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Friday 1 February 2013

Chill swim poem


A poem written for the Chill swim in Windermere which will take place this saturday (2nd Feb) by Alan White of the Treeton Swimmers group!

CHILL SWIM
At last we have everything under control.
Treeton Swimmers are now on a roll.
The team kit is ready, the meals are arranged;
We'll get to the venue, not look deranged.
We've done all the training, we've swum in the lake
Till fingers and toes are starting to ache.
One morning the dip was badly delayed
While a hole in the ice was hacked with a spade.
When the ice was too thick, and we had to get weathered,
We rolled in the snow, an extravagant method.
And what about the core temperature fall?
Wear more layers of clothes, eat cake, that's all.
And as our antics got sillier and dafter,
Discomfort was easily cured by our laughter.
So after having prepared for so long,
What could possibly now go wrong?
Well, rather a lot, it has to be said.
Our triumph could soon turn pear-shaped instead.
For a start, people cheat, no doubt about that.
Some are buttressed with rolls and padded with fat.
The winter grade corsetry some ladies wear,
Against tiny trunks, that's so hard to bear.
The crowd on the bank will take photos and videos
Myself I just think they'll be perfectly hideous.
When I've knotted my skinny legs into a spiral,
And I don't want my miserable moobs to go viral.
I'll hide in the water, that might be best.
We'll soon hear the signal that means get undressed.
But what if at last my courage wears thin,
The moment arrives and I cannot get in?
The lake's icy grip gets a hold on my toe.
Determination and training just go.
But a cold daily plunge, a total immersion,
From wuss into hero, miraculous conversion!
But if they find out my cold dip every day,
Will they take my Winter Fuel payment away?
I'm in and I'm swimming; there's now no escape.
Fingers burning and numbing, mouth all agape.
It's over; I've lost. The cruel mountain wind
Punishes me as if I had sinned.
The Great Northern Skinny had nothing to teach.
It consisted of poncing around on a beach.
But this is no skinny dip jaunt near to Alnwick.
Our problems could prove to be huge, nay, titanic.
As The Day draws near we get ever more manic
Till Panic! Panic! it's pure blind Panic!
Help!!