Headed down to Spitchwick with Yaara for a Friday evening swim: the perfect thing after an increasingly sweaty week at work. We blissed out in Lower Corner Pool, the evening sun dappling on the surface, as we swam up and down, and then floated in the silky water. As we swam we chatted about swimming; about how the more you do it, the more pleasure you get, the easier it is to get in every time. The cold ceases to have any meaning.
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