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Blog entries about: Cold |
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I’ll have an Indian
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Those of you with a nervous disposition may want to avoid this one. In the year or so of swimming and general exercising, I have also discovered my love of Indian food. I used to never like it; I had a real Irish palette. Give me the blandest thing on the menu. Yet now, even though my cholesterol is a whopping 5.75, I can’t get enough of it. I haven’t graduated to Vindaloo or Phal or any of that nonsense. Food should be tasty, it shouldn’t hurt.
3 times I have fallen foul of an Indian with exercise the next day. The first time was in Spain at the beginning of the summer. I stepped out with Mrs.M for an Indian (which was gorgeous), and drank 10 gin and tonics. Just the preparation for a midday 10km road race the next day. After 4kms in the 35 degree heat, the stomach cramps were getting the better of me, after 6km I couldn’t take it any longer and I had to duck into a local English bar to avail of their facilities. “You’re bit off course mate,” one of the midday alcoholics remarked. “Not really,” I replied. Still finished, even if it was a lousy 53 mins.
The second time was a month or so ago in Wexford, out for a run in the country. About three klicks in, I felt the familiar cramping. No facilities at hand, so off into a local field for the old ditch and dock leaf treatment. No harm, some foul. I noticed it was gun club reserved land, and felt some satisfaction that one of them might step in it. I finished out my run, in a fairly reasonable time.
The third time was on Saturday. I treated myself to a mild chicken Balti on Friday night with a couple of beers and a couple of glasses of red. I believe it is what all the athletes take before a big training exercise. I met my team (including Ciara, our newly appointed support person), and Tim our Rib driver. For those of you not out on a Rib before, they have no ‘facilities’. Off we went out to the Kish lighthouse (about 8 miles out), into metre high swells. This was interesting in a couple of ways. None of us had swum in a swell like it before, and I was dying to get rid of the Indian. Still, I was first in. It was a nice steady swim, the first five minutes or so are a little unnerving, but then you get into a rhythm and you don’t really notice the swell until you come off the top of a high wave and get a particularly nasty slap in the face from the sea. Not too cold at all.
I got out, Stephen got in. I even held on to my guts for the next swimmer too, Catherine. Then it all went south. Tim, a realist, knew the score. He’d been in plenty of sea races and shat off more than one boat in his time. “If it gets really bad, stick your ass out beside the engine,” he said. “Try to get it all outside the boat, it’s easier to wash down,” he continued.
Colm was the next swimmer in, at this stage I had been through at least two of those moments when you are clenching and it can go one of two ways; either out or that weird release you get when it feels like gas is travelling back up your system. That can’t be good for you. Anyway, Colm was swimming right behind the boat. I was standing there willing him to move. Finally, he strayed to one side of the boat and it was ass-out, all systems go. Quick, easy, no mess for Tim. I repeated the manoeuvre when MAH was in the water, I hope it didn’t put her off her stroke. I had more spectators the second time, I don’t think they were overly impressed. Still, needs must, they’d have been less impressed if I hadn’t.
Got back in for a second swim, felt good, tidy. Seas had calmed way down. Didn’t get cold at all, could have happily gone for a third swim. Roll on the 25th, at least the boat will have a toilet. No sea sickness to report.
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Saturday...IASC Style
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07:30
Wake early...clearly excited about something (perhaps its the sea swim at 1330hrs?).
After the photo shoot at the 40ft yesterday to whichonly the important types and the lookers were invited to attend (some question marks as to why I was left out?) there was much talk about the perceived water temperature (5 degrees they posited). This news dropped a few people off the Saturday swim list I can tell you.
07:50
I know lets watch 'Sneakers'...its a real classic...sent her indoors right back to sleep.
10:55
Text arrives seeking affirmation...feign enthusiasm and machismo (quite a leap having watched 'Charlies Angels' on RTE2) "Big Time" I reply, exuding confidence I'm sure.
13:15
Just completed weekend tasks of vacuuming (new Dyson - gets the thumbs up from me - superior suction - her indoors has yet to use it - I'll let you know the female review)
13:17
Applying togs to body - note arrival of hirsute male in Ireland jersey via the front window (the joys of apartment living)...there's no getting out of this now.
13:25
Leave for Seapoint. In depth discussion regarding "ins and outs" of really spicy foods takes place...safe to say, while the Etna pizza in Milano is very nice, I wont be ordering it again anytime soon unless there is some kind of wager involved.
13:34
The 3 fools are delaying proceedings by discussing weather and taking photographs. Aoife makes outrageous claim "it looks warm". This is not taken too seriously. There are no humans in the water. There is a man who is talking up the fact that he has just "enjoyed" a swim - in hindsight this is clearly a lie - I suspect he hangs around down there with a towel to encourage people in to the water and mock them while they flail around as their limbs fail to work in such a cold environment. "concentrate on what part of your body is the coldest" is a helpful last thought…"I want to disprove an accepted study [in some scientific journal]" - the freak
13.37
Its time. There are expletives. A brave initial rush is followed by a quick exit. Then in…tests were undertaken while in the water, Aoife tells us that if you cant touch your thumb to your pinky you are hypothermic…looking for an excuse to get out I keep trying this test (sadly I keep failing). The water is unbelievably cold, unacceptably cold. I could not countenance swimming for 10 minutes in this let alone an hour. The head does not go in the water - this is key, it is all about breast stroke - breathing is very shallow.
