Christmas Crab and Boxer Day

 Ever since September I have been going on about how we are going to go swimming on Christmas day. I don't know why I thought this was a good idea but I try not to over-analyse my enthusiasms because they often end up making me do something interesting and memorable, even if I'm not sure what the point is. Xmas morning it was 0 degrees however, and it looked overcast and grey and the idea seemed about as appealing as...I don't know what...I looked carefully at the idea that it might be better just to stay in bed.

It's difficult to define the exact feeling - the lack of enthusiasm - at the thought of going in cold water. I suppose the fact that to 'pour cold water on' is an idiom for flattening enthusiasm speaks for itself. So why do it? Well what the hell else were we going to do? The clock was ticking. We were going for dinner at Peter's brother's family's house at 3pm, so we better get whatever we were going to do done by then. Up. Hup-2-hup-2....

It was a nice surprise, and at first I didn't trust it, when the sun came out. As we drove East towards Gullane things kind of opened up. We went for a four miler around and about the beach first. I executed a perfect crab. In my head. Peter generously said it was better than he could do and snorted. In my head, the only place that really matters, the judges awarded a perfect 10. Never since Nadia Comaneci had someone described such a perfect arc using only the human form. It looks a bit different in the photo though.

The swim! Well, you know, it really wasn't that bad. There wasn't even any ice on the ground this time. Peter had got us new hoods and gloves and these worked well...I swam in the region of 100 yards.

Then it was home and into the hot shower and then away down to Neil and Sue's for a dinner more fancy, varied and elaborate than we had seen - probably since last Xmas at their house. As the drinking commenced, Neil confessed to a thought that he should come with us some time and jump in the water at Gullane, and that maybe Ryan, Peter's nephew, would come too. By the end of the evening they had enthusiastically agreed that they were coming on a 'Death Swim' and Laura, Peter's niece, had warned Peter that if anything happened to Neil, he would have to do the speech at her wedding.....

Today Peter was up at the crack of dawn to go a run with Graham Henry and others. I left the house at a more sedate 11.30 to go a run along the Prom and back. I bumped into an old friend who I know from w-a-y back and talked about everything under the sun for the best part of an hour. I had to get going again because I was cooling too much, but it was great. By the time I hit the prom, which must have been about lunch-time, it was absolutely hoaching - as busy as a summer's day - and I had to weave in and out between the family's, push-chairs, dogs, kids on bikes....

Where does the time go? It's dark again, and maybe I'm going to go and cook the tea.