GB Danny O: That ain't cold water

In case you don't remember, Dan is my brother. He is also a swimmer. But he is still scared to race me in a 50 yard free.


We’ve all had it, that moment perched at the edge of the pool before the first plunge, filled with the dread of the cold below. Even the warmest of indoor pools can give us pause at the anticipation of the shock of the water as we summon up the courage to go for it. Every time I find myself in this moment, I steel myself with the memory of the coldest I’ve ever been. It was high school, and I’d taken a trip with my friend Doug for a little parent-free partying at his dad’s cabin on Indian Lake. The temperature hovered in the low 30s. Being the hardy types we were, we decided to spend most of the night at the edge of the lake hovered around a barrel fire while we knocked back can after can of Old Milwaukee telling stories about our miraculous 17 year-old exploits and making big promises about our the rest of our lives. Of course Doug’s dad didn’t know we were there, nor were we allowed to have a fire, which made it all the more exciting.

As we were about to pile in the car the next morning to head home, Doug remembered the forbidden barrel. His solution? Wrangle the barrel with its still-smoldering embers into the metal rowboat, row it out into the lake, and dump it. My instincts were that this was not a good idea, but it was Doug’s place and Doug’s boat and Doug’s barrel, so out into the slate grey water we went, breaking the thin skin of ice that clung to the shore as we pushed off. Somehow we managed not to capsize our little craft, and as the barrel hit the water I remember the hiss and the rising steam before it sank into the silence below.

The next day I got a call from Doug. “A neighbor saw us. We’ve got to go back up there and get the barrel out.” Doug’s dad drove us up and stood there glowering as we tried to muster up the courage to execute our mission. Never before and never since have I dreaded the first plunge as much as I did that day. Jumping into 35 degree water is, to say the least, clarifying. First there’s the shortness of breath, then there’s the sensation of every inch of your skin being pricked by blue-fire needles. To stave off hypothermia, we took shifts hunting for the barrel, one of us clambering for shore as the numbness set in while the other searched madly 20 yards from shore. We found it, eventually, and it took both of us to haul it back and heave it up onto dry land. I remember Doug’s dad smiling as we huddled around the kerosene heaters inside the cabin waiting for the sensation to return to our limbs, and despite all the stupidity and irresponsibility involved, I think we both felt like we’d just done something brave.

So that’s what I remember, and even if the pool is a bit on the chilly side, I know it won’t be as cold as Indian Lake in November. So in I go.

Today's workout:
200 WU
4 x (4x25) going odds free, evens stroke various
8 x 50 middle of the pool working on turns (E and her deep sea diving)
12 x 25 3 fly 1 free on :30, :35, :40
9 x 225 going:
1-3 descend on 3:20
4-6 steady on 3:30
7-9 descend on 3:10
KBB did I forget something?

editor's note: if anyone was up at 6am and saw the sunrise over Boston today, it was absolutely amazing.