Boxing Day Swim
WRITTEN BY BETH MCKAY
The hard work of Christmas was done – now for the fun!
Louisa swung her feet out of bed and into her slippers. The house was surprisingly quiet, considering how many people were now sleeping under her roof. She shrugged on her dressing gown and crept down the stairs, avoiding the creaky step at the bottom.
The thought of half an hour to herself after the hectic chaos of Christmas day was bliss. There was nothing Louisa enjoyed more than having a houseful for the big dinner, but the preparation was exhausting, even with all hands on deck for the clearing up. The relief meant Louisa had slept deeply and felt more rested than she had done in ages. Their tabby cat was delighted to be fed early. He snuggled up next to Louisa on the kitchen sofa while she cradled her warm mug of tea in her hands.
It was precisely ten minutes before the peace was shattered by the arrival of her student children and their friends. They were soon rooting noisily around in her cupboards, on the hunt for breakfast.
“You’re up early,” Louisa queried.
“Matthew wants to do the Boxing Day swim,” Jess declared proudly. “We’re going to support him. I might go in too.”
Louisa was impressed. Her family had been regular attendees when the children were younger, but none of them had braved the chilly December swim.
“The waves can be rather big this time of year,” she warned Jess’s boyfriend, “Although it’s not quite so bitter as it was yesterday.”
Louisa prided herself on regular wild swimming with friends, usually in the summer months. She was not ashamed to admit to being a fair-weather bather.
As part of the Jurassic coast, their seaside town had a pebbled beach, which was sheltered by towering red cliffs. It was a lovely spot for a dip, with plenty of waterside cafés and hotels to warm up in afterwards.
The Boxing Day Swim was a popular event, despite its early start. The whole town poured down to the seafront to watch and admire the crazy costumes of the many swimmers who dressed up.
Louisa had always liked the party atmosphere and the chance for a brief catch up with friends at such a busy time of year. You could see on some of their faces how relieved they were to escape their relatives for a while. Tempers seemed to fray less out of doors.
Louisa had always found that the blast of fresh air did her family good, especially after several days of indulgence. In recent years, teenage lie-ins had tended to take precedence, so it was a while since they had been down to the seafront all together. Suddenly, Louisa found herself relishing the prospect.
“There are plenty of warm towels in the airing cupboard,” she announced cheerfully, “and some wetsuits in the shed which might still fit. Help yourselves!”
An hour later, Louisa’s family assembled on the doorstep. Matthew was sporting an old pink fairy costume from the dressing up box on top of his shorts, while Jess had attempted to dress up as one of the three kings. A gold crown from yesterday’s crackers was stapled to the rim of a woolly hat and she had draped a red tablecloth around her wetsuit as a cloak. It was not a bad effort, Louisa decided, although they already looked cold. She was glad of her own cosy jacket and gloves.
The swift march along the river to the seafront ensured that everyone was soon warmer. Louisa was practically running to keep up with the long, loping strides of her children and husband. Her cheeks were rosy by the time they reached the Sailing Club.
Jess and Matthew only just made the deadline for entries and joined the straggly queue of eye-catching costumes on the slipway. Some were impressively elaborate: a convincing Santa was attached to a sleigh, crafted cleverly out of card onto a paddleboard, and there was a plethora of elves with bright hats and Christmas jumpers, some of whom Louisa recognised. She gave a friendly wave and lent back against the railings to watch the spectacle.
On the signal, the horde of swimmers raced down the beach. Most practically threw themselves into the winter waves. There was much laughter as costumes began to disintegrate and hats floated off. Jess and Matthew were soon putting in a few decent strokes and treading water with the best of them.
“What do you think? Shall I take some photos?” Simon, Louisa’s husband, was fumbling in his pockets for his mobile. He could never find his phone.
“Don’t worry! They’ll be some good shots in the Herald,” Louisa assured him. She took a deep breath of sea air and felt her shoulders relax as Simon put a warm arm around them. All the work of Christmas was finally over. Now they could just settle back and enjoy the fun.
Allison Hay
I joined the "My Weekly" team thirteen years ago and, more recently, "The People's Friend". I love the variety of topics we cover both online and in the magazines. I manage the digital content for the brands, sharing features and information on the website, social media and in our digital newsletters.
