Something of a heatwave today, air temperature up to 4C. Having initially thought I would be joining the ranks of the iron-men busying themselves in the duvet division, I headed down to the beach to link up with the other brave souls who were planning a dip. I'm late and I cannot see anyone else, and I am beginning to think that the iron-men and hellrunners have the right idea. But then I notice two silhouettes scampering across the sand into the water of the low tide, so armed with my new gloves and boots I head in after them. The cold is not so noticeable today, probably a combination of my body armour and the warmer air temperature, but it is still very hard on the face and takes a bit of getting used to, so it is not possible to swim more than a width between the groynes. At least these conditions provide Keith and myself with an opportunity to polish up our breaststroke and backstroke. The three of us continue to amuse ourselves with a variety of different strokes, purposeful thrashing around and frozen smiles like synchronised swimmers. After five minutes of this, we seem collectively uncertain if we ought to attempt some longer distances or whether we are just being foolish. Joan was out first, which makes sense as she was first in, followed by Keith and myself. Sea conditions were generally good although there was a wicked current coming in from the west (at least there was where I was standing). However, the real satisfaction is just being able to get into the sea water on a morning such as this. As has become customary, Joan supplied a bottle of hot water to revive those extremities that were feeling decidedly numb and frost-bitten. Thawed out, we drank our tea before trooping off home, confidently promising to see each other again on Wednesday but secretly wishing there were a few more swimmers in attendance just so that we did not have to feel guilty in the event of the alarm not going off.
Time: In 7:36, Out 7:54.
Swimmers: Keith, Joan and Paul C
(written by Paul)
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