When I was at college I did PE at ‘AS’ level. Not ‘ASS’ level – that’s a different thing entirely.
I think AS level was half an A level… or thereabouts.
One lesson consisted of heading down to the local swimming baths. Quite frankly, this was my kind of lesson since I went swimming to escape the education system half of the time anyway.
Nobody else in our class turned up after the first couple of weeks, but I never missed it. The PE teacher used to rock up at the baths, see I was there, tick off some form and then sit on the side chilling out for an hour before heading off.
It always used to make me laugh, that he’d turn up just for that. He was very tall with a fine moustache.
That’s about all I remember about him, other than the fact I once put a £1 in a college vending machine to get a can of coke. It never dispensed the can and he walked away from the risk of losing his pound after seeing mine get devoured with no reward. Charming.
I’ve never been a fantastic swimmer, but I’m okay. I can make it to the other end without drowning; in my world that’s an accomplishment.
I always used to feel elated after a swim. When I joined the gym years later I made sure I joined one with a swimming pool.
They also had an outdoor pool which I’d go in instead of the indoor one, because they had a radio playing outside, which made me feel like I was on holiday.
For some reason, a number of years ago I just stopped. I think it was because I felt like training + swimming was taking up too much time, but I should have carried on.
I was thinking about this the other week and ended up lusting after chlorinated-water based activity, so I started again after not doing it for… 15 YEARS.
How does that much time go by when you’re looking the other way?
I was a bit nervous the first time I went back. What if I got in and had forgotten what to do. What if i just sank like a brick to the bottom.
That would be a terrible epitaph:
“He came. He saw. He sank.”
“Today we lost a good one. A chap called Dean, who ended up chlorinated at the bottom of the shallow end. RIP.”
Thankfully none of that happened and I found that I still had the power (a bit like He-Man but without the big sword or the close up grin whenever Skeletor was around).
A funny thing happens when you swim. If you stop at one end, people start talking to you, even when you look in the other direction.
Maybe water makes people feel chatty or something? It’s all the oxygen that goes to their brain.
I don’t mind shooting the breeze a bit, but I once had someone who used to tell me all about their love life in between sets. He tricked me by pretending to be a normal quiet person for 7 years. I made the mistake of saying something to him once and that unleashed a confession floodgate.
There was another guy who I dubbed: “The most boring man in the history of the world” (he really was). I once hid behind a pillar from him and somehow he found me. He used to show me pictures of himself with his friends standing by their cars. “We love our cars”, he exclaimed in glorious monotone.
That was as exciting as it got.
He once said, “Give me your number so we can train together”. I’d rather watch ‘Play Misty For Me’ on endless repeat.
Swimming is handy when you meet someone like that as there’s always the option of swimming half a length underwater to get away.
So far I’ve been a few times and I definitely feel mentally sharper/lighter as a result, so I am going to stick with it.
Anyway, here’s a picture of me not wearing any trunks…
What do you think?
Sorry, I meant to say: Here’s a picture of my trunks not wearing me. Next time I’ll include my goggles as they are feeling left out.
The first time I went swimming again, I ended up in the wrong changing rooms and had to walk back across the leisure centre into reception just wearing trunks. Awks.
I’m playing this one out with Nightswimming by REM…