LITMIR.BIZ

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that’s gentle, do you want to tell me what you’d classify as rough?’ I asked.

      ‘Oh, lad,’ he said with a concerned smile. ‘You’ve been swimming in the Inner Hebrides between the islands off mainland Scotland. These are close together, sometimes only a mile apart, and so offer some shelter from the wind and waves. If a storm comes in you can easily pull into a harbour for food and supplies and maybe even sample some famous Hebridean hospitality and a local single-malt whisky.’

      As he said this he turned towards Kyle of Lochalsh, a place where you could hear the ancient Gaelic language being spoken and sung by folk musicians in the local pub.

      ‘You won’t find any of that once you swim under the Skye Bridge,’ he warned. ‘Once you pass under there, you’re heading to the Outer Hebrides and beyond. With nowhere to hide or shelter from a storm, it’s over 30 miles wide. You won’t be welcomed with whisky up there. Instead you’ll find 50-knot Arctic storms and 20-ft waves. Jellyfish might be the least of your worries.’

      We all stood in silence for a moment and looked at the Skye Bridge. Spanning less than a mile across, it connects the island of Skye with mainland Scotland and the village of Kyle of Lochalsh over water that, prior to 1995, was only crossable by boat. Now it would become a pivotal landmark in the Great British Swim.

      I had been on our boat this morning doing a round of interviews with the media along with some local fishermen intrigued about my round Britain adventure. The tide had begun to turn, which signalled the media interviews were over and another swim was about to begin. As the journalists and fishermen left the boat, I sat in silence with Matt as I delicately attempted to put on my cold, clammy wetsuit over my tender and raw wounds. As I did, one lone writer lingered on deck and plucked up the courage to ask three final questions that would become integral to both the swim and this book:

       ‘Why are you doing this?

       ‘Why doesn’t your body break?’

       ‘How does your mind not quit?’

      In truth, I was still trying to answer these questions for myself.

      Fatigue and pain were deeply entrenched in each and every cell of my body, and as I sat there they were threatening to bring a stop to the swim. In front of the journalist, even though I was still not 100 per cent sure of the answers, I tried my very best to articulate the conclusion I’d come to so far after 74 days at sea.

      ‘I think the reason my body hasn’t broken and my mind hasn’t quit (yet) is because I’ve been able to fuse the teachings of ancient Greek philosophers with modern sport scientists to form my own form of philosophy called Stoic Sports Science.’

      The journalist appeared puzzled at first but then nodded with his pen and notepad poised as if eagerly anticipating my next answer, hoping I was about to dispense some profound, deep and spiritual seafaring wisdom. But unfortunately, I had nothing else for him. Since I still had over 900 miles left to swim, my newly found philosophy was far from proven. But I told him if I completed the swim, I would finish my study and the book.

      ‘Then I’ll have to wait to buy a copy,’ he said laughing.

      I smiled as we sat there taking in the vast expanse of our surroundings while pondering what had brought us together in this unlikely gathering.

      ‘Okay, why are you doing this then?’ he asked.

      I looked at Matt. He looked back at me with knowing eyes. Nothing needed to be said.

      The memory of the start of this journey (and life back on land) seemed like a lifetime ago. Many miles, tides and sunsets had passed since that day. But to understand why we were doing this, you must understand we as humans have been practising the art of resilience for centuries. It’s the one key trait we possess over all other species. Therefore, in many ways, what began on 1 June 2018 on the sands of Margate beach in southeast England was just an exaggerated expression of our unique human ability to find strength when suffering.

       PART 1 | LIFE ON LAND (BEFORE THE SWIM)

       CHAPTER 1 | WHY DID I DO IT?

      LOCATION: Margate

      DISTANCE COVERED: 0 miles

      DAYS AT SEA: 0

      It’s 7.00 a.m. on 1 June 2018 in the small coastal town of Margate. Tucked away on England’s southeast coast, this seaside resort has down the years served as a magnet for Londoners, with its sandy beaches less than 80 miles away from the capital. In fact, Margate has an old-world charm that makes the ice cream parlours, pie and mash shops and amusement arcades seem almost timeless. Yet the town’s history is also closely tied to the sea and the absence of their once great Victorian pier, destroyed after a storm in 1978, is a constant reminder to the locals (and all who visit) of the ocean’s power.

      This is why the British coastline was the ideal ‘testing ground’ to research The Art of Resilience. Known around the globe for having some of the world’s most dangerous tides, waves and weather, every menacing whirlpool, rugged headland and North Sea storm would become a tool for me to sharpen my mind and harden my body.

      But why Margate to start? When planning for the swim, we decided we needed to swim clockwise around Great Britain because the prevailing winds affecting our island are from the west or southwest. So we would be facing the ‘harder’ half of the journey – if we made it down the south coast, around Cornwall and up the Irish Sea towards western Scotland – during the summer months. The ‘easier’ half of the swim would theoretically be over the top of Scotland and down the east coast of Britain where we would be more sheltered from the southwesterlies by the topography of the coastline. Speed was of the essence, however, in order to complete our mission before the onset of winter.

      But this morning, standing on the beach looking out to sea, I had absolutely no idea what lay ahead. Many people considered this ‘swimming suicide’, believing it was an impossible swim that was foolish to even attempt. But to quote the award-winning novelist Pearl S Buck, ‘The young do not know enough to be prudent, and therefore they attempt the impossible – and achieve it, generation after generation.’

      Which is why my plan was simple. Using myself as a sea-dwelling, human guinea pig I would attempt to complete the first 1,780-mile swim in history all the way around Great Britain, while putting to test the science behind strength, stoicism and fortitude. As I researched the intricacies of resilience on this swim, my goal was to fully understand what makes the human spirit so unbreakable.

      The regulations governing the swim were pretty straightforward too. It would be classed as ‘the world’s longest staged sea swim’ (where the distance of the individual stages can vary each day, and the start point of each stage begins at the finish point of the previous stage) and would abide by the rules of the World Open Water Swimming Association (WOWSA) and the Guinness Book of World Records. I would be fitted with an electronic GPS tracker and my location recorded with WOWSA at the end of each day’s swim. I would also tow an inflatable buoy during every swim for safety (especially at night, since it contained a flashing light so I could be seen). I myself insisted that I would not set foot on land during the entire swim, but would take my rest periods out on the water on a support boat.

      Of course, this wasn’t a solo endeavour. To even contemplate a swim of this magnitude I needed a boat captain equipped with ironclad fortitude and years of experience sailing in the most adverse conditions Mother Nature could conjure up. Then I needed a crew with unwavering faith who would sail day and night alongside me, through hell and high water, to make this mission a success.

      But instead of finding a team, I found something far better. I found a family.

      The

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