“Holy freakin’ s@#t, it’s cold!” I was yelling inside my head while tip toeing from the steps into the ocean pool. Mum and Dad were in earshot and I wanted them to stay proud while pointing my way to their swimming friends – “Yes, that’s our eldest son, Andrew,” they boasted, “he’s visiting.”
I’m unsure whether it’s the same for girls as it is boys when entering cold water. For boys, there comes a point as the cold water travels slowly up the thigh when it’s do or die. It’s either get in or get out because entering slowly just prolongs the anxiety of cold, retreating tackle.
Anyway… I made it all the way in, finished two laps and told dad I’m