The submergathon has become a thing. Feel free to join in!
Peter was out until late with Carnethy runners drink/running (drunning? rinking?). By late I mean until 9.35pm. I was in bed when he got in.
But he'd left a note for me to see this morning. "Don't go swimming without me." So at 8am he got a cup of tea and some instructions.
My plan this morning, and probably every Sunday morning, is to go for a tiddly recovery run at a very low heart-rate. (Today's average was 124 bpm) and then get in for a swim.
Meantime Lucy C had messaged to say she'd be up for a swim.
So round about 11am we were all climbing into our wetsuits and setting off down the beach.
I am still no great shakes but it is getting easier every time I get in, and I'm swimming further every time I get in too. We set off East up the beach and I kept beaching. I thought subconsciously I was just clinging to shore because I'm a baby. But on the way back I discovered what the problem was - because twice I found I was out my depth, which I didn't like. My right arm is obviously a more accomplished swimmer than my left! I was roundly outswum by Peter and Lucy but still quite proud of myself, as we got a discernible distance along the beach for once. I was jittering by the time I got out and had to run about on the beach to warm up.
Presumably by December some kind of adjustment will have taken place, although I'm not sure what form that might take. Do you think it's okay to sneak a hotwater bottle into your wetsuit?
Oh and it was the equinox. And it was a lovely day.
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