Don’t tell me I can’t… go skinny-dipping
Teacher Alison Powell put her wild streak to good use when she turned 40
Taking a deep breath, I unclasped my bra and whipped off my knickers, dropping them on to the pile of clothes next to my feet. Before I knew it, I was sprinting into the waves, along with over 400 other skinny-dippers. aged 40, you might think I was too old for this sort of teenage antic. But honestly, I’d never felt so alive!
I’d always been a daredevil, so no one was surprised when I moved to New Zealand after university to pack parachutes for a skydiving company in January 2000. Every weekend, the pilots would take us up for a free skydive, and I loved swooping over the patchwork of towns below, a strange mix of adrenaline and tranquillity surging through my body.
But I knew my adventure-filled life in New Zealand couldn’t last forever, and after moving back home to the UK and studying for a teacher-training qualification, I landed a job as an English teacher at a secondary school in Bristol. Although it felt good to lay down roots, I took up kick-boxing classes to satisfy my inner adrenaline junkie.
Then, in 2010, disaster struck when I slipped a disc in my back while I was practising kicks in one of my lessons. The injury was so painful, I was eventually forced to leave my job.
Sitting trapped in my house with nothing to do but read or watch television, I felt at my lowest ebb. Sensing I needed a pick-me-up, a friend recommended I read Yes Man, a memoir about a man who says yes to everything for a year of his life. By the end of it, I felt so inspired, I decided to adopt the same approach.
Over the next months, as I slowly got better, I felt my adventurous streak starting to resurface. I accepted a new job at an educational website and even agreed – albeit somewhat tentatively – to take part in an all-female theatre production where I had to dance naked.
At first, I dreaded the idea of baring all in front of strangers – I was almost 40, for goodness’ sake! But once we’d all flung our clothes off, I’d never felt more liberated. So in November 2010, still on a high, I took to Facebook and typed a cheeky post, ‘Anybody fancy skinnydipping after work?’
I was utterly surprised when 50 people responded, saying they would if it was summer. That’s when the idea struck me. What if I could organise a mass skinnydip? It would be an amazing opportunity to get other people to celebrate their naked bodies. However, I knew I’d need to give people a very good reason to shed their clothes, so I approached Marie Curie to suggest making it a fundraising event.
With their help, I began to promote the dip on national radio spots, and set up a Facebook group where I invited everyone I knew. By June 2011, we’d attracted 413 fundraisers – enough to set a Guinness World Record!
At 8.30am on Sunday 19 June 2011, we all lined up along the shore of Rhossili beach in Gower, South Wales. I took to the front of the crowd with my megaphone and started the countdown.
Within seconds, people were stripping off and running towards the water. I whipped my own clothes off as quickly as I could and joined them. The sea was absolutely freezing, but as the waves barrelled against us – making our bellies wobble and splashing our faces with foam – we were so caught up in the fun, we didn’t care. Cheering each other on, we were having the time of our lives.
Not only did we break the world record, but our carefree antics helped us raise £30,000 for Marie Curie. And in 2013, I helped the charity organise its own official skinny-dip.
I always thought I was a daredevil for jumping out of planes, but in truth, it takes a very different kind of courage to run completely naked into the sea. I thought that my fun had come to an end when I moved back to the UK from New Zealand. But at 40, it was only just beginning.
‘We had the time of our lives’