Category: Swimming

It’s my first ‘sanctioned’ swim meet in New Zealand – Katikati and Wellington were for fun, and the experience.  This event is over two days and held at the Papatoetoe Centennial Pool, South Auckland.  I’ve been topping up my training sessions at the Te Huruhi Primary School pool on Saturday mornings with the occasional Sunday visit to the Tepid Baths in downtown Auckland.  As this is a Long Course meet, that means a 50 metre pool, I put in a session at the Newmarket Olympic Pool, which is woefully undersubscribed, so that team mate Clive and I have a lane to ourselves.

Papatoetoe Centennial Pool

I’ve entered two races on the Friday evening session, but this means leaving Rocky Bay after Lunch and catching the 2.30 ferry with my fold up Brompton bike in the back of the Rav4.  The Brompton continues to get admiring glances and comments like ‘cool bike’ – it’s a great opener for conversation and people love to watch it being folded and un-folded.  At Britomart, I get on a train, but it has broken down and is cancelled.  The next train is fairly full, and gets even more crowded picking up the school kids as we go along.  By the time we get to Papatoetoe, careful manoeuvring is required to get me and the Brompton out of the train.  The cycle ride to the Centennial Pool turns out to be quite short, so I’m in good enough time for the warm-up. It’s a chance to get acquainted with an unfamiliar pool, practice turns and starts.

TAMS Coach Cynthia gets a job judging turns

There are three of us from Team Auckland Masters Swimmers this evening and first up for me is the 100m Backstroke. It really does seem like a long way in a 50 metre pool, but it’s good enough to get a bronze medal.  David is doing the 1500m freestyle and in New Zealand, swimmers are able to swim their 800 metres concurrently but I can’t see how that works strategically.  The organisers are short on officials so I volunteer to flip the number chart at the end of the pool.  In order to save time this event is being done with two swimmers per lane.  This means combining two heats so each lane has a faster and slower swimmer.  For the first heat, we’ve got enough volunteers for each swimmer.  My swimmer is 83 and doing the whole race on his back and so needs to look back at the chart after he’s done his tumble turn.

Over in lane 6 Kath Johnstone, aged 98, is going for a world record.  Early on in the race, there’s a collision between her and the other swimmer in her lane.  She stops.  Long after all the others have finished, Kath is still going.  Every now and then she stops at an end for a rest.  Officials urge her to keep going and half way up the penultimate lap she hangs on to the lane rope for another rest.  I’ve no idea if she got her record or was disqualified. Swimmers discuss the rules and it seems you are allowed to stop or put your feet on the bottom as long as you don’t make progress.  Others reckon they’ve seen her take some steps, but It’s impossible to be sure.  The rain sets in and I get wet flipping for the next double heat.  The volunteers have melted away so I’m looking after two swimmers.  Just before that last heat, I discover that because most people are doing the concurrent entry, there is only the one heat of the 800m and I have to abandon the flip charts so I’m ready to swim.  I feel that I need another warm-up, but the indoor pool has closed.  It’s a bit weird sharing a lane, especially as my younger and faster neighbour has a style which churns up the water with his kick. Once he has finished, I can enjoy the lane to myself. Although my time is quite respectable, I’m knocked into third place by Mark Tibble – last met in Katikati. He has swum faster than me in his first 16 lengths of the 1500. Wow!  It’s a race now, to get the 10.15pm ferry home and David kindly drives me, with the Brompton on his back seat.  I have 14 minutes to spare and get home in time for 6 hours sleep.  I need to get the 7.15 ferry on Saturday morning.

All seven of our team report in on Saturday along with Coach Cynthia Borne. Our butterfly swimmers Ron and Jenny win medals in the punishing 100m; I’m surprised to get a bronze medal in the 50 freestyle and Elizabeth, Clive and Ron get silver medals.  We’ve put together a men’s relay team with a combined age of 240-279 years.  We win both the Medley and freestyle 200m relays. Yay!

