OncoSwim – Raises Money, Gives Life

The “onco” in OncoSwim references oncology – the study of cancer. Today´s event will raise funds for research into prostate cancer. In previous years it was for breast cancer. This is the fifth edition of OncoSwim, organised by my Xina swim club, and it´s by far the largest: in the sense of competitors, sponsors and events. As a muscle warm-up to the main 1.6km swim, a local gymnasium has just led us through a stretching class on the beach. Then, whilst we are out on the big swim, about 30 people will do in a 1km marcha aquatica event – which is marching along in waist-deep water. At the same time, those who are unsure of their distance swimming ability will do a 200 metre swim under supervision.

I really enjoy the challenge of mass starts where, for the first hundred metres or so, participants swim side by side, and toe-to-head in a writhing mass of bodies. As your adrenalin now gets to express itself and you search for your rhythm, people accidentally clonk you in the head with their arm or foot: and you accidentally clonk them. The trick is…don´t stop swimming. Don´t lift your head to see who clonked you, or why. It doesn´t matter. Anyhow, by stopping, you will immediately get run into by the person coming up behind you. So, keep your head down and stay swimming no matter how often you get hit. One tactic I use is to slightly open the gait of my arms. This effectively widens the space I am occupying and prevents the person beside me from getting too close. Well, that´s the theory. In reality, it´s best just to keep swimming. And so I did; onwards to the first buoy, then down the back straight. As my strokes and breathing and kick settled into a nice routine, I thought to myself: We are lucky, Tarragona has its best face on today. For most of the course, the sea-bed was about four metres below me; and yet I could see fish and the lines in the sand as if I was looking through a glass-bottomed boat.

A community sporting event is not about winning: just participation. However, the euphoria amongst the finishers spoke to deeper emotions. Some had just achieved a personal ambition: to swim that distance in open waters. Many were being photographed arm in arm with their fellow swim club members. So, a sense of collective achievement. Mothers who had swum were now grinning with satisfaction as they held up and kissed their small children. Swimmers of all ages, shapes and sizes congratulated one another as the stories of getting clonked during the mass start were told with great theatre.

Before we had entered the water, I saw numerous people standing entirely alone in the expectant throng of swimmers. Having done it myself many times, I know it´s not easy to stand in silence when all those around you are in animated conversations. So I take my hat off to anyone prepared to pay their money and join a community event – alone. Who knows? Perhaps those I saw today had a family member who had cancer and died? And this is their silent homage to that person. Or perhaps they know someone who is ill? Or maybe they are just very civic-minded people who want to do their bit. Either way, I hoped they were now somewhere in this post-swim crowd where adrenalin had given way to euphoria.

Shortly after emerging from the water, I bumped into my next-door neighbour. I hadn´t known she would be swimming. I noticed also that some of my fellow swimmers were people with whom I had had a nodding acquaintance around town. When I saw a shop attendant and a bank teller whom I see frequently, I went over and said hello, now knowing we have something extra in common. In Spanish, we use the word “solidaridad” to mean supporting a good cause. (Solidarity, in English). Today´s long swim was referred to as a “mila de solidaridad”. A mile of solidarity. The Spanish are very good at coming out when their community needs them. In total, we raised 11,000 euros. And we had bloody good fun doing it.