The first winter: how the habit survived December
The idea in July was that if I never stopped, the cold would arrive a degree or so at a time and I would never notice the step. It worked, more or less. The lake has gone from 19 °C in July to 6 °C this week, and I have swum in it at least twice a week the whole way down. What has made the difference between an idea and a habit is almost entirely practical.
Fixed days. Wednesday at seven in the morning and Sunday at eight, whatever the weather, unless there is thunder or the lake is frozen at the jetty. Deciding each time whether to go is a decision I would lose about half the time in December. Not deciding, just going, I have missed two sessions since September, both for a cold.
Other people. There is a loose group of six or seven who swim at the lake on Sunday mornings, and knowing that someone will be standing on the jetty wondering where I am has got me out of bed on mornings when nothing else would have. It is also the main safety measure. Nobody swims alone in winter; someone always stays on the bank with the flasks and the watch.
Kit, which has grown through the autumn. The list in the bag now:
- Neoprene gloves and boots from November, which added about two minutes to what I could manage.
- A wool hat for in the water and a second dry one for afterwards.
- A tow float, bright orange, clipped at the waist.
- A thermometer on a string, read and written down every swim.
- A changing robe, a mat to stand on, thick socks, and clothes laid out in the order they go on.
- A flask of sweet tea and something to eat.
And the wind rule, which took me until December to understand. Six degrees of water on a still, grey morning is a pleasant five-minute swim. Six degrees of water with a 25 mph wind across the lake is a miserable three minutes, a soaked robe, and shivering that starts before I have my trousers on. The water temperature is only half the equation; what the air does to wet skin in the minutes after getting out is the other half. On the three windiest mornings this month I swam for less and dressed in the lee of the car with the boot open. Six degrees, five minutes, twice a week, with company. January will take a degree or two off that, and I think I will still be there.