In the 50m Backstroke Elizabeth and I both get silver medals and in the 50m Breaststroke, there is a thrilling and close called race between our team-mates Ed and Clive, who are in the same age group. They go for Gold and Silver in that order, while David gets a bronze in his age group. It’s back to the Fly swimmers, Ed, Ron, Jenny and David for more medals followed by me winning gold in the 200m Backstroke.  I know there are no medals for me in the 100m Freestyle as everyone has entered, but I’m next to speedy Ron, two age groups above me. We chase each other up the pool and back.  He beats me by one second.  Apparently our team were jumping and down getting very excited.  It’s all over now but for the mixed Freestyle and Medley relays where we get second and third.  It’s been a fantastic meet and my times are creeping back to where they should be, so I’m well satisfied.

It’s the annual swim meet between TAMS and Different Strokes (DSW).  I’ve got my friend Ros staying so we take a break from walking around Waiheke and fly to Wellington.  I’m staying with Rangimoana and Bill who live within walking distance of Freyberg Pool which juts out into the harbour from the trendy Oriental Parade.  It is here that we will race.  My hosts have a newly acquired pet called Caf – a long haired Chihuahua which Bill refers to as ‘Pussy Dog’. Also staying is a guy called Hans – an interesting Kiwi Bear who now lives in Berlin doing a drag act called Princez Hans.  As it’s Friday night it’s fish and chips for tea.  The shop has got the order wrong and there’s too much to eat.  Never mind, I’m supposed to ‘carb up’ for tomorrow.

Ros has friends to visit nearby and also wants to watch the swimming so I collect her in the morning and we walk to the pool, pausing to have coffee on the sea-front.  Once again, I’ve forgotten which events I’ve entered in this 33.3 metre pool and as we’ve got team relays which count towards the challenge cup, I think that 6 events might be too much.  What to scratch? The warm up decides it as I finish off with a long length of Butterfly, I think ‘Nah, not going to do the 133m Individual Medley.’

The next shock is that I’m in heat 4 of 4 for the 67m freestyle and heat one of the next event, 100m Backstroke.  All I have to do is change from lane 3 to land 2. I hold back on the freestyle but it’s still a struggle doing the backstroke. Kevin from my club and a few years younger just beats me by a second.  It’s his first race of the day. My family have also come to watch and cheer.  Cousin Marie and partner Anne then later my niece with her partner and 8 month son.  It’s quite an occasion and with only 42 competitors, it all goes very quickly.  There’s last minute reorganisation of the relays and I move from the Mixed Medley to the 4x67m freestyle relay plus the 15×33.3m relay which counts towards the Challenge Cup.  There are some very young, fast and beautiful guys from Australia who’ve flown in for this meet – they are mostly from a Melbourne gay club called the Glamourhead Sharks.  They actually win the relay but as it’s between Wellington and Auckland clubs, that doesn’t count.  The Wellington swimmers are younger and faster than us and we have to graciously admit defeat and in the process get to hug and kiss everyone.  There are no medals or age group categories, it’s just a fun swim, but I do take note of my times.

Wellington is experiencing a heat wave and the harbour is looking great. When it’s like this, Wellington harbour is one of the best and when it’s cold windy and wet, one of the worst.  I go off with friend and family to a harbour-side bar for a beer and a meal.  There’s a play on at the National Museum, Te Papa, and Anne has nipped out during the swimming to get tickets for us.  Helen Pearse-Otane’s play ‘The Ragged’ is the first of a quartet following the life of a family from the 1840 new British Colony at Port Nicholson, Wellington through the years and into the future.  This is the early days of the New Zealand Company, acting independently of the British Government and headed by the unscrupulous Edward Gibbon Wakefield.  An illiterate immigrant (Samuel) from Manchester, England, has paid for land.  When he rows out of the harbour to Te Miti on the south coast he finds that the local tribe has not sold it.  He decides to stay and is adopted by the chief.  There is a Pakeha (white man) slave who is trouble and following the murders of the chief’s sons and grandchildren, the slave is served up to the self-important dignitaries from the new settlement.  Samuel marries the chief’s daughter-in-law and thus a new family is begun and he has his land after all.  It’s a powerful piece of work, beautifully spoken in Maori and English.  Veteran director and actor Jim Moriarty has directed strongly and also plays the ailing Maori chief.  At the end, we are invited to comment on the experience.  After several enthusiastic replies, my friend Rangimoana, who works at the museum, gets up and does a long speech in Maori, congratulating and acknowledging each performer and their origins.  I get the gist and everyone is moved by his powerful oration.  We take Ros back with us for wine and talk, into the night.

