In the wake of David Walliams' successful swim, Keren Levy recalls her experience tackling the Thames- Read about David Walliams' swim- More on wild swimmingIn the summer of 2010 I decided to attempt a Thames swim of just over two miles, a tiny bite sized morsel of David Walliams' 140 mile undertaking. Letting my work colleagues know of my decision proved to be an error. Solemn faced with the weight of their responsibility, they presented vivid accounts of the diseases and bacteria to which I would be vulnerable. On a promise to keep my mouth shut I persisted with my plan.On the morning of the swim I looked outside my window to see the Thames: viscous, brown and hostile. A few hours later and ten miles due west, I was one of 900 swimmers to enter it. The starting point for the swim, the incongruously named 'Cigarette Park Island', opposite Hampton Court, had a sludgy edge. Reeds felt foreign and soft underfoot but the water itself had a green-glass hue, thin and clear.Open water swimming had always been a passion for me. My swims to date however, had been in seawater, which is more buoyant than fresh. Like David Walliams, I found the rubber outline of a wetsuit between my body and the water unwelcome, but I wore it anyway, even though it seemed to get in the way of a more elemental experience. My front crawl felt restricted and my breaststroke was ridiculous.I focused on the charity in whose name I was taking part, and also pondered the literary souls who had travelled on these waters. 'J', Harris, George and Montmorency began their 'Three Men in a Boat' journey from Kingston-upon-Thames, so I was in good company, but by the halfway point I was running out of inspiration. I had been slow to find my rhythm and the downstream current did not seem to make itself felt. I had taken in gallons of water. Just in the nick of time crowds on the riverbank started to appear. A mix of supporters and others surprised on their weekend walk by the ranks of coloured caps on display, they were what made the difference. Once more I felt the joy of being among the rushes of the riverbank. There is no isolation on the Thames - you share your path with many others, from party boats to silent, territorial herons. On Walliams' long journey, he managed to avoid the angry swans and rescued a Labrador from a lock.As large chestnut trees and parkland came into view, the finish at Kingston Bridge was imminent. Photographers waiting on the towpath captured the elated faces of the exiting swimmers, whose heads displayed a 'post-forceps' look brought about by the tight hug of their swimming caps.Swimmers can be a driven group. Not generally identifiable by a particular sporty physique, their capacity for toil can fall under the radar. People say that swimming the 21 miles of the Channel (which Walliams did in 2006) is 80% mental attitude and 20% 'the rest', but what becomes of that equation over 140 miles? Perhaps you have to be a comedian to do it. Or at least acting out an inner comedy. Whichever it may be, you're definitely brave.As Walliams ploughed those final miles last night, passing under my Hammersmith window towards the Big Ben finish, I added my own heartfelt applause.SwimmingFitnessRiversKeren Levyguardian.co.uk © 2011 Guardian News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved. | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds
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