Lune swim

Do you ever have that situation where you feel like there’s something you ought or want to do, even though you might not enjoy it? For me, running the Loch Ness marathon is a good example. I actually remember the sinking feeling when I realised I was going to sign up for it. But I’m so glad I did it.

Earlier this year, I decided I’d like to start swimming in the Lune occasionally. Once again I had the slightly disconcerting feeling where one part of me was thinking “that’d be a great thing to do” while another part sighed and muttered “for God’s sake”.

For two or three months now I’ve been asking Dan and Abi about where they get into the river and I even went down to examine a couple of places recently. I might even have written about that here, actually.

Anyway, today’s hot weather - record breaking elsewhere but still north of thirty degrees in Kirkby Lonsdale - was enough to tip me into finally doing it. I put on some trunks under my clothes, grabbed a towel and walked down to the river, crossing Stanley Bridge and walking maybe fifty metres south along the bank.

Having stripped down to my trunks, it took me a minute or two to mentally prepare myself, and then I made my way down across the rocks until I was waist deep and at a point where I could dive into a deeper part of the river. It was cold, for sure, but after thirty seconds or so, I wasn’t feeling it anymore, and I swam up towards the bridge.

To be honest, I hadn’t anticipated being in the water for more than a minute or two; long enough to be able to say I’d had a swim and then get out. But actually, it was remarkably… what’s the word? Relaxing? That’s not it. Nor calming or soothing. But very tranquil, and in the end I pootled up and down for about ten or fifteen minutes.

And as a bonus, when I got out and fished my towel out of my rucksack, I found my lost sunglasses!