Sunday is the day of the harbour swim, which also happens in Oriental Bay.  Some of my team-mates are doing this 3K event and I go down to see if I can spot any of them.  I arrive as the last few swimmers are emerging from the sea but I’ve missed most of it.  I do, however, manage to meet up with Coach Cynthia and others who have swum.  After the prize – giving we go to the same harbour-side bar for beer and food.  I’m off for the rest of the weekend to spend some time with my great nephew, George. Ros and I meet up on Monday in the departure lounge of Wellington Airport for our return flight to Auckland.

This is my first masters swim meet in New Zealand and of the New Year.  It’s in the small Bay of Plenty town of Katikati.  I’ve looked at some of the results from various meets around the country and noted that there are quite a few fast swimmers in my age group.  The Taupo club seems to have a few of these and there’s a guy in his early 60’s called Les who is very fast.

It’s a leisurely start from Waiheke on a mid-day ferry followed by a drive of just over two hours. There’s even time for a power nap at the Katikati motel before walking a few blocks to the Dave Hume Pool for a 4pm warm up.

It’s an out-door 33.3m pool, a distance I haven’t raced since my teens and as I arrive, the last few casual swimmers are leaving. Inside, the lane ropes are being rolled out so I head for the changing room where 85 year old Syd spots me putting on my TAMS t-shirt (the rest of my gear has Out to Swim logos).

‘I’m an honorary member of TAMS’ he says and we introduce each other.  It’s good to know I’m not the only gay swimmer here.

Kati Kati pool

There isn’t seating and we all find a spot on the grassy bank on one side.  There are about forty swimmers and I get a warm welcome from one of the organisers who tells me I’m the first Team Auckland swimmer to come to this meet – he had to add the club to his data base.  The next thing that happens is a woman introduces herself as Sue Pollard, and I’m thinking British comedy actress, who says she’s a colleague of Sara’s.  Sara?  I’m thinking hard and eventually twig (the brain is a bit slow these days) that Sara who has the weekend house down the bottom of my garden has told be about this woman. So Sue and I become fast friends for the rest of the day.

I’ve forgotten what events I’ve entered and there’s been no sending out of heat sheets.  I’m in Event 1, Heat 2 – the 400 freestyle, so it’s best to get warmed up. There’s a guy behind me and Sue and I overhear something that suggests he’s from Taupo.  I turn around and ask him if he’s Les.  He is, so I shake his hand and tell him that he’s faster than me.  At it turns out in the 400, around a minute faster – wow.  As there are mostly two or three heats in each event, things go pretty quickly and I find there’s only one heat for the 200m Backstroke.  The time’s a bit slow, but I’m the only one in my age group.  It’s the same for the 100m Backstroke and Les tells me that his shoulders aren’t up to doing this stroke at the moment, though I’ve noticed that he did the 200m Individual Medley at last year’s Nationals.  The whole meet takes less that two hours and Les wins all his races, I win two backstroke races and come third in all the freestyle while a guy called Mark comes second.  Mark, however, wins a butterfly race so the overall result is that Mark and I share second place for the event and get a silver medal.

While we are getting changed, the lane ropes are rolled up and the barbecue lit to cook sausages and steak.  There’s a great selection of salads and second helpings of steak followed by ice-cream.  It’s been one of those lovely small meets but quite a challenge to do five races in that time. The main thing is that I’ve worked out my place in the pecking order in New Zealand swimming and what I have to work on for the long course Nationals in March.

Triumphs and tragedy with some near misses at the ASA National Masters swimming meet

 It’s my last race meeting on this side of the world for at least two years, so it’s a bit of an emotional weekend.  I’ve had a fantastic year around Britain (Swansea, Crawley & Barnet Coptal) and Europe (Amsterdam, Prague, Paris, Copenhagen and Barcelona) with my club Out to Swim.  There’s been great team support and camaraderie, not to mention adventures and laughs.  I’ve a drawer full of medals, but there’s no chance at Sheffield this weekend as all the 60 year-olds have flooded into my age group, not to mention the 62 year-olds who did the same last year.  I’ll be happy to maintain my times and by the time I return from New Zealand in two years time and in another age group, there just might be a faint glimpse of a bronze medal.

