Dipping A Toe In The Sand

I’m standing on the shore and the old guys coming out of the water are telling me it’s the best it’s been all year, and much warmer than yesterday.  Now yesterday was bloody cold, so any improvement is welcome.  But the sun is shining and looking at their open, friendly faces, I believe them.  Idiot!

Plunging into the waves, the shock almost takes my breathe away.   I come up for air (and to scream), only to get a face full of salty water, as the next strong roller nearly knocks me on my back.  Struggling to right myself and grasp a breath, I come up again and sneak a glance at the girls on either side. We’ve got a couple of channel swimmers out tonight and their long limbs sweep palely ahead into the torn and angry sea as they pull ahead, aiming for High Rock or maybe even the Tower – far out of my league.  There’s Jessica from last night, who’s been ‘minding’ me for a couple of swims now, and is fast becoming a life-line.  Either I get quicker, or I’ll soon become a nuisance, but for the moment I’m happy to accept the help and the company out here.

The high breakers are new to me and it’s a case of head down and push to get out beyond the break-water, then on a choppy but less violent sea, I get back into my stroke and my rhythmn and swim out parallel to the shore in the direction of High Rock.  I’m not used to this choppy water, but after a while I start to enjoy the slap and battle of pushing through.  It seems faster than last night when I spot the red bars of the High Rock bathing spot ahead… and it probably was faster, because when I turn to head back, the tide hits me in the face – lifting me up out of the water and slapping me down through air onto the green sloping waves below.  I realised too that I’d managed to get myself seperated from the rest of the swimmers who had broken into groups.   I could see a couple of caps heading off in the distance, presumably aiming for The Tower and for a moment I hesitated and thought I should follow.  But it was cold, and rough, and I hadn’t swum in sea this rough before, so I gather myself and head for home.

It was much rougher swimming into the diagonal surf and I felt I was being battered as I pushed on, but once I got used to the rough and tumble I began to enjoy it, and with the sun piercing through the greeny light of the water, I felt a grin working its way between my ears.   After about 20 minutes I see the yellow blaze of the clubhouse up ahead and relax a little.  I take my bearing between a type of castle silloutted against the setting sun and a dark blip somewhere in the distance towards Malahide, and push ahead, checking my landmarks every 15 or 20 strokes.  My swimming colleagues caught up and checked me out before bolting off ahead.  I so wish I had their speed, but maybe in time.   Approaching the swim-in to Low Rock, my buddy Vanessa pops up beside me like a seal, but wearing a pink swimming cap.  Laughing she commented on the waves and advised me to ‘dig in’ for the shore and dig-in I did!  It was a tough swim in, for me the toughest of the 43 minutes I spent in the water tonight.  I felt the waves pulling me back away from the beach despite my best efforts, but gradually I could see the shore coming towards me, and before long I chanced a toe down, and with relief gripped the sandy bottom below.  I’d made it.  Pulling myself from the water, I hesitated and took a few steps slowly back into the surf.  It felt warmer than the air around me, and felt welcoming.   Maybe it’s true.  Maybe you do finally begin to acclimatise to this lark….  hmmmmm…

PS.  I made the WeightWatchers’ weigh-in on the way home.  I lost a half a pound this week.   I’ll take it! 🙂


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