Burton Bradstock 2.00 Thursday 17th March

MG

I'm hankering after a Dartmoor swim – Cullever Steps, or Spitchwick Common, or the mythical, cosmic Glaze Brook where the universe may implode if I dare dip, but after some debate, PJ (famous for her startling fortitude at the Sharrah Pool, see 11th October 2010) makes the trip eastwards from Exeter, deciding that there is plenty of time ahead for the Dartmoor rivers when the water is a little less, shall we say, refreshing.

So it is we make our slow way to Burton on this glorious, perfect, truly springing day. "This is the weather the cuckoo likes, and so do I" and all that jazz. Despite urgings by self and, surprisingly, by the non-support support team (who gets more supportive by the day; in this case even helpfully pressing swimming costumes on the unwilling PJ) I'm a lone shark again and change and saunter, pausing only to accept PJ's admiration of my boots. Today even my first steps in are joyous as ahead of me in the wave break I can see that FINALLY the water is clear, gin clear, right down to the sandy bottom. This is the thing I have been most looking forward to, and I fall in and surge ahead with only a song in my heart.

It's amazing, I'd say the best swim of the year, but each in their own way is the best. This though feels different in the same way that the late October and November swims felt different; the seasons are changing and the water with them. I can swim without any agony, only two dips and each long and lingering, and I could easily stay in longer and swim further. What an absolute JOY it is to have this privilege, rising and falling with the slight swell, and gazing onward at the shadow of the Golden Cap in the unfaltering sunshine.

Knowing we have tea outside ahead of us, I don't go under and so miss out on the nerve tingling brain freeze I so love – but this does enable me to avoid any chill at all, as I leisurely chat and change into a motley collection of post-swimwear, which causes PJ to wince. And then – perfect conclusion, several enormous slices of cake over which we wonder, does breakfast, lunch and tea count as a triathlon?