(Some Of The) Things I Think About When I Am Swimming

NUMBERS

...as in I've done five lengths, which is half of 10, which is a tenth of 100, which is two more than a mile and a half, which is 98, which halved is 49, which is almost five x 10, which is...oh, I've done six lengths, which doubled is 12, which is four less than a quarter of a mile, which is a quarter of 64, which is three more than my locker number at prep school, which was 61, which doubled would be six less than two miles, which is...oh, I've done seven lengths, which is a third of 21, which is when I was 21 and had long hair, which was longer than it is now, which costs £10 to get cut, which is maybe 100 quid a year (my hair grows quickly), which is five quid less than my gym membership, which is..oh, I've done eight lengths, which is a third of 24, which is two large boxes of eggs, which would make eight omlettes, which are nice, which...oh, I've done nine lengths, which is half of eighteen, can you get married at 18 or 16, 16 is how old I was when I first went to Greece, which was with my mum, who I first remember as being 41, which tripled is five lengths less than two miles, oh..I've done 10 lengths which is half of 20, which is usually when I stop to adjust my goggles, but today I'm going to do it at 32 lengths, which is half a mile, which is 64, which is how old that guitarist from The Police is, or is he 62, which is in 52 lengths time, oh, I've done eleven lengths so in 51 lengths time, which is...well you get the numbers idea. And my maths is terrible, so I keep having to double check these figures as I plough up and down the pool. But it kills time, and puts me into a sort of numbers trance not thinking about the actual swimming, which makes it easier to swim.

AND LETTERS

...as in counting out a stroke to each letter of Smiths lyrics, or to the spelling out of the names of bands I have seen live, or the titles of songs I can honestly say I can play from the beginning to the end on the guitar (which takes about half a length), or the names of old girlfriends, or animals, which can evolve into a good groove trying to think of an animal whose name starts with the last letter of the last one (elephant, tiger, rhino, ostrich, hen etc.), which in turn can take me onto countries that I have even visited - spelling them out again per stroke, which usually takes me back to Smiths lyrics, or trying to remember numbers in French, which can get me back to the numbers (in English) thing.

This whole - deeply relaxing - process is much helped by the fact that I have just re-joined my swanky gym, and no longer - well not just now anyway - have to swim in a public pool, where most of one's thoughts are on whether or not there is actually sufficient room to get a full length in without being kicked in the chin by the person in front of you or being slapped on the ankle by the person behind you, or whether or not that small child in the shallow end is looking quite so pleased in its mother's arms because it is having a piss, or being asked by the pool attendants to hurry up because the over 60s aquatic club are joining you in the the 'Getting There' lane. (Other lanes at public pools are called things like 'Fast And Furious' (for which read male homosexuals), and 'Slow Lane' (for which read *&^%ing losers who technically are swimming so slowly that they are not moving at all). I'm not a great swimmer, so I usually went for the 'Getting There' lane, which is usually populated by overweight middle aged men (aka me), bull dykes who are really frustrated that they can't swim as fast as male homosexuals so can't join them in the gay swimathon in 'Fast And Furious', the odd fading blond woman who should be in the Slow Lane but is in denial about how old she is, French or Italian men, and middle aged business men whose wives have left them and who are trying to get fit to impress their PAs. This final population can be easily spotted by the brevity of their swimming trunks, and the fact that they usually have their swimming goggles on upside down. (Actually, I guess there is quite a close correlation between the business men and us fatties, although we at least have the decency to wear big shorts rather than speedo ball grippers.)

But the swimming lane politics is all currently a thing of the past*. Back at my swanky gym, if I time it right, I can be the only person in the pool, and can trudge up and down without a care in the world, except for what a third of 32 is, and whether or not it was cheating swimming three lengths to T.H.E A.R.T.I.S.T F.O.R.M.E.R.L.Y K.N.O.W.N A.S P.R.I.N.C.E when technically I don't think I ever saw him live when he was using that name. Swimming karmic heaven.

*This isn't by any means true, and I will come back to the people who swim at Swanky Gym another time soon.