Sunday 12th December, Cogden

3.45 Cogden

MG

And Lo, it came to pass – another beautiful Sunday, clear blue skies and much warmer. I suggest a walk by the sea to My Brother from Abroad (abroad in a place where they have saunas attached to their bathrooms as standard!) and put my swimming costume on under my clothes, just in case. With SW away and suspiciously quiet, and JJ bed bound with flu, I’ve got an obligation to represent the team, but I’m careful not to promise anything.

We walk the Mascot along the reed beds behind the beach and halfway round I spot a familiar curly greypelt advancing joyfully towards us – Percy and KH. We launch into discussion, treating MBFA to the interactive-blog experience (listening to us rambling about water temperature and recent experience). I hadn’t rung KH as I knew she’d ring me if she felt like a swim, but of course on seeing me she is instantly drawn by the lure the sea has over us. Last year she swam in December, long after I had been invalided out, but the snow and the cold snap have, quite understandably, broken her. I remind her it’s not a competition (which are hollow words as it quite obviously is a competition, but between unspecific competitors – the sea? The winter? The Prancers? The rest of the world?) but as we part MBFA bets me that by the time we pass again (we are going clockwise, KH anti-clockwise) KH will have given in to temptation and decided to join. Half an hour later I see her in the distance testing out the water temperature. But without her stuff and with a long walk back to the car she decides against and tears herself away with a visible wrench. It’s a painful parting as I know she’s thinking she will regret it, but let’s remind ourselves that she swam at the end of November, 3 months after normal people had stopped. And I hope she will reappear with flasks and hot water bottles to guide us through the dreaded dawn if 2011.

With KH’s figure receding in the distance, I tear off my clothes and advance, MBFA gallantly manning the mobile phone, smoking a fag, taking photos, reassuring the Mascot. Again, I’m ridiculously brave and apart from the burning in my arms and pounding of my heart, it isn’t too painful. Actually I think the boots (as well as the perfect conditions) help with this as they protect me from the first agonizing step when the nerve endings in my toes send a frantic SOS to my brain. By the time the water has lapped around my shins, I’m in too deep to give up. I manage a pretty respectable swim, in and out for three separate dips and even achieving a thought about the beauty of the setting sun in the mirror of the water and the pleasure of having MBFA here with me. Normally it’s imposible to think of anything except how much longer you can be in before your organs will start to shut down. I submerge – delicious brain freeze – and re-emerge feeling fantastic and glowing scarlet.

Walking back to the car I get a bit babbly and giggly and breathless, but never feel unbearably cold, just pleasantly chilled. And there is something extremely satisfying about going indeed. to a Carol Service that evening knowing I have SWUM IN THE SEA. Joyful and Triumphant indeed.