Don't worry I'm not going to bore you with so much detail again this week.  Just the highlights and down points of the event including standing naked at the side of the road, nearly knocking myself unconscious and crashing in to a bush at 20+mph.

Our weekend started with a drive up to Edinburgh on Thursday, we arrived to find that Fran had done an amazing job of booking our accommodation; it was amazing, really spacious and a stones throw from the city centre.  If you haven't been to Edinburgh it really is worth the trip, it's a truly magnificent place.

Fran was uber organised and had already prepared a beef bourguignon that was amazing.  Lots of our friends had prepared cakes of various types so there was plenty of dessert too.

On Friday, we had to register and send our run bag of with the organisers to the transition area on the other side of Scotland.  They told us that the full distance swim was on because the water temperature was up to 12C; that worried me a little as the furthest I has swam in training was only half distance due to time constraints.  Fran reminded me that they were generally self inflicted time constraints due to my talking or helping others out.

On one training swim where I was limited for time, I ended up helping somebody with a walking stick down to lake side and having a chat with her as it was her first open water swim.  I reassured her and eased her in to the water with the help of her friend (who was in her 60's) and made sure she was ok before heading off.  I realised that I then only had time to do 1600m instead of my planned 2400m.

On race morning, our alarm was set for 3.30am.  Not a nice thought when you're staring at your watch at 11.00pm wondering why you're not a sleep yet.

A quick breakfast of scrambled eggs, I didn't fancy the toast so the dogs got a treat and off we headed to the race village.

It was a beautiful morning as you can see below, the sea was calm and the forecast for the day was great.  There was an underlying buzz of adrenaline, apprehension, fear and excitement as the race director went through the rules for the day.

We headed down to the water and lined up waiting for the off.

I'm not a quick swimmer and haven't had chance to swim in a pack, so stuck to the back.   I could see the marker buoy in the water and it looked a long, long way away, nerves started to kick in.  My open water swim training was in a lake, where I often crashed in to the bank due to my inability to go in a straight line.  This was going to be the furthest away from being able to touch the floor I had been.  I looked down at my wrist to check the time and saw my 'Team Achieve' wristband - I knew I was going to 'be alright'.

The horn went and everyone dived in and flailed their arms around like crazy trying to get ahead of the bunch; I took a more casual approach and waded in, lifeguard swam for 50m and then settled in to my stroke.  Surprised and pleased that I had avoided ice cream headache.

As I tried to spot the buoy to make sure I was going in the right direction, I couldn't see it through all of the splashing.  The pack was also really spread out with other swimmers in all directions, I remembered one of the legs of the Forth Road Bridge was near the buoy and headed for that.

15 minutes later I realised that it was quite close to it from the bank about 1000m away, up close I realised I had gone about 200m off course.  A quick change of direction and I was back on target.

'Spotting' is a skill that I've only just started to get the hang of.  It basically means glancing forwards every 3 or 4 strokes to check you're going in the right direction.  I've made some horrendous and lengthy mistakes in the past, following a swan that I thought was the white buoy being the most comical.  It wasn't until I realised that it just the same as having two dogs who take synchronised poo's meaning you have to pick up one while glancing at where the other one went that it clicked.

Heading around the second buoy, I got a little disorientated as I hadn't gone far enough round and couldn't see the next marker.  The sun was also glinting of the sea making it difficult to see where to go, I just followed the splaying and carried on.

I hit the half way point (1900m) and checked my watch and was really pleased with the time; 40ish minutes.  That was my fastest time by far for that distance.  I started getting ahead of myself, thinking that a 1:20 swim was now possible instead of my prediction of 1:35ish.

The field had really spread out now and I could clearly see the far buoy and headed off towards it.  I felt good, I've had a niggling shoulder injury that I'd been ignoring and I could feel it a little but I was pretty relaxed in the water and seemed to be motoring along.

About 800m in I realised that I was still motoring but the buoy didn't seem to be getting closer.  I ploughed on.

I then noticed that a small group appeared to be cheating and were heading off towards the next buoy without making it past this one.  A little pissed off, I ploughed on.  I looked up and a rescue canoe had stopped in front of me.  

They weren't cheating, the buoy had escaped and we were off course (this time through no fault of my own).  A change in direction and I was heading for the final leg of the swim.  

Around the final marker and on towards the jetty in to the sun again.  I was feeling good and put a little bit of pace on and managed to catch up a couple of swimmers who were ahead of me.

I got out of the water, had a little pose for the cameras and head up the jetty where Michaela told me that Fran was going to meet me in transition because I 'cocked' about too much last year talking to her :)

Colin had suggested wearing compression shorts under my wetsuit so I could just pull my cycling shorts straight on and not worry about breaking the rules of nudity in transition, something I did in both last year.  It was a wise decision as Steve's little sister Abbey was there.

Sergeant Major Fran kept me moving, stuffing a ham sandwich down my mouth and slapping on some sun cream.  I pulled my shoes on and stood up, whacking my head on the scaffold pole my bike was hanging on.  I went a little dizzy, swore, apologised for swearing to Abbey, posed for a picture with Steve, grabbed my bike and headed off on the 110 mile ride, which I'll cover tomorrow.

Each time I doubted myself on the swim and my ability to complete it, I'd catch a glimpse of my wristband and know I could do it.  I've never really worn a wristband before, the whole charity wristband thing seemed more about fashion than anything else.  I give to charity but didn't feel the need to display about it.