enduromen’ (and women) who had undertaken
challenges in 2012. It was an occasion
of contrasts.
Over the summer two men had attempted the Arch to Arc within
weeks of each other. Both were
phenomenal athletes, and particularly strong swimmers; both had decided to
forego the wetsuit (allowed in the Arch to Arc but not normally permitted for a
channel crossing); and both had the world record – a marker that had stood
since the very first Arch to Arc 10 years earlier – in their sights.
The first contender set out in perfect conditions, arrived
at a placid sea, crossed uneventfully and rode into Paris, smashing the
long-standing record. The second had a markedly
different experience.
The sea temperature had dropped dramatically following weeks
of bad weather, and the only reprieve (when a crossing could even be
considered) came in the middle of the night.
The air and the water were cold.
Maliciously, mercilessly, bone-chillingly cold.
Just past halfway it got too much. Displaying unbelievable drive and determination,
this incredible man swam until he blacked out.
His body disappeared beneath the waves and had to be dragged out,
unconscious. Despite not making the Arc,
it was this man’s bravery that struck me most.
That, and terror.
I left this ‘celebratory’ occasion with an icy feeling of
foreboding and the words of the organisers ringing in my ears: “There is no way
to cheat your way through”.
It’s time to start serious training: it could be the
difference between life and death.
No comments:
Post a Comment