Some stories are worth sharing - and when we heard about Elly Hench's attempt at her 'Lap of the Lakes' - we needed to find out more. This is no ordinary day in the lakes. It was a journey of discovery - both mentally and physically. No training could've prepared her for what she was about to take on.
Over to Elly - to tell the story, in her own words:
"Three years ago I swam all the lakes in the Lake District that you’re allowed to swim, and I knew I wanted another, bigger challenge. I’d started running as well, so I wanted to include that this time. I put a few ideas out on my Instagram last year and let everyone vote, and they chose the Lap of the Lakes. I actually made them vote again because I thought, “Surely not,” but even more people chose it the second time!
I always downplay these things, so I was just like, “Yeah, I’m doing another challenge” If anyone asked. But inside I was thinking, this is actually quite scary, especially because I didn’t really consider myself a runner yet. I don’t think I fully appreciated the size of what I’d signed up for.
I actually started off trying to follow military regulations, but because of the scale of the challenge, that quickly fell apart. Thankfully, because I’d swum the lakes before, I already knew where to get in and out and what I needed to be aware of. The running routes, though, I pretty much just Googled how to get from A to B and thought, “Yeah, that’ll be fine.” I was probably quite naive of me. I forgot about terrain and elevation!.
The hardest part was probably the evenings once we stopped. I’d close my tent, get into bed and just cry. I don't really like crying in front of people, so I think I held it in during the day or was just too focused on the task at hand and waited until I was on my own. My family and the girls had done everything for me, so by the time I got back to camp I was basically on autopilot. I just had to shower, pyjamas, recovery drink, bed, then try to switch my brain off to sleep while my whole body hurt.
During the day my brain would constantly give me excuses to stop, my knees hurt, the water was cold, I didn’t want to put on another wet wetsuit or eat another bagel. But I just kept ignoring those thoughts and pushing on. I wanted to see how far I could get and how far I could actually push myself and I didn’t want to let myself or everyone supporting me down.
The biggest thing the planning taught me was that trying to plan, train for and then physically do something this big is a lot to carry on your own so in future I would either do the planning or the participating. Not both. I was almost burning myself out before I’d even got to the start line.
I don’t think there was ever a specific moment where I genuinely considered stopping. There were definitely plenty of “Oh, for God’s sake, do I really have to do this?” moments, or times I was internally mad because I wanted an extra hour in bed, but stopping never really entered my head. I just carried on.
What kept me going was wanting to see how far I could push myself and I don’t think I’ve scratched the surface there. It was also everyone supporting me physically and virtually, and the charity. I’d scroll through people’s messages when things were hard and some would make me well up and others would motivate me and remind me that we can do hard things
I’ve never got to the point where I’ve needed headphones, even though swimming 15, 16 or 17 kilometres can be mind-numbingly boring I just raw dog it. Especially in the deeper lakes where it’s just pitch black below you there’s absolutely nothing to see, which I actually prefer because I don’t want to know what’s down there.
My brain just ticks away. I’ll think about logistics for the team, start doing random maths equations, get a song stuck in my head, or I’ll pop up and ask whoever’s with me the most random question. I think open water is actually where my brain processes everything and does its own thing. It’s just me and my thoughts, and somehow that keeps me going.
I don’t think there was one specific thing that surprised me, but I didn’t know I could keep going for 14-hour days over five days and still adapt to whatever was thrown at me, different terrain, weather, wetsuits, everything.
I think what was nice to see was that I could still be myself through it. I’d have moments where I needed to cry or just go completely non-verbal and lock in, but there wasn’t a day where I didn’t crack a joke or smile. I think it just showed me my ability to keep going, no matter how tired I was.
I’d been exposed to cold water before, but because of the heatwave this year, I hadn’t actually done much cold-water training. Some of those lakes are incredibly deep and cold, so it was about getting through that initial catching of your breath, shove your face in the water and then just moving through it. The longer ones I’d feel a lot more to my core. My hands and feet would be numb but you just have to ignore it.
I wouldn’t say it’s completely changed my relationship with discomfort, but it’s made me realise I shouldn’t be such a wimp about uncomfortable things in day to day life. I’ve proved to myself that I can still perform when I’m uncomfortable, so now my brain can go, “Come on don't be a pussy we know you can do hard stuff.”
No training session can ever recreate the exact circumstances you’re going to face and that’s for all sports. I hadn’t really trained in cold water, I live down south so I couldn’t train on mountains, and there were so many things I couldn’t prepare for.
The challenge taught me that whatever hand you’re dealt, you just deal with it. Instead of thinking, “Oh for God’s sake, this is going to be hard,” I became much quicker at going, “Okay, yeah, that’s going to be hard, but we’ll do it.” Training prepares you physically, but actually being out there taught me how quickly I can adapt and overcome. And it definitely doesn’t prepare you mentally. You might do a five-hour session knowing that once it’s done, you’re finished for the day. But during the challenge, I’d finish what would normally be a full training session and think, “Right, now I’ve basically got to do that another three times.” I genuinely wouldn’t think about the next activity or the next day. I would just face it when it arrived.'
Elly's Stats:
11 lakes, 59.3km, 27hrs1min, Swam.
13 legs, 137.44km, 27hrs54min, Ran.
4665m/15,308ft elevation (equivalent of 3.5 x Ben Nevis).
12 members of support crew.
6 locations for campsites/ accommodation.
Est. 32,000 calories burned.
£4762 raised for Head Up (and still going up).
3 rolls of rock tape used.
100’s of tears shed.
3 blisters.
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