 

Team-mate Michael and I travel up on the train on Friday morning.  He’s been ill, away on holiday and hasn’t trained for three weeks.  We discuss on the train the advisability of doing the 100m Individual Medley with a chest cough.  I’m only doing this event because coach, Martin has decided that I’m a medley swimmer even though I don’t like breaststroke and butterfly is exhausting.  By the time we get to Sheffield, Lucile (6^th) and Lizzie (4^th) have already swum the exhausting 1500 freestyle.  This event has taken all morning as swimmers’ times range from 45 to 16 minutes and there are15 heats divided between two pools.  Lucile says she’s exhausted but looks great.

I should explain. Ponds Forge pool is 50 metres + and for this event is divided by a bridge into to 25m pools.  The men swim at the north end and the women at the diving pool end, unless there are mixed heats.

 

I’m always nervous at least until my first event is underway.  There’s an empty lane next to me in the 100 IM where Michael should be, but he’s wisely decided, with head coach Michelle’s encouragement, not to do it.  As it’s only the second time I’ve swum this event, my time is ok and I’m looking forward to the 50 backstroke. In the mean time, we’ve got to look after three young guys who are competing for the first time ever. It’s so confusing getting into the right place at the right time with no marshals, you just have to get to the blocks your self and if you don’t the starter doesn’t wait.  We rally round the new guys getting them to warm up and we take them down to the starting area to make sure they don’t miss out.  JT is one such and does a very creditable 100 IM. In the same event, Oscar, improves his time from the Montreal international meet.  It’s all going so well, with Lizzie winning gold in the 200 fly but my 50m backstroke is fairly slow.  After tea, there’s a personal best in the 100m Freestyle – something I thought would never happen.  I have to give new boy, Leo some credit for this.  It’s his first race and he’s in the lane next to me.  We used to train in the same lane, but lately he’s moved ahead, so I know he’s a bit faster than me. He takes of in a great splash and I keep him in my sight line.  He’s swimming faster than he’s ever swum and so am I, albeit several seconds behind – still it’s the right conditions for a PB.

 

We all go back to near the hotel and try to get into a couple of pizza/pasta restaurants, but they are all fully booked and we can only queue at a noodle bar.  It’s carbs we need to stock up on so it blandly serves our purpose.  The youngsters are off out looking for a gay club in the city realising that they don’t have any races in the morning.  Older and wiser, the rest of us go to bed, certain that they won’t find much of interest here.

 

First up for me on Saturday is the 400 Freestyle.  I’ve done this event only once in 2013 and I’m nervous about counting the 16 lengths as there are no flip boards.  I can often loose count around about 12 or 14, but make a concerted effort and come in with another PB.  The news on the relay front is not good, however.  One of our team has had to withdraw with a shoulder injury – common with swimmers – and we have to put in a substitute into the 4 x 100m freestyle event.  In all good faith the team captain the info in 90 minutes before the event, but nothing is ever simple and the rules are 90 minutes before the session, i.e. at 7.30 this morning.  There’s no time to relax however as we’ve got Oscar, Lucile and Lizzie to cheer on in the 100m Butterfly.

 

Michael thinks he will be OK to swim his 100m Breastroke in the afternoon, We can see that it’s a struggle and in the end he’s beaten to a bronze medal by a fraction of a second. Next up we have our three new boys in the 50m Freestyle.  They’ve warmed up and we’ve sent them down in good time.  Their heat comes up and we can see three empty starting blocks in the middle of the pool where Out to Swim should be.  The guys are huddled to one side unable to work out which heat is starting and trying to look at the board, which can’t be seen from underneath.  We all start yelling at them as the three whistles have sounded.  Suddenly they get the message and scamper to their blocks and are away.  Whew!

