The P in our pools...

I mentioned to a few colleagues today that I was going swimming this evening after work. I can't quite remember how (it was probably my doing) but the conversation quickly turned to peeing in public pools. As I swam tonight I contemplated the amount of urine in the water I was now swimming through. It wasn't a pleasant thought.

Up and down my lane I swam, thinking that only kids would do such a thing. I couldn't see anyone near me younger than 20 and surely no adult would urinate in Cardiff International Pool, would they? Furthermore, if they did, don't they use a chemical that turns the water red when it comes into contact with urine, thereby pinpointing and shaming the perpetrator?

When I got home from the pool, I decided to see what information I could find online. In a US study, when questioned, one in five adult Americans admitted to peeing in public pools. I dread to think what the percentage is for kids. There's even a Peeing in Swimming Pools Facebook Page. As for chemicals that dye the water red or dark blue when urine is detected; it's an urban myth - no such chemical exists.

I then read a US website about pool hygiene which started by asking people not to swim if they have diarrhea. At that point I stopped reading. I can't help thinking that front crawl may not be such an attractive stroke...

Wearing nothing but underpants, flip flops and an old fleece top...

I went out last night to celebrate my birthday. I drank far too much and danced (loosely speaking) my little legs off. Consequently, today has been a slow day lacking impetus and with no dynamism whatsoever. I wouldn't say that I'm hungover but, let's say, I've seen better days. My proudest achievement thus far today has been to eat my own weight in cereal and to watch 4 episodes of Downton Abbey, bringing me bang up to speed.

I haven't had a day doing nothing in such a long time. I felt guilty initially but I think it's just what I needed: to spend the whole day lying on the sofa, watching TV and eating Weetabix, wearing nothing but underpants, flip flops and an old fleece top.

Such a glamorous life...

The best cure for holiday blues...

I know that I've only recently come back from holiday but they do say that the best cure for holiday blues is to book the next holiday. So that's what I've done; I've booked a week in Fuerteventura in November after seeing a good deal online - a deal that was way too good to miss. So, I'm excited. It's only two months away and I can almost feel the sun on my butt.

This holiday is a totally different type of holiday to my last. My last holiday saw me running around Istanbul, visiting this mosque or that palace; whereas this holiday is one where I lie on a beach for a week doing absolutely nothing except being lazy. So, as I swam tonight; there was no planning of what to see and dreaming of what it'll be like there. No. I've been to Fuerteventura so many times in the past, I've seen most of what there is to see (sand, rock and aloe vera plants). All that I could dream of whilst I swam tonight was that lovely feeling of the sun on my back - and that will be all the sweeter in that dark and dank month of November.

Curiously, I don't do that much swimming when I go to Fuerteventura. Yes, I'll splash about in the sea whilst the fishies nibble me and yes I'll do the odd length of the hotel pool but it's not the sort of swimming you'd do for exercise. It is quite literally a splash - an enjoyable splash but no more.

Instead, however, I will run. Not huge distances; just a little over 3km every day about 5:00pm. That way, I don't start drinking until the evening! Having been there so many times before, there is no running route for me to work out as I've done it countless times. I could run it with my eyes shut.

I'll be ready for a bit of Canarian sun come November.

Lethargy, lassitude, torpor, torpidity, stupor, languor...

I'm not quite sure why I feel so lethargic but I have done ever since I returned from my week in Istanbul last Saturday. I just can't summon the enthusiasm to do anything. Normally I'm always on the go; always doing something - go for a run, go for a swim, nip to Tesco, pop into town etc. However for this last week all I've wanted to do is mooch.

I've had to force myself out of bed every morning this week; something that never happens. I've never had any difficulty getting out of bed, I'm up and about usually before they've finished the first news headline on Radio 4's Today Programme when my alarm goes off at 6:30am. Today saw me languishing there, entangled in the duvet like some 1930s Hollywood starlet.

Once up, this last week has seen me loitering around my computer, not actually doing anything. l just blankly stare at the monitor, like I'm tranfixed by the interweb ions. I've had to force myself away to do things that need doing, such as laundry, food shopping, cleaning etc. The thought of a run or a swim, this week, has been such an effort and inconvenience. It feels like I've occupied someone else's body.

Today I sat about drinking coffee and playing on my computer until about 11:30am and then I had to force myself to wash, dress, clean my teeth and then cycle to the pool for a swim. Once in the water, of course, everything's fine and I'm pleased that I bothered; it's the thought of it that's the hard part. In fact, today's swim was a speedy affair that saw me power up and down the lanes with enough energy for two swimmers.

I wonder why I'm finding it so difficult just to get going in the first place?