I walked down to the usual change spot, with my wetsuit hanging round my waist.
I wondered why the usual swimmers weren’t there: wind whipped across the water and the sky was still dull from the night.
Rebecca and I met early, the first cars in the carpark and walked down.
She, in T-shirt and bikini bottoms, me in wetsuit. Both in beanie, booties and gloves.
We watched the water and the wind - a fast current blowing towards the shore.
Did we actually want to swim? We’d set alarms, driven in the dark. And here we were.
As we edged forward in to the Lake, and waited for our bodies to adjust to the shock of cold water, our minds stilled to the idea.
Cold water swimming: awaiting. Always a good idea afterwards, not a great idea as water seeps through neoprene booties, that first adjustment to the new temperature.
For me, it seems such a great metaphor for life. There are so many things we don’t want to do but we know are good things.
The adventures we dream of, the stories we desire to create. Yet they require sacrifice, and they cost us. They might be painful.
But as we swim out into the waters, we realise why we came. We see what other people didn’t get to see. Even paddling out and the first few moments might feel even horrendous and we wish we hadn’t gone for it!
But it’s always worth it. The views, the friendship, the feeling of the water, the warming up afterwards?
What would you do if you took one step towards adventure, knowing it might cost you something and might take some sacrifice?