Ive been suffering from a creeping malaise for the last couple of weeks a real lack of energy and no drive the old get up and go has got up and went. Ive just been a lethargic old curmudgeon (even worse than I usually am according to the current Mrs Headlander). To help rectify this I had a bout of madness during the week and decided that I needed to have a swim not in the warmth and safety of Mill House Leisure Centre but in the freezing cold North Sea.
So I spent an hour searching the loft and found my old stripey Victorian bathing costume and took a bus to Seaton Carew. The air temperature was a balmy 10 degrees centigrade, pretty good for December, so I hoped for a quick, refreshing dip.
Seaton Carew was looking as only Seaton Carew can. A nice big, sweeping beach framed by some good hotels and shops and the lovely picturesque view of Seal Sands (nicknamed Mordor by the Brother-in-Law, Boss Hogg) and its fantastic smoke and flame light show (do people really come here on holiday).
Mrs H. came with me, not to swim but to hold the towel, have a good laugh and call the emergency services should they be needed. As I stood there on the beach in me scuddies the final insult came what looked like a Greenpeace boat came motoring by, apparently heading for Teesport, and Mrs H quipped that Someone must have mistaken you for a whale and called them up theyve come to drag you back out to sea!
Ha ha bloody ha woman.
Despite the cruel jibes and hoots of derision in I jolly well went. Initially it was a bit cold on the ankles and after 30 seconds of paddling I went in to the knees still cold but I was getting used to it! You guessed it the water then splashed that little place where God decided that all men should keep their spare elbow skin and I yelped at the top of my voice and made a sharp exit.
On the next try I actually made it all the way in and swam about for 5 minutes or so. It was great once I got into my stroke but the temperature meant that I couldnt stay in for very long. I came out a healthy shade of red, towelled myself down vigorously and feeling really pleased with myself we retired to the Marine Hotel for a spot of lunch and a coffee, with me all the time berating Mrs H for being too chicken to come for a swim.
Back in the warmth and safety of Chez Headlander later in the afternoon I was feeling pretty good, energy had returned and I was ready to face the world (and more importantly the pub) again. After some tea we went to the Pint and Fight and I bored them all to tears with my tale of bravery and derring do taking on the North Sea like a modern day King Canute and winning an easy victory. Surprisingly no-one was impressed and the drinks that I expected to be bought as a conquering hero were not forthcoming.
Next morning I felt pretty ill and I didnt have a hangover. In fact Im still feeling ill, all weak, shivery and snuffly Ive caught a bloody chill from that daft swim. The missus says that its because I forgot to cover myself in goose grease. Whose stupid idea was it anyway
Dont answer that just get me another hot toddy please .