Thursday 24th February, The Hive, 9.15

MG

After another failed swim attempt earlier in the week, we have resolved to swim today by hook or by crook. I have lobbied for a swim outing to Ringstead after the West Bay sea on Wednesday was a muddied silver with thrashing waves and a layer of scum. On top of the customary February battle to overcome the internal hibernation voice, it's not enough to persuade us. In my mind, Ringstead is a paradise of still waters and clear sea – though in fact I'm basing this on a few August visits, so who knows really. But time is pressing on us, and we agree to assess conditions in the early morning.

Waking up to the dulcet tones of Jim Naughtie proclaiming that today's weather would be "spring-like" SW and I are in textual communication quite ridiculously early and arrange to meet at Burton at 9.15; the Ringstead outing must await another day. "Are you going to the leisure centre?" asks my non-support support team, suspiciously watching me fill a thermos with cocoa "ummm…." I avert "it depends on your definition of "leisure centre"…".

At the still sleeping beach (I don't think I've ever been here so early) the sun is just squinting through the scudding clouds, and the waves, though still annoyingly thrashy, muddied and breaking just on the shelf, are certainly better than previous days this month. And at least there is no wind. SW is jubilant and enthusiastic. I want to be. But I'm battling the internal voice; February seems to have been the month that really takes insistence and determination not to just curl up and have a snooze. SW ignores my whining as we change and advance. The first spray is like a hail of bullets and I feel like crying. The waves look enormous and every time there's a calm patch a monster wave appears on the horizon. After several minutes of agonised prancing (yes, PRANCING! What has happened to us!) I run back up the beach to get my camera to capture SW drying his wings, cormorant style, in a valiant attempt to have as little contact with the water as possible...

But then, just as I'm really considering giving up, SW is suddenly in, actually swimming. Now there's no question and choosing my moment I grit my teeth, throw myself in and join him. The glow of satisfaction meets the burn of cold almost cancelling it out. We're swimming! At last! We do many bursts in the end, in and out, surfing in on the waves which once in are not as frightening as I'd thought, though at one point I do give SW permission to drink the cocoa if I drown. "We really ought to stop" he says as we poise on the edge for another dip, but it's just too tempting – the rush and submerge, the burn, the thrill and jubilation, followed by hysteria – it seems more pronounced this time than for a long time, perhaps because I'd come so close to bailing, perhaps because it has been 5 weeks since our last swim (though some would say 3…), perhaps because the water must be at about it's coldest point of the year now. Eventually, after a few more runs and dives, we skip back to the towels and the cocoa, to toast SW who has now officially swum every single month of the year; I have next month still to do. But despite this, I allow myself much self congratulation.

Not even washing seagull mess off my car for the third day running can dampen my exhilaration; as SW memorably said after one of our November swims "I have seaweed in my hair and sand in my eye, I am happy".

Things we are EXCITED about

a) EVERYONE must listen to this - Jan Etherington's book choice is glorious Waterlog and she and Mr Hislop are suitably awesome about it, which for me is pleasing on many diffferent levels.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00yqshz/A_Good_Read_Ian_Hislop_Jan_Etherington/

b) With crocuses and snowdrops making their tentative appearances, we can really truly believe that the spring and all it's joyous swimming moments are somewhere on the horizon...



Friday 18th Feb, early morning, Brighton

HL; Special Guest

I arrived in Brighton yesterday for our annual Sales Conference & it was the most beautiful, sunny day so to be told I had to sit in an airless vacuum for 6 hrs with only strobe lighting for stimulation whilst the sunlight was dancing like diamonds on the sea outside, was almost too much to bear! Even worse I realised in my panicked packing that I had forgotten my crucial swimming gear but undeterred I recruited a fellow Penguin (the human, book publishing sort!) to come for a dip with me the next day. 

That was at 2am last night whilst we were dancing away to Glee's "Dont Stop Believing" at the gala dinner and it seemed like a good idea. But when my alarm rudely shocked me out of my dreamy reverie I wasn't so sure which was more alluring-the deep blue or the deep sleep?  But luckily the sea won over & kitted out in nothing more than undies & high heels (no other footwear with me) RM & I snuck passed reception & fled to the beach! The misty sun shone on the calm water & warmed us as we stripped, ran, ducked & were in! Yes, the euphoric feeling never goes but sadly nor does the stinging, freezing feet syndrome!  So back we went & hobbling over the pebbles we wrapped ourselves in the White, fluffy, contraband hotel towels & enjoyed the sea-salt rush -surely the best way to start the day. Ignoring the hoots from cars & vans as we ran back to the hotel in our towels we managed to slip in a side entrance undetected!  

Later, seeing the bleary, red eyes of many hungover colleagues we rather smugly enjoyed our brekkie & contemplated if we could commute from Brighton everyday just so we could have the same feeling?!

