My View - Wednesday June 27th 2018 

I've just about defrosted after a stinging 4.38am summer solstice swim at Ilkley Lido. It was last Thursday. 

It wasn't my idea, it was my friend Sally's, whom I can only assume is splash bang in the middle of a midlife crisis.  When she messaged the group WhatsApp with 'Anyone up for it?' I was shocked to the core. This is the girl who, as a rule, balks at the idea of anything early, parky or mildly treacherous. I wasn't the only one left reeling. Other replies were along the lines of 'why would you do that to yourself?' and 'are you drunk?'. So, not wanting to miss this moment in our history, I caved in and agreed to join her, as did another of our pals, Jill.   

I thought the pool would be empty, save for a few druids, but more than 270 people set their alarms for ridiculous o'clock and plunged in. It seemed to be mainly women in the water, but I'd left my prescription goggles at home so could have been mistaken. I was judging it mainly by the shrill cacophony of people catching their breath.  

Sal and I had come fully prepared with wetsuits, short hair and not even a slick of waterproof mascara. Jill, on the other hand, sashayed in five minutes after us with a full fake bake tan, plunging cozzie and a salon-style up-do. She looked too hot to care about the cold. 

I went for full immersion, thinking that my head might feel warmer if I dunked it under for a brain freeze first. I had notions of feeling the benefit of the comparatively warm air upon resurfacing. That plan didn't work. I just lost my breath and ended up with a wet bogey on my cheek.  

We managed to stay in for about 15 minutes, just enough time to lose all feeling in our extremities. I've got that harmless but unfortunate looking Raynaud's disease, so every one of my fingers and toes lost its rosy glow and took on the appearance of piano ivories. It didn't matter that the hot showers were out of order due to maintenance issues, because only a near-scalding bath and a brew can sort those digits out. 

We didn't really see the sunrise. It was practically daylight when I collected Sal anyway, but we'd all been expecting a big hippy moment where everyone falls silent to witness dawn breaking over Ilkley's famous Cow & Calf rocks. We must have been nattering or looking in the wrong direction though because somehow it passed us by. 

The changing rooms were full of jollity afterwards, with people floating the 'same-time-next-year?' idea. In the heat of the moment, I committed to an annual thing, promising to rally the rest of the group chat into a chilly challenge in 2019. Oddly enough, they all seem to have plans. Still, there's always the New Year White Wells dip before that. Any takers? Anyone..?