Snow. It starts to fall as I am driving home from work in the early hours of Saturday, by the time I wake up some time later that day I have an exuberant message from M.G. high on her post swim afterglow. I make an extensive plan for the next morning’s high tide and pass the rest of the day with rugby and crumpets.
As I step out of the car tiny flakes swirl around me. I walk up over the bank on to the beach the wind hits my face and it is driving the waves hard at the shore. I can see some people walking further down the beach but my usual audience phobia is forgotten over the more practical challenges of peeling off all my layers. R.J. and my reluctant lifeguard seem to be taking a rather medieval attitude, regarding the swimming as an infectious disease which can only be caught by close proximity and are standing well back.
I yell to them to come and guard my pile of clothes which the wind is trying to strew across the beach but my words are lost above the roar and I gesture frantically. (Regarding the many layers I dug out some Salopettes which were perfect.)
I walk straight in to the water and thankfully the beach shelves away quickly and the water is deep. As I write I am trying to remember what it was like getting in, but I can’t recall it at all, one moment I was standing on the beach next up to my chest in water. My whole life my toes have always been a kind of barometer they now seem to be completely oblivious to whatever I dip them. I was a little breathless when fully in but nothing heart stopping. I was trying to be more aware of my body but what with the snow,low air temperature and weirdly today after a whole autumn of millpond calm actually quite a large swell I just felt very disorientated. However a few seconds after my hands go into the water a sharp tingling sensation starts. I move about quickly to try and work it off. It persists and I watch with a detached curiosity as my palms turn a fetching colour of purple. After this they contract into what can only be described as claws and I decided that’s probably the moment to get out. Hilarity as R.J. hands me a towel which I barely clutch at before it falls in the snow and he has to physically put it around me. Life guard goes back to the car to turn the heating on supposedly for my benefit not his. I huddle in the towel rubbing hands until I can dress myself. This seems to take FOREVER but I don’t feel cold just sort of stiff and clumsy. M.G. mentioned something yesterday about vice like pain as her toes defrosted, mine are definitely numb and thaw out very slowly which is a little uncomfortable but not too bad. Head back to the car as it starts to snow again. I drink my carefully spiked hot chocolate and am watched with expressions of bemusement. Why am I not collapsing? Crying in misery? After all the preparations I feel good, a hot drink is a definite must but I don’t feel the need to dash home and roast myself by the fire. Despite the fact that is exactly what I do.
P.S. I don’t think I will attempt another dip until my neoprene gloves have arrived as the reaction my hands are having really makes it pointless.
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