I’m following this with the 200m Backstroke.  This time I only have to count up to 8, but it’s not that easy.  I’m in the habit of counting my strokes to the flag and then 4 more before flipping over to turn.  For some reason I’m too close to the wall at one end and too far away at the other.  By this time I’ve lost count of the lengths and end up doing an extra one.  I can see that all the others have stopped and the scoreboard has an F next to my name indicating that I’ve finished.  I get out at the other end embarrassed and to the announcement that I am indeed disqualified ‘due to a technical infringement.’  You have to finish a Backstroke race on your back and I’ve flipped over.  It’s also my worst time ever, so into the rubbish bin with that race.  Now I’ve got to do 50m Backstroke in the 4 x 50 Medley relay. That only requires me to count to 2 and do one turn.  I think I can manage that. I sort of make a resolution to do an extra session once a fortnight working on Backstroke.  The problem is I just don’t swim it enough. There are loads of disqualifications this weekend, particularly in the Breastroke races. There are also loads of records being broken with award ceremonies going on at every break.  There are European and British records falling and at least one world record that I noticed.

 

The evening session sees JT doing his first ever 50m Butterfly.  He makes a very impressive start underwater and has a very good style but it is our Lizzie who makes the splash in this event and she’s grabbed gold in all three Butterfly events and follows this with a 400 Individual Medley. The last swim of the day is the 4 x 50 Freestyle relay which goes like a flash and I do a PB on my section.

 

Team Captain Tom has had the foresight to book a restaurant tonight so we mull over the day’s events, teasing the new boys about almost missing their race. Even though the clocks go back tonight, I opt for an early night, leaving the youngsters in their quest for nightlife in Sheffield.

 

Eating is always a problem, a compromise between having enough calories in the tank to race but leaving enough time between eating and swimming.  As breakfast doesn’t start at weekends at our hotel, it’s cutting it fine. To make it more complicated they are dividing the warm-ups by age, oldies first.  I make it to the end of this session in the main pool just to practice my backstroke turns and then go off to the diving pool to complete my warm-up.  The 100m Backstroke goes well.  I haven’t done such a good time since last year and I’ve come in 5^th in my age group.

 

The 50m Breastroke heats are next and we’ve got Michael with his dodgy chest swimming next to one of our new boys, except there is an empty starting block next to him.  There’s no sign of our young team mate so we can’t even shout.  Michael swims fast and amazes us all with a PB and a bronze medal.  Several heats later our missing breaststroker returns from coffee ready to swim.  Then there’s a problem with our 4 x 100 medley relay.  Michael’s been put into it, but the start sheets have got the combined age of the team wrong and anyway Michael’s not up to swimming 100 metres of any stroke.  We briefly consider a substitute but have to abandon the race as we’d only get disqualified.

 

Most people go home leaving a small band to wait for trains and to compete in the 200m IM and 800m Freestyle.  It feels a bit lonely but the 200m IM turns out to be pretty exciting.  Oscar slashes more seconds off his previous time and Lizzie wins a silver medal for hers, bringing her medal tally to 3 gold and 2 silver – her best ever Nationals.  I’m bringing up the rear guard, being the only Out to Swimmer in the 800m Freestyle.  I’ve come to like this event and feel less exhausted at the end than doing 100m dashes.  I’ve also done another PB – that’s 4 in total, all in Freestyle.  The message is clear; I’ve got to do some work on the backstroke.  Now it’s just hanging around waiting for our train.  I never get the timing right and it costs a fortune to change your time of travel, so time for a well deserved glass of wine, or two.

 

 

 

 

 

I’m waiting outside Piscina Sant Jordi in Carrer Paris for the Out to Swim Team.  My sightseeing efforts of the morning have exhausted me but I’m somewhat refreshed by a snooze on a shaded park bench just around the corner from the pool. It’s not quite the same team we had in Paris as Michael W is away sailing. David D P M and Martin S (here to support us) are first to arrive followed by a surprise in the form of Anthony Hill, an OTS member I’ve never seen before. He doesn’t swim very often but as he’s on holiday in Spain at the moment, has decided to enter some races with the aim of encouraging himself back into training.   Jerome B and Philippe B arrive soon after and Jerome is very happy to only do the 4x50m Freestyle relay so Anthony can swim freestyle or fly in the Medley.  I make contact with the organisers of the relays teams only to be told that we should have entered on-line. ‘?Didn’t we get an email?’

‘No, I didn’t get any email.’

