Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Are those icebergs out there?

I don't live too far from the coast, which is almost always a good thing. One time I question the benefits of our location is when we get nice weather, like we had today. The day was pleasant, probably got up to about 70. No stifling humidity and a fresh breeze. What could possibly be bad about that, right?

Well, my family likes swimming in the Irish Sea. And the Irish Sea is COLD. I've heard Americans refer to the waters off Maine as cold and maybe they're comparable. I don't know. I used to swim in the Atlantic on a regular basis, but off Long Island and the Jersey Shore and it was never anywhere near as cold as what I experienced today and every other time I've gone into the Irish Sea. I once scraped my leg in the water and I swear it was on a chunk of ice.

And I go through the same emotions every time. I park the car and as I walk along I say to myself, it looks so beautiful. It looks refreshing.

A quick check tells us that the EU's blue flag is flying, which means the place is clean. I think. Not sure what it means, really.

Everything's looking good, but looks can be deceiving. No, not that. It's clean all right and the next view is tremendous as well. But oh so telling.

The water is lapping at the shore and the beach is not too crowded, all of which is great. There aren't many people in the water, though, are there? Why? I'll tell you why - because all people - even Irish people - have come to realize that the Irish Sea is FREEZING.


My family doesn't seem to care about that.

We make it down to the beach and while I'm already chattering in anticipation of the cold, they're happily discussing the prospects of their pending death-defying plunge into icy waters.

We all head to the water's edge. More dread. They're in and I'm not. Not really. Up to my knees maybe.


I'm always the last one to get down. It's part of the ritual. You must get your head wet. I generally spend about 15 minutes psyching myself up (& making an Act of Contrition) before I finally force my head and shoulders down into the water. In that instant my breath is sucked from my body and I feel like I'm going into shock.

Less than a minute later - it takes me that long to regain consciousness - and I'm heading for dry land, where the fresh breeze now feels like a winter's gale. But I'm alive and I think to myself that by August I'll almost think this is normal.
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Comments:

nygalwaygirl wrote:
Oh my goodness! This sounds dreadful! You should tell your family that you need to mind your ticker and should be excused on medical grounds... Irish people are like seals, with a secret insulating layer that the rest of us are missing... Invest in a wet suit or give up the whole deal, I say!
6/26/2009 8:15 PM EDT

TheYank wrote:
A wet suit? A great idea, but not one I'd be allowed. And if I start complaining about my "ticker" I'll almost certainly be forced to abandon all those foods that make life worth living. Besides they know I've recently been checked out and given an all-clear. No, I don't think my ticker is going to cut it.

What's worse is that there are people here who swim all year round. And we have friends who go swimming pretty much daily from St. Patrick's Day to Nov. 1. They're nuts, I know, but to my family their behavior is a bit extreme and only serves to emphasize how sensible our attitude is.

I've been looking for a good excuse for ten years and haven't found one yet. I guess I can live in hope that someday my ticker will be plausible.
6/27/2009 3:46 AM EDT

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