Happy Valentine's Day!

MG

A special treat....

This is definitely the look I am going for...

xx

So near...

Massive apologies from the northern wastes a rather brutal work schedule and other tedious life things have kept me out of the sea so far this year. So my only contribution is a brief glimpse of Norfolk sunshine and a mirror like river Ouse taken on my cycle ride home yesterday after work.

J.J.

West Bay 2.45 12th February

MG

I'm awoken early by something I can't identify. Then I realise - sunshine! After interminable days and days of drizzle and mist, it's a thrill to see the sun breaking through watery clouds and, by lunch time, shining out of an almost clear blue sky. SW is on changeover day, but we arrange to slot in a quick swim before he leaves for his Town House; the chance is too good to miss as I'm not overawed by February's swimming so far (what SW counts, but I'm dubious about – last weeks hilarity filled submerging, but the Northern Outpost has fallen silent…). I motor down with the wearisome Mascot in tow. Another huge bonus of winter swimming for us is that we are able to bypass the sweaty masses that clog up OUR beach in July and August; today gives us a foretaste of it with a crowded car park and a thronging beach. I'm already in a bad mood, made worse by a gale whistling through me as I get out of the car, blowing the mascot's fur back to front. SW arrives, and we make our way to the beach. The sea looks bad. Rolling waves are washing in, grey and stormy, and even with the sun shining down which normally makes the worst seas look appetising, it's not alluring.

We make our way to the winter bathing spot where it looks calmer and gaze glumly down. I'm just thinking it does actually look possible if we choose our moment, when SW lets out a murmur of disquiet. He's got six hours on a train ahead of him and isn't relishing the prospect of being wet and cold and sandy and salty. As he says it, an enormous breaker roars up, swashes over the pier and engulfs us both. We are drenched to the knees, and retire to the sand bank to empty out our shoes and discuss better days ahead. The spring time Pilgrimages. South Dorset to the right. Dartmoor and rivers to the left. And the New Forest… somewhere in between.

.

Parting at the cars with a promise to meet the week after next when we are both back (I don't suggest it at the time, but I'm suggesting it now – Ringstead bay? It's always calmer there?) the mascot and I stop on the way home to test out a theory various quarters have been bandying around. A brisk walk up a steep hill in a strong wind is as good as a sea swim. The hill cures my bad mood, I'll give it that, but it's no substitute. Looking down at the wrinkled sea, I want to BE IN IT!

Thursday 3rd February 2011, 12 noon, West Bay

Does this count??

A glorious day, still and sunny in the garden. A definite swimming day. MG and I arrange to meet at west bay for our first February dip and for me my first full year swim (having started in March 2010, my only – rather lax - rules being a minimum of one unheated outdoor swim per month).

We meet in the car park and are immediately concerned by the strong winds coming off the beach. I have just moved house and the new place is sheltered from the south westerlies giving me a false idea of calm from home.

Reaching the beach and seeing the 4-5 ft waves breaking at low tide, just on a steeply shelving slope did not help. We get extra cautious when the sea temp is low and 5.2 deg c is low enough without having to worry about being stuck in the water waiting for a calm patch before being able to swim in again. Stuck for 5 minutes in normal temps is fine but common sense prevails in the cold and we decide its just too rough for a full swim… (it was rougher than it looks below!)

… however, we are all psyched up and desperate for some cold water and so get changed anyway and play in the surf, lie down in the waves (avoiding being sucked out to sea with the backwash) and I even manage a few feet of breast stroke in the moments of still and shallow water left by a large wave before its retreat.

Oddly it was even more difficult to lie down in shallow water and let the cold waves wash over us than normal swimming. I think we rely on getting out of our depth and having no choice but to swim. Sitting in freezing water just seems a bit odd!

We decide it just about counts as a swim as we did both go fully under a number of times and manage a few moments with feet off the ground and if nothing else it will keep our cold water acclimatization going.

Leaving the beach after 5 minutes basking in the warm sun we had two aerial treats. Firstly a small group of ravens hovered about 4 feet above our heads on the thermals from the cliffs, allowing us a rare and fortunate close up encounter and then the same birds joined with the falmers, crows, jackdaws, sea gulls and pigeons in a massed attack on a man-made interloper who was invading their territory – a motorized paraglider. It was amazing to see the paraglider swoop over the beach and amazing to see him being mobbed by a huge assortment of birds.

SW

Sunday 30th January, 5.00

No swim as arrived too late and a busy, sunday-strollers beach, but are we bored yet of hearing how West Bay is the most beautiful place on earth?

A pillared gate-way somebody had built...

And then, a perfect sunset...

Oh, and an in-joke for SW... another reason for winter swimming.... !

Here's to February...