The pressure is off and suddenly we only have to concentrate on the three events we’ve each entered.  David is anxious to warm up as he’s starting off in event 1, the 200 Individual Medley.  I’d very briefly considered this race, but giving it a trial at the London Fields Lido a couple of times convinced me that 50 M butterfly and 50 M breaststroke are just too gruelling for me.  Just as I’m about to warm-up, the organiser comes to tell us that we can enter relay teams after all.  Panic – as we have to get everyone’s names, entry numbers and year of birth onto a piece of paper. Philippe starts writing it all down and I call out the info from the start sheets.  As David and Anthony are in the pool already I have to search for them and find out what stroke they prefer in the Medley relay.  We get it all down on the paper and I get on with warming up.  The water in this 50m pool is deliciously cool and refreshing compared with the sweaty ambient temperature.  There is no electronic timing here and thus no soft plastic pads at each end of the pool but it seems OK.

There is as usual a woeful lack of women competitors and they are running their races separately.  This means that we get off to a stately start with one heat for the 200 IM for two women from different age groups and very different times.  As is usual, the slow heats begin – there are only 3 men’s heats and David DPM is in the last.  He’s pretty much up there on the first 50 (fly) and also with the backstroke.  He’s loosing ground on the breaststroke and coming second and while we are all cheering him on, Martin says that breaststroke is his weakest stroke and confidently continues that if he’s one or two metres behind he can overtake – and he does – chewing up the leading guy, who is 14 years younger and starting to fade – to win.  It’s a great start for the team who are by now cheering and clapping loudly.  Next up it’s the 50m freestyle splash and dash where Philippe B (Bronze) and Anthony H (Gold) look in very good form.  Philippe also gets a bronze for 100m breaststroke, which I miss as I’m getting ready for my 50m Backstroke.  I’m in the first of two heats but the only one in my age group – still it’s a decent time for a gold medal. Unfortunately I panic at the finish, putting in an extra stroke and bashing my arm on the hard end wall. Everything is going so fast and with only three heats of men’s 100m freestyle (Jerome & David both took gold) the medley relay is upon us and we have to gather our team.  Anthony is around, David has just swum and is getting out of the pool, but where is Philippe?  Nowhere on poolside.  I call out and Martin goes off to search.  Jerome is at the ready to stand in for the 50m breaststroke when Philippe appears.  He’s been out the back collecting medals and showing them off to his mates.  Our combined ages give us a total of over 200 years and we are competing with two teams of 160+ and one of 120+.

As I’m the backstroker I get to start and apparently kept up with the younger swimmers.  As I look back down the pool, Philippe is gaining ground on the breaststroke length.  I wait, watching David establish an impressive lead with butterfly, which Anthony maintains with a great freestyle swim to win the heat and four gold medals for team OTS.

 

We have a fifteen minute break in which I manage to eat a banana and then do a very gentle swim down, just picking up the pace towards the end. First up is my next event the 200m freestyle.  Now, it’s fair to say that this is not my favourite distance, but I’ve persisted, often because it’s the only longer distance option in these events and I’ve put in a slower time (3.14.20 Middlesex 14).  I’m in heat two and lane 1 (not my favourite lane) and am not the slowest on paper but he’s on the other side of the pool and out of my vision.  I decide to take it long and easy to start with and seem to be level with the guy in lane 2.  I’m keeping up OK until the turn when he pulls ahead.  Note to self – get faster on turns. I can still see him ahead and gain some ground, trying not to push it too much, picking up the pace on length 3 to make up for the slow turns. By length 4, I’ve got enough left in the tank to catch him up and beat him by half a stroke, aided by not breathing for the last 8 strokes.  Thanks to a bit of competition from this guy 24 years younger than me, I’ve come in at 3.08.47 and shaved 2 seconds of my BP.  I’m loosing track of who’s won what but Anthony and David are in the heats after me (more gold) and then Anthony and Philippe are doing 50m butterfly (even more medals).  There are only two heats of men’s 100 backstroke and at last a competitor in my age group.  Jerome comes fresh from his 100m breaststroke event to swim the first length of the 4x 50 freestyle relay.  There is one other team in the 200+ age group, one in 160+, one 120+ and one team are 100+.  It’s clear that youth may predominate here.  David catches up swimming second and Philippe holds on to our place.  I’m last and we manage a third place (for more gold medals) beating not only our 200+ rivals but also one of the younger teams.  There are gold medals everywhere and with a couple of silvers and bronzes, it looks as if we’ve pretty much cleaned up here.  After the obligatory team photo for facebook taken by our lovely supporter Martin, we head off with some guys from Amsterdam, Austria and Manchester for a well earned beer.

