December Snow

Last Friday night was another unseasonably heavy snowfall across the country, and on Saturday morning like everyone else I woke up to a bright white landscape. I know this isn't good news for everyone, but I still find a covering of snow to be a little bit magical. I suppose it takes me back to my childhood and memories of school being closed, the normal rules of life are suspended.

Buoyed by this feeling I decided on a whim I'd take my camera and go for a walk up to the park and round the river. These are places that I've been running through the past year, watching with interest how they've changed with the seasons, but heavy snow is something else again in the way it transforms our everyday surroundings. The familiar is rendered strangely unrecognisable: we can become disoriented as regular landmarks are hidden, while at the same time things that usually go unnoticed are suddenly revealed - or some cases not only revealed but transmogrified.

For example, just what is this?

It's a great opportunity to see the world anew, or at least just a little askew - even the familar Warrington landmarks can look refreshed with a silvery dusting:

As with all magic, the snow also has its dangers: travel can become hazardous and the everyday business of life can be disrupted. It's a reminder of how fragile the structures and routines of our lives really are, and of how little control we really have over them (and I'd rather be reminded of that by something gentle and relatively benign, like snow, rather than say by an earthquake). I think it's telling when people try (quite literally) to plough on when the sensible thing to do is just stop for a while. But if you are able to take time out then the world can suddenly seem like a friendlier and more relaxed place.

So even though I don't know if the snow will cause problems travelling back tomorrow to spend Christmas with my family, I'm feeling quite relaxed - I hardly dare say chilled in fact - about it. And even if all other modes of transport are disrupted, I know now that I might still have options...

Merry Christmas!

OSS December Dip: Plum Pudding Plunge

About a week ago I travelled down to Parliament Hill Lido in London to take part in the Outdoor Swimming Society's 2010 December Dip (aka "the plum pudding plunge"), an annual fund-raising event for the OSS. It's pretty simple: a bunch of people line up at the edge of the pool, jump in and swim, with the aim of completing two widths of the lido before getting out again as fast as possible. Brrr!

The Dip was preceded by pep talks from Kate Rew (the OSS founder) and two great guest speakers - Jessica Hynes (actress, writer and comedian best known to me for her work on the insanely brilliant Spaced - my favourite ever TV sitcom) and Colin Hill (distance swimmer and founder of the Great Swim series of events). Jessica spoke about her enthusiasm for the Outdoor Swimming Society's mission to promote having fun of all kinds in water outdoors (the society is very egalitarian: all you have to do to call yourself a member is to like being in water outdoors, although by signing up for free on their website you also receive a regular email newsletter); Colin talked about the psychology of longer outdoor swims, and suggested ways that indoor pool swimming over the winter could help prepare (a point that outdoor swimmers don't always seem to concede).

After the talks came the actual plunge. I'd swum outdoors in London almost exactly a year earlier, but that was in the heated pool at the Oasis - this time the water was an icy 0.1C (32.2F), and with patches of snow around the poolside to add atmosphere. All through the previous week I'd become increasingly aware of the cold, until even washing my hands in cold water had made me think nervously about the event; but as the air temperature felt relatively mild on the day I didn't really feel worried until the last few minutes before when everyone lined up by the water (and I tried not to think of the risks I'd read about cold water immersion - hopefully this wouldn't be the last thing I ever did...).

Everyone had their own method of entering the water, but after my experiences swimming the Scillies my preferred technique is simply to jump straight in (one useful bit of advice is to breathe out as you enter the water so that you naturally take an in-breath when you surface) and then swim like mad. The cold water made it difficult to breath normally and impaired my swimming ability (while also making my hands and feet feel literally as if they were encased in blocks of ice) so I was glad to complete my two widths and jump back out again.

Afterwards it took a while to get warmed up again but to help there was hot chocolate, mince pies, ginger wine and a very congenial atmosphere. I talked to a few people about where they'd come from and the kind of swimming they did, which was good as I don't really talk to many other swimmers - I think that outdoor swimming does tend to be a bit more social than pool swimming. I'm not sure that I had an immediate endorphin rush but I did feel extremely mellow and relaxed for the rest of the day, and that's good enough for me.

There are reports of the event online from Sky News (which has video footage, although you can't see me in it) and the BBC. In hindsight I can't say that I had a particularly definite reason for doing the dip, except that it seemed like a good way to round off 2010 as a year of outdoor swimming. I'm continuing to swim indoors (I rarely stop these days), but now I'm also looking forward to more outdoor dips in 2011.

Happy festive swimming!