An early morning Sunny Stockwell start with a meet ‘n’ greet with the decorators. We’ve got a couple of Palace boys booked in at South Lambeth Road for later in the month.
The 7am Friday conversation was more about football than colour schemes.
And then it had to happen: the lovely lido.
Oh bloody hell.
I’ve been building this up in my mind over the past few days. I left Lake Brockwell just before the Christmas break with the temperature around 7 degrees.
Friday was the first morning that I have been South London bound since the New Year.
To not swim would be a personal failure. I would feel a fraud bouncing around a South London school, knowing that I hadn’t achieved my own personal target for the day.
I arrived poolside to find a water temperature of 4.6 degrees. This is the coldest that I have taken to the Brockwell blue waters without a wetsuit.
Apparently there was ice down the road at Tooting. Lido folklore explains this difference as a consequence of Brockwell having lane ropes, so the water can keep flowing.
I just don’t get science, but I wasn’t complaining.
The only way to approach such a morning is to get stripped, carry out the walk of shreddies shame past the Lido Cafe down to the deep end, and then F-IT.
Just bloody get in Jase.
Ooohhhhh.
That feels rather pleasant actually.
I concentrated on keeping a steady stroke, and not to upset the rhythm of my heart. Touchdown after the first length felt fine.
I’ll have a little more of that, thank you very much.
Four lengths for four degrees.
And then it bloody hit me.
Brrrrr.
The chill blades back in the shower were more painful than the cold water pins pressing into my flesh whilst swimming. I ended up dancing around in the gents.
@Mutley69 put the hand drier down his trousers.
“Why aren’t we still swimming back in Clap’ham?”
…I asked, the first pool in which Mr Mutley and I first bonded over a love of water.
“Because Clap’ham is now a crappy pool with a bloody village changing room”
…came the reply.
Good point, well made Mr Mutley.
I cycled back through Brixton, and then a busy school day over in SW9.
The School Choir put in a wonderful performance. I’m not sure if the name change to (I Can Get) Satisfaction was deliberate or not.
Accentuate the positives, etc.
Boy Y approached me over luncheon:
“Sir, you are a clever man.”
Why cheers, fella.
“Do my homework for me, Bruv.”
Oh.
I walked back to the flat late in the afternoon. It was raining and I simply didn’t have the energy, even for the short bicycle ride.
I put in a shift editing the school content whilst carrying on listening to the Rip It Up Spotify playlist.
I felt on familiar territory with Dexy’s, The Beat and Bow Wow Wow.
A little FaceTime with Anna, and then the second half of the West Ham Vs Man City match.
Lido days are upon us once again in the morning.
Oh Lordy.