An icy-cold present

PLUNGE POOL Belmullet Tidal Pool on a warmer, more inviting day.

Finding peace of mind in a tidal pool in Belmullet

The Cast Stone
Michael Gallagher

We all do it. Whether it’s general living or in sport we trot out well-worn phrases to help us through. ‘Stay calm’ is one of the most over-used of all these. Those of us involved with sports teams hear it all the time, but like everything in life, staying calm is easier said than done when the heart races and passion, fear or nervousness takes hold.
Recently, I took part in an event designed to bring calmness to pressurised situations and I adored every second. As usual, prior to the event, I doubted my ability to succeed in something way outside of my comfort zone, but the end result was brilliantly satisfying.
Let’s cut to the chase. A friend, John Gaughan, is developing a business where he literally changes lives. Of course, to do so, he had to change his own first. He achieved this in a number of ways, one of which has seen him immerse himself in the sea every single day for the past 900 days. It sounds simple, and it is. But most great ideas are utterly simple.
John assured a few of us that stepping into Belmullet’s tidal pool and braving the brutal, bracing cold was the very best thing we could do on a recent Saturday afternoon. At that stage, I wasn’t sure whether John was half mad or fully demented, but the concept was so simple it appealed to my inner adventurer.
In years gone by, I have walked on hot coals, bent a metal rod with my Adam’s apple and done a few other mad things – but these were all shows of bravado, when my world was a younger place. These days, I’m in the second half of life: there should be some modicum of sense between the lugs, so departing the comfort zone for any length of time needs to be explained to the ‘sensible’ part of my brain.
However, a few of us were heading to Belmullet to answer John’s invitation, and we had agreed to give it a try. I knew I’d last somewhere between five and 30 seconds in the water, but at least I would take part, even if fleetingly.
On the morning of the adventure, I packed two beach towels into the gear bag and headed off with the lads. John spoke to us at a meeting in Bangor and explained the benefits of what we were about to undertake. He told us the project would help us deal with pressurised situations in life – moments when the heart races and the thought process becomes muddled and tries to fire fight.
He explained the power of breathing calmly, exhaling smoothly and regulating one’s heartbeat. I nodded along with everyone else, but I was absolutely frightened at the prospect of tearing off layers of clothing on the edge of the ocean in Belmullet and climbing down into the (admittedly wonderful) tidal pool.
Long story short, we arrived at the edge of the world on the worst, gustiest, sleetiest day imaginable, threw on shorts and timidly climbed down into the freezing waters. As I felt the icy grip greet me I looked around to see if there were brass monkeys desperately looking for a welder, but there were none to be seen.
When the water reached shoulder level the heart was beating like a drummer on speed, but for once, I followed instructions: Deep, slow breaths, followed by a long powerful exhalation were employed, and lo and behold the heart rate slowed, the cold became bearable and the goal of at least lasting 30 seconds was blown apart.
Madly, I loved it. The sense of achievement was growing by the second, and because the body was doing its utmost to fend off the cold there was no time to think about problems, deadlines, bills, work, football or anything at all. We were truly and completely living in the moment. The past didn’t exist, the future was a foreign country, all that mattered was remaining calm, staying composed and existing.
John Gaughan had promised a memorable experience, and he delivered brilliantly. The art of staying calm in pressurised situations is priceless, and a lesson well-learned on the edge of the Atlantic.