13:42
OUT OUT OUT. The external temperature is 8 or 9 degrees and it is a delight to get out of the water and be greeted by it.
Bodies are red/purple and very goose bumped.
13:50
Dressed and drinking a little hot chocolate…talking about the cold, admiring the impressive thermal underwear.
14:00
Having walked home, feeling like a days work is really done now its time to relax, have a few cups of tea (cranberry and sanguinello for me) and watch Ireland take England to pieces. Verbal dressing down/ chastising for ownership of certain DVDs 'Batman and Robin' (Batsuit with nipples) is balanced off with 'The Princess Bride'. "Everyone has a few stinkers" he unhelpfully tries to relieve the tension/ bruised DVD pride. I think he spotted 'Guess Who' in the corner and fancied himself against the the master. But ultimately he departs to get home in time for the England game…the strange man with thermal gear and an Ireland jersey (could he really be a parent?).
15:00
Finally recovered (I think) after a hot shower.
Thought Italy would do better against the Scots
17:26
After quite a lot of complaining from my stomach and lower intestine this last hour things have finally come to a head with a run to the toilet. The cold shock to the stomach is going to see me miss the start of the match…just as well it was dull I suppose (I did find out that the earth has more than one moon thanks to 'the book of general ignorance' - its called Cruithne - the second one - the first one is called 'the moon')
17:35
On the upside I missed all the anthems….on the downside I missed the start of the game…you win some...
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Gosh, That's Cold.
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...A man woke one morning. It was a morning like any other. He was in his own bed, which was not unusual. He wondered if he would write a blog today. He wondered if he would write a blog about the effects of extreme cold on his body. Just then the door handle began to move...
...A cat stood looking at the door. It presented a barrier, one that she was determined to cross. What would she do on the other side of the door? She was fixated on finding out. Slowly and rhytmically, she started to scratch at the door...
There is a question posed by one Marion Hurden in “Do Polar Bears Get Lonely?” a collection of the ‘Last Word’ columns from New Scientist magazine.
"When I wade into the sea or immerse myself in an outdoor swimming pool, why does the water always seem coldest when it reaches my midriff?"
(Which reminds me of the old joke: Why does a woman rub her eyes in the morning?)
Two people write in. Both suggest that the lack of organs in our legs and work that our intestines do makes our stomach warmer, thus when the cold water hits our stomachs, it feels colder. Then in an editorial footnote, the editor states many men have written in saying the shock is worst when the cold water hits their testicles. The editor surmises that nerve endings may have a role to play in feeling the cold.
I went swimming today with Aoife and Ciaran, with this in mind. The water temperature was estimated at a balmy 5 degrees centigrade. In the interests of empirical research, I asked them to consider where the shock of the water was coldest. I didn’t share the stomach information, I don’t agree with Marion Hurden anyway. From my summer/autumn experience of swimming in the sea, the shock travels like this: “Oh my toes, OUCH! MY BALLS, ooh my stomach, GODDAMMIT MY PITS! HOLY GODDAM HELL HECK HELL HELL MY HEAD!, ahhh every thing is okay now, I’ll swim for a while” When I get out my head and ears tend to ache for a while afterwards. Yep, head is definitely the worst.
We met at 1.30, there were strangers in the sea which I foolishly took as a good sign. We changed, I went in first. The winter sea shock travelled through me something like this: “OH MY GOD I’M PARALYSED! GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!” There is a lack of logical dissection of how the shock travelled across my body. To wit: I screamed like a girl and got out. Aoife, an actual girl, got in and swam with no complaint. So did Ciaran. Suitably humiliated, I got in and joined the swim. Here’s how the pain worked out. Out of breath, legs numb, biceps contracted, three Adam’s Apples. We managed 5 minutes. Once out, the normal process is you feel colder due to the wind, but because the water was so cold the blood started to flow back into my limbs and I felt warmer. Later on over two cups of tea I compared notes with the other two. Feet are the common denominator, they take longest to warm up. The fellahs had an additional complaint.
I am going to try and get in again in about 3 weeks or so. I’ll let you know.
...She kept it up for 30 minutes, the little cow. I got up and let her in to my room. Then she decided she wanted to go back out. Don't buy a cat is my advice. I got up and threw her outside. Maybe she'll think twice about it at 3am tomorrow...
...It was his son looking for some breakfast. He got up and decided, "I think I'll feed the kids. Then I think I’ll swim today and write a blog. Then I'll watch the rugby. That man, of course, was me...
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