When I first heard about the 24-hour relay swim with Level Water, I didn’t need much convincing. I’d been aware of the charity since completing the Coniston end-to-end swim a couple of years back, and I loved the work they do. So when I spotted their updates about this challenge, it felt like the perfect opportunity to get involved again.
It wasn’t entirely out of the blue either. I’d already dipped my toe (quite literally) into endurance swims – Coniston and a 5K at Salford Quays – but this was different. This was about staying awake, showing up again and again, and swimming through the night. Last year I took part for the first time, and this summer I found myself back again, this time with a slightly different group of girls, extending on the bond we’d built at the Portishead Popsicle.
Training, Preparation, and Packing Dryrobes
My training wasn’t anything special – just my usual outdoor swims and fitness routine. In the lead-up, I tried to ensure I was holding out for the full hour in my regular swims to get into the rhythm of what the relay would demand.
Nutrition was the bigger challenge. With shorter gaps between swims than last year, I needed to fuel carefully without weighing myself down. Being dairy-free adds another layer of planning, but with a bit of prep I had plenty of options to keep me going.
Logistics were perhaps the most challenging part. Coordinating swim times, sleeping arrangements, and kit via WhatsApp could have been its own endurance event! Luckily, we managed it (and learned a lot about each other’s camping styles along the way).
Swimming into Sunrise
My first swim was easy – I was third in the order, so I had time to settle in and treat it like a regular dip. But by my third slot, at 11pm, the fatigue hit. I remember realising: I still have four more hours of swimming ahead. That was my low point. I slowed my pace right down – my Garmin stats for that swim are laughable – but it was the only way through.
Then came the 4–6am shift. I’d managed to sleep beforehand, and as the sky slowly lightened during my swim, I found myself smiling again. That quiet moment, watching the sunrise from the water, was one of the most beautiful and memorable parts of the whole event.
The Power of Teamwork
One of the best things about this challenge is that it isn’t a solo mission – it’s a community effort. During the day, we’d gather at the swim entry point to cheer each other on. At night, sleep became more important, but the sense of camaraderie was still there.
I loved the little ways we looked out for each other, like taking Dryrobes down to the water for whoever was just getting out. It might sound small, but when it’s raining (which it was, a lot), those thoughtful touches make all the difference.
And having visitors – my husband Andy, Mitch’s family, and Rosie – gave us all a boost. Andy even arrived with my favourite dairy-free chocolate, which kept me going far better than champagne at the finish line ever could!
Lessons and Takeaways
What I’ve taken away from this experience isn’t just about swimming. It’s about teamwork, resilience, and connection. As we say on the Dippy site, our brand celebrates the bonds forged in the water – and that’s exactly what this challenge gave me.
I learned that Jane is a camping goddess (and that I might snore louder than I realised). I learned that it’s okay to slow down when you need to. And I was reminded, again, that you don’t need to be the fastest or most technical swimmer to take part in something like this – it’s truly accessible to anyone willing to plan their fuel, hydration, and sleep as carefully as their swim strokes.
Would I do it again? If you’d asked me at midday on Sunday as we packed up camp, the answer would have been a firm “no.” But I know when next year’s dates are announced, I’ll feel that familiar pull.
Final Reflections
The first thing I did when I got home? A hot bath. Pure heaven.
If I had to sum up the 24-hour relay in three words, they’d be: challenging, fun, community. And through every tough moment, my little mantra kept me going – the words my yoga teacher once gave me before Coniston:
“One more stroke.”
