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Last Day of the Pells
I always swim on first day of the Pells Pool season. It’s
such a fabulous sign of the beginning of summer. I grade the
coldness of the water in terms of how many lengths it takes
for normal breathing to resume. It’s been as bad as
three lengths, but this year it was comparatively balmy, and
only took one. The last day of the season holds less appeal.
It’s too sad. Such an irrevocable symbol of summer being
over. But this year I might go along (Sunday 10th September).
Learn to accept endings as well as beginnings. Thank the staff
who don’t have an easy job managing the place during
unpredictable weather. Rushed off their feet in the July heatwave,
they’ve been twiddling their thumbs for most of August.
It is hard to convey the joy of the Pells Pool to those who
find the idea of swimming in cold water abhorrent and pointless.
I’d be the same in the face of someone trying to convert
me to eating liver. I can only say that, along with the fact
that the water is so clean and chemical free, it is the very
fact of it being cold that helps make it magical. It calms
the soul. However irritable and tense I may feel, troubles
vanish after a length or two. This may be a side effect of
mild hypothermia, but it works every time. Afterwards you
have the bliss of thawing out under the hot open-air shower.
EC
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