I went swimming last night. For the first time in years. The first 50m nearly killed me, but fortunately I shared the slow lane with a couple who were only on their second visit, and a lady with a float, as well as a few other, faster swimmers.
After a while I ventured on to my back. I was enjoying it for a while, but then I suddenly started to lose faith that the water would hold me, lost my nerve, got back on to my front and continued to do something that vaguely resembled front crawl.
I think at one point I was even walking in the water.
I did manage to coordinate myself enough to do a few lengths of breast stroke. My defining memory of breast stroke had been feeling I was about to die attempting to swim it, aged 10. But this was surprisingly relaxing.
There was one problem with breast stroke, though. Having my head mostly out of the water left me vulnerable to the rather beastly splashes of one gentleman sharing the lane with us. I quickly moved into a kind of front crawlish doggy paddle every time he passed me, which seemed to do the trick.
Oh, and there was the fact that I was moving so slowly that people had to overtake me. In the slow lane.
Never mind! I had a good time, surprised myself, and will definitely be returning to show off my doggy paddle to Swansea.
I just hope Splash isn’t there on the same day.
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