And this is where it all starts. Personally I find the call of the sea is so strong, but maybe that's simply because I live in an incredibly beautiful part of the world. Who wouldn't be drawn to the ocean when you see this?
Winter sea swimming is all about staying warm before and getting warm after your swim. I wear a full set of wet weather gear as it's so efficient at keeping the wind out as well as keeping the heat in. Underneath this is a fleece jacket and joggers, cashmere polo neck, heavy duty thermal long sleeved top plus the obligatory woolly hat and gloves and thick socks and fur lined boots. This is one time I'm happy to forego the glamour!
This set of photos was taken in January when Fiona and I happened to hit upon a lovely still day that was worthy of a photo shoot. I've no idea what the sea temperature was, although I may have read somewhere that it was 8 degrees. I maybe need to buy myself a water thermometer. From water's edge to swimming I take as little time as possible. Not for me the strange ritual of wading slowly into the water followed by that chilly flicking and splashing of cold water onto the top half of the body. No, I walk purposefully into the sea up to waist depth and plunge right under as quickly as possible. During the winter months the wind chill factor is often colder than the actual sea temperature, so get in and get going!
The clear icy water has wonderful anti-inflammatory properties as well as being a boost to the immune system. Which brings me on to the main reason I swim...
At the age of 18 I was diagnosed with inflammatory bowel disease, Ulcerative Colitis to be precise. It has been a long term illness, one that has resulted in me being hospitalised on several occasions, being treated medically rather than surgically with not much success over the years. The disease can be hereditary and is also stress related which is ironic as having bowel disease itself is very stressful. If you can imagine living with a bad dose of food poisoning for prolonged periods of your life and the impact thereof, you might get the idea of what it's like to live with bowel disease. I've missed weddings of family and friends, Christenings too and other social occasions where being away from a loo was impossible for me to manage. (Question - why do Churches not have loos?) Travelling is out of the question during a flare-up and eventually your life revolves around a mental map of loos or more often just being at home if the stress is too much. The stigma of bowel disease makes it awkward to explain what looks like odd decisions or behaviour (suddenly leaving a gathering) as it's not an easy subject to weave casually into the conversation. Most people are pretty squeamish about this topic I've discovered.