Cold Water Swimming

The following piece was written on 1 Nov 2020.

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It’s 8am this morning and I’m standing looking at the sea, it’s horizontal rain, 35mph winds and the tide is crashing its way on to the shoreline. Visibility is probably down to a kilometre.

I stand and say to myself, nope not this morning, it’s too rough and the water will be very cold.

I couldn’t resist and get changed — my favourite orange swimming shorts; the blue stripey ones are still soaking wet from being left outside overnight and yesterdays gorgeous swim — bright sun, a gentle but assertive wind. Although a contrast to today weather, it’s not really, as it is still weather but just a different pattern — the idea of duality, Yin-Yang warms me.

The horizontal rain hits my skin — it’s not cold. I dive into the sea — it’s cold but soon goes and a sense of balance surrounds my body. I play around in the waves; waves from out from the deep and rebounding waves, crashing into each other from the shoreline. The foam, the undercurrent, the wind, rain all surrounding me in a wash of foam.

I stand up, knee-deep, my feet shifting in the sand beneath me moving as I’m hit by wave, after wave, after wave nearly losing my balance.

And there I am exploring eight silk brocades in this weather — ‘what must I look like?’, I ask myself. Just a pair of orange swimming trunks, standing in the November sea on a Sunday morning.

I am still not cold.

I stand on the beach edge, allowing the full force of the wind and rain to wash over me.

I am still not cold.

Now with a sweatshirt on, writing this, now I’m shivering a little but it’s okay.

Thanks for reading.

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