In the frigid darkness of a March night, I stepped out into the snow-globe world, gearing up for my first wild swim of 2023. The moment had arrived with my friend Lucy's banana-yellow car pulling up outside my house. I stood on the precipice of adventure, dreading every step, feeling a kinship with Bilbo Baggins facing the unknown.

My lovely friend Lucy was raising money for cancer. But rather than opting for a warm, comfortable fundraiser, she embarked on a 'dip a day' challenge in March, the coldest month of the year. Whoop Whoop! 🙌

I detest swimming. Cold water is not my friend. Plus, I didn't even own a swimming costume. Agreeing to go sums up my sentiments towards Lucy and seeing it through, my commitment to meeting challenges.

When I agreed to this chilly escapade, I knew it would be cold, it was March after all. What I didn't anticipate was the snow. And when the snowflakes started to fall, I assumed the dip would be postponed. It wasn't.

The Anticipation: Battling Excuses - Leading up to this promised dip, my mind concocted a barrage of excuses. Even in the height of summer, the mere thought of getting wet in the UK makes my chest seize up and has. me reaching for my asthma inhaler. With snow on the ground, the dread intensified. I questioned the sanity of this endeavour, listing out to myself all the rational reasons not to go. This struggle against excuses became intimately intertwined with my wild swimming journey.

Lucy, the brave initiator of this chilling escapade, is one of my yogi friends. She had recently faced her own cancer challenges. She had endured a year of illness, chemotherapy, radiotherapy and multiple surgeries. Faced the dark nights of dread, the side effects, the hair falling out. And as if that wasn't enough. she was waiting to learn the outcome of cancer biopsies for both her parents. Lucy's indomitable spirit was ridiculously inspiring. The three of us who accompanied her that winter's night were all blown away by her strength and spirit. It was her courage that made us volunteer to take the plunge, both figuratively and literally.

The Actual Swim: Overcoming difficulty and discomfort - As we stood at the water’s edge, snowflakes continued to fall, and the river's surface was eerily beautiful. The unknown, camaraderie, and reassurance from my friends made it possible for me to stick my first foot into the cold wet blackness. I am struggling with the words to describe the shock of the water. It felt like being attacked by a thousand knives. Doubt set in. I was in up to my waist but somehow couldn’t take the next step. But I did. I did because I said I would. I did it because I my own personal narrative is ‘I am someone who gets through difficult things’. But the difficulty didn't last. I moved through the cold, painful, difficult thing. And on the other side was exhilaration, human connection, laughter, and friendship. As we swam and laughed, the fear gave way to an exhilaration that I had never experienced before. The river's embrace was both cold and comforting, an electrifying reminder that sometimes, it's only by facing our fears and doing what is difficult that we truly come alive.

Reflection & Transformation - I have carried on wild swimming (never alone, like my proper wild swimming friends do), and I still hate the thought of it. I still hate the attack of knives; I still hate the heart-stopping cold and the feeling that I am going to die. But I know what lies on the other side of the fear and dislike.

Reflecting on this journey from dread to empowerment, I'm grateful for the transformative power of wild swimming and the unwavering support of my community. It's a testament to the strength of the human spirit and the importance of setting intentions to overcome our fears. Sometimes, the things we dread the most can lead to the most profound and exhilarating moments of our lives. This is the story of wild swimming, community, and the beauty that emerges when we embrace the challenges that life presents.

Your own personal Challenge - Now, as you read about my plunge into the icy waters and the transformation that followed, I challenge you to think about your own moments of hesitation and the transformative power that might be waiting on the other side of discomfort.

Consider this an invitation to reflect on the times you've faced your own metaphorical icy river. Maybe it's a career change, a daunting project, or a personal goal that seemed insurmountable. Take a moment to recall the sensation of doubt, the surge of determination, and the eventual triumph over your fears.

And yoga can have a part to play in this for you. Yoga can be difficult. In fact, everyone finds something in yoga difficult. We're all good and bad at different things. But those of us who develop a yoga practice have done so by setting the intention to do so. Key to this intention-setting is committing to not letting ourselves off when it's cold and dark, or it hurts, or we're not very good at it. The power of yoga is the power of committing to our intention.

Just as Lucy's indomitable spirit inspired me, I hope this story nudges you to explore the untapped reservoirs of strength within yourself. What lies beyond your comfort zone? What exhilaration, human connection, and laughter are waiting for you on the other side of things that you find difficult?