Cold-water swimming

The woman on the path has come to a dead stop. She’d been shuffling along in that bunched-up posture we all developed when we bought smartphones, a two-fingered salute to the millennia of evolution that managed to pull humans into an upright position. Now she’s staring, open-mouthed, at her surroundings. I rather enjoy the shocked faces of passersby who catch sight of us swimmers at the Serpentine Pond in Hyde Park in our flimsy suits as we lower ourselves into the cold water each morning. I look still more shocking when I get out. My skin turns from its normal skimmed-milk color to bright neon, as though it has been slapped. And it has in a way: when you first enter water thats barely above freezing, you do get a shock.