The Sea Can Wait...

Recovery gives you far too much time to think.

As I recover from spinal surgery, I've developed a serious case of cold-water swimming FOMO. Every time I see my buddies heading off for a quick dip, I'm ridiculously jealous... but also genuinely happy they're out there doing what we all love. Because I know how it feels…….

I've found myself thinking back to my favourite time of year to swim. September into October. The sea is just starting to cool again, the summer madness has disappeared, the sun sits lower in the sky, those distance swims start creeping back in as everyone tries to hang on to the fitness they've built over the summer. It's just perfect.

There were a few swims and challenges I'd signed up for this year that clearly aren't happening now. Ah well... they'll still be there next year. Hever 5km, I’ll be coming for you!

The thing I miss most isn't even the swimming itself. It's that very first moment of getting fully under, shoulders very much in! That instant hit of cold that brings the adrenaline, the tingles, the changes in breathing. The feeling of being completely weightless. For me, that's also the closest thing to being pain free. It’s just glorious.

Once we get out, that’s where my real skills lie. Like a real-life Formula 1 pit crew, I can change in a matter of minutes. Leaving my friends still faffing around, trying to get out of their wet stuff completely in awe of my talents!! I sit there, quietly smug, sipping my hot drink and taking in the very essence of what it’s all about. All senses alight and aligned.

There is a phrase that we all say down on our little bit of beach, where our swim community gather. We are pulled here, together, like the moon pulls the tide in. ‘You never regret a swim’. Never a truer word said.

The sea has an incredible way of putting everything back into perspective.

More than that though, it's the people. The encouragement. The laughs. The shared madness. The chats that somehow solve the world's problems before you've even dried your hair.

It's therapy. Our therapy.

So, for now, I'll keep watching the tide come in and out, cheering everyone else on and reminding myself that recovery is just another challenge to get through.

Oh, my lovely sea... wait for me.

I'll be back.