Flirting With Hypothermia

 Next swims:

Monday-Friday:  7 am and 5 pm
Saturday/Sunday:d Noon

Last Swim:  Friday morning

Water Temp:  53

Air Temp:  lower 40's?

Waves:  calm and placid

Clarity: SO CLEAR

Kru:  

Ala Mode, Lt. MJ, Lydia the Tattooed Lady, Dragonfly

Shore Support:  Showgirl (contact lens malfunction), Blake and an enormous blond puppyish retriever

Coffee Support:  Mathilda, Crazy-Love Bulldog

I was headed toward the car this morning but found my steps heading back to the house.  Hot snaps.  And a good thing.  They were totally my salvation.

We gathered in the pre-dawn under a perfectly clear sky and almost perfectly calm water, just inviting little finger-sized ripples lapping the shore.

Ala, MJ and TTL suited up.  I chose skin, with socks.  Being last to get ready, I splashed in & dove before I could think.  WOOOOOOOEEEEEEE!!!!! As Geena Davis says so memorably in Thelma & Louise, "I'm AWAKE."

My next thought was, "I will not be able to get out.  Ever."  As I made my way north toward Sewer Pipe, I thought I might not be able to stay in, either.  My toes, in spite of socks, felt numb and my old friend Hypothermia  wrapped his arms around my mid-section, disconcertingly familiar.  But I was only on the edge of his territory, and needed only a light amount of self-talk for the return trip. I even had time to appreciate the sun peeping over the horizon as I headed back.

MJ and TTL went to the Birches, where they found a new sand bar.

Back on land, Ala & I began the losing race against time to get into our clothes while our fingers still worked.  It always seems that the skin thinks it is still under water and is oblivious to the fact that it is now covered with high-tech warming fibers.  I struggled to bend the little shred of metal that activates the Hot Snaps. I thought later one could use one's teeth in extremis. 

I have felt colder and shivered harder, but the pain in my feet this morning was notable.  I deployed the now-hot Hot Snaps over my toes, then put them in my pockets and gripped them obsessively.  We struggled up the hill toward coffee on the icy blocks that were our feet.  Hypothermia  and his  buddy Afterdrop crept up beside me, slyly squeezing my lungs and stomach til I almost started to maybe think about what it might be like to throw up.

But as I say, this was only a flirtation.

We celebrated being alive over coffee and bagels.  Suddenly Mathilda the massive, love-mad bulldog was in our midst, wriggling, giggling and shedding.  Just as abruptly, she got her fill of affection and lurched away with her owner in tow.  Life was good.

MJ & TTL

The author with MJ in background.