Tis true what they say: time flies like an arrow, and fruit flies like a banana. For a whole month has passed since my last post and we find ourselves back in
The Swimmer territories - my favourite destination for a Saturday. If the
February Swimmer felt mild, this installment was positively balmy, with temps in double figures the whole morning.
Unfort Brockwell Icicle and photographer extraordinaire Peter was away on dutiful-husband duties so you'll have to make do with my craphazard photos. Alternatively you could check out this excellent
little video made by one of Saturday's cast,
Turner Moyse. It really captures the sense of the wheels coming off as the journey goes on.
After the usual 7am meet at Hampstead starbucks to sign away our lives, we hit the heath and soon splintered into girls and boys teams for the respective ponds.
Turnout was appropriately high on the ladies' side for International
Women's Day - NINE in total. A new record and quite the contrast to my
first ever Swimmer, when I enquired nervously "when do all the other
women arrive..?"
A lady who worked at the pond was so excited by this superabundance of women that she gave us balloons to clutch for our team photo.
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| Go the mighty girls |
Then a brisk trot to catch up with the boys at Parliament Hill Lido...
And what a lido it is! So spacious at 60m, and an all-over sensory experience with steel lining + cold water combo.
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| Oh the dames they are a-changin' |
Just time to glug down some water and catch our breath in the carpark....
...before setting off to Hyde Park for some Serpentine splashings.
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| Rev Graham: London's answer to The Fonze |
No sooner had Swimmer newcomer Andy (pictured above) given proceedings two thumbs up than he executed a most elegant tumble coming out of Regents Park, drawing the first Swimmer blood:
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| Knocked knee |
Arriving at the Serpentine I gleefully informed some of the first-timers that we do not, unfortunately, have access to the swim club facilities and would, indeed, be changing by the lake in full view of the world, his wife and their two dogs. Like the first two swims, the waters felt almost warm - or, at 7-8 degrees, at least lacking that chilly edge of recent months, affording a lovely pleasant swim (once you'd come to terms with the scary swans and general presence of duck poo).
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| Bin thinking of writing a love litter..? |
Next stop: serpentine carpark for morale-boosting cake - particularly excellent offerings this month of sloe gin and blackberry cake from Brockwell Icicle Liz and lemon sponge from Swimmer co-organiser Jonathan. Plus Anna's almost-hot sweet tea and a cheeky smoke for me, leaving us ready to take on the final 10k leg to Brockwell lido. Before we set off, Rev Graham announced he would be departing at this point for his son's birthday, so of course we all sang Happy Birthday dear Oliver and clapped at the end, which was sort of weird given Oliver wasn't there, but also just very very Good.
Running ability was pretty evenly matched in the group this month, allowing for plenty of pack-running through Kensington, over Battersea Bridge and down into Battersea Park - Liz and I breathing our usual sigh of relief as we gained the south side of mother Thames. By tacit understanding the every-man-for-himself ethic kicked in as usual just before Clapham, and I completed the last 5k at a respectable canter with acrobatic Andy, our destination hoving into view just as my right knee was drawing breath to protest.
Hooray for Brockwell lido! Saving the best til last.
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| My natural habitat |
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| Here comes Jonathan |
Group dive and a few beautiful, soothing lengths, soapy shower to wash off all the sweat, mud and leaves, and then that transcendental moment: the piercing of the poached egg at the lido cafe. Ahhh...
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| Simon puts in a cameo appearance |
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| Marcus struggles to come to terms with the bill |
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| "This can't be right" |
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| "Surely there must be a way out of this" |
Good eggs all round.
