Two weeks

Gosh, I can't believe it's more than two weeks since I last posted to the blog. What with Christmas and all the stuff that happens leading up to it (I had five carol services to do the music for, and a Santa gig for 360 children), I just haven't had time to get to the PC.

I have been swimming though! Today was my first time back in the water since Christmas day. The Lido was closed on Boxing day, and you had to sign up for a slot to swim on Christmas day (and yes, I was too late to do that). So, 8.30 this morning and I was back in water that was 6.6 degrees. Lovely! First in. Okay, it was raining, and it was dull and cloudy, but there's nothing quite like slipping into a silky smooth pool and hearing the gentle plop of water as your hands enter on each stroke. Lovely!

So, I'll be back in the water tomorrow first thing. I need to burn off some of my excess turkey and Christmas pud.

Shock

I don't want to bore you with endless accounts of how cold the water is ... but, it was cold this morning.

Last week the water temperature dropped to 8.9 degrees. That was bit of a shock. It was though, nothing like the shock I received this morning. The temperature of the water was 6.8 degrees. Yes, 6.8 degrees! The changing room was full (okay, think December-full, not July-full), full of shivering, bright orange men.

The wall between the men's and ladies' changing rooms is paper thin. I don't know if the ladies know that, but we men can hear everything they're saying. (So, be warned if you intend to use the ladies changing room!) Giggles and gossip seeped through the wall from the ladies, whilst we men stood quietly and stoically, shivering.

I wonder if the ladies can hear us? Maybe I should start up a blokey conversation tomorrow and give the ladies something to think about. Mind you, if it's as cold tomorrow, I think I'll just be quietly shivering.

OAP

"Sorry sir, but I need to ask. Are you an old age pensioner?" This is what the receptionist at the Lido asked me this morning. Not a good start really. Before you ask, no I am not an old age pensioner. (I guess I must have looked like one this morning though.)

I could imagine looking like an OAP after a freezing swim, with wheezy breath, bright orange and pimply skin, and hair that's frozen into a style that's part punk and part perm. But, first thing in the morning I hope I look young and fit. Maybe that's my next target, getting the receptionist to ask me if I'm a student (not a mature student, but a young and virile student, a young and virile student who looks ready to swim for Britain). Or maybe I should just be content with sneaking anonymously into the changing rooms (which is difficult when you're one of only two swimmers going into the pool).

9.7 degrees this morning. Positively baking compared to last week. In the playground this afternoon, someone suggested monitoring my heart rate before, during, and after a swim. What a great idea. I just need to dig out that old heart rate monitor ... OAP? Just wait. A heart rate to die for. (Maybe not.)