I used to run 15km three times a week. Then in December 2009 my knee said, "No more!" I took up swimming whilst the physiotherapist got me back into shape and running again.
I hadn't swum in years; not since they demolished the Empire Pool in 1998 to make way for the Millennium Stadium in the centre of Cardiff. I got back into swimming quite quickly and really started to enjoy it. In my mind's eye I sliced through the water with minimal effort, like a well buttered dolphin, whereas the reality was probably nearer a rasping, injured and distressed amphibian thrashing out life's final gasps. No matter; it was an enjoyable alternative until I was given the green light to begin running again.
When that green light came, rather than ditch the swimming, I kept it going and have done to this day. I became a member of the Cardiff International Pool and go swimming there on the days when I don't run. My 500m splashes are not going to win me any prizes or give me that much coveted swimmer's physique but I find they loosen me up, calm me down and ensure that my joints keep moving. I look forward to it in the same way I look forward to running; as a bridge I need to cross from the world of work into the evening.
Today had been a busy work day and I was looking forward to my cool and calming swim. However, this was not to be. The staff at the pool had decided to let some teenagers with raging hormones spill over from the leisure pool into the 50m laned pool for some running, diving, horseplay and heavy petting sessions. After being barged twice and kicked once I got out and complained.
It was the look on the pool attendant's face of "What do you expect me to do about it?" that really sent me overboard.
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