The sports dinner is not until 22.00 so we are all planning to go and have a snooze.  But by the time I get back to the hotel, sort myself out, there’s only time for 15 minutes before setting out for the restaurant.  We are all starving and turn up on the dot of 10pm to be first in.  It’s a buffet with wine included. We’re sitting with a couple from Helsinki, so the conversation is pretty international.  I overhear that the Baltic countries who are members of NATO, are very nervous about Russia. One of the Fins describes Putin as ‘a Nutter’.

Hmm – interesting times.  Suddenly, time has run out and I’ve got to go.  My flight is at 6.20 tomorrow morning, so I have to miss the free party in favour of four hours sleep.  Just maybe I’ll get back one day to see Gaudi’s cathedral completed.

 

 

Five (Six) Go Swim In Paris

 

We few, we merry band of men are crossing (under) the channel to struggle for glory at Tounoi International de Paris (TIP).  Anyway, that’s how it seems on the Friday when Michael Webster & I arrive to glorious sunshine. Both of us have been to Paris many times, so there’s no need to rush around seeing everything like tourists. We take a leisurely walk from our Hotel at République down to the Sein, saying hello to Notre Dame where we admire her flying buttresses and newly scrubbed up front.  Hotel De Ville is covered in Union Jacks to welcome Queen Elizabeth of the United Kingdom. She’s visiting for the D day anniversary and we just have to stop for a photo.

We head up to the TIP Village in the Marai to register.  There’s a lot of milling around and getting crossed off various lists, finally at the swimming desk where we get our welcome bags full of promotional literature, one condom & lube plus a pink wrist band to prove we’ve paid to get into the party and a blue wrist band for this event.  No one else from Out To Swim is around but Michael spots a woman involved in the Gay Games when he was sailing & I run into Christophe from our Prague relay team.  It’s all a bit of a non event but we buy a beer and stand about, clarify the warm-up and start times for tomorrow, then wander down some side streets in search of some French food.

There’s the usual issue with breakfast, eating early enough before a race so we’re the first customers.  Getting to Piscine George Vallery is easy and quick on the Metro so I’m one of the first to warm up.  There hasn’t been any start sheets sent out so until they are posted up on the wall, we are unaware that Bob McInnes has entered which brings our swimming team up to six.  First up for me is the 800 metres freestyle which, in a 25 metre pool means 32 lengths and a lot of counting.  There are flip charts with the number of lengths remaining and I’m asked if I have someone to flip my chart. No. But the very nice woman who has been flipping for the previous swimmer offers to flip for me. Phew!  I can’t quite believe my time of 14 minutes 07 seconds on the board, but it is correct. I’ve cut my personal best by 16 seconds and I’m thrilled.

The Out To Swim Syncro team arrive and they compete for two hours while we have lunch and cheer them on.  By the end of the day, we’ve all won medals. I’m disqualified in the 100 metres Backstroke for an incorrect turn so I miss out on a second gold but our 4 x 50m Freestyle relay team comes second.  It’s been unclear if relay entries count towards our five individual events.  It turns out, that they don’t so that’s a relief.  We are all exhausted at the end of it, but stay to cheer on the Syncro team in their second session.

Abraham is originally from the Philippines, lived in London for a while and swam with Michael.  He’s come to watch, and we go off in search of dinner, conversation and flirtatious waiters.  The rest of the evening goes quickly and soon it’s time for sleep and recovery.  There’s no rush for breakfast on Sunday as the programme starts with the 1500m and that will take several hours.  In the event we arrive just as the womens’ heat is ending and are able to cheer on David D.  He swam so well yesterday and now he wins the last and fastest heat, turning in a personal best – amazing. Robert Jolly, who swims for Paris Aquatique part of the year and in Australia for the rest, remembers me from Antwerp.  He’s in Michael’s age group and is very fast.  Likewise I’ve got a man from Aqua Homo just turned 60 and he’s winning all the gold medals in my events today.  We are, however content with silver medals as we’ve turned in some very good times.  Another personal best for me in the 200m back stroke and a nifty 100m freestyle.  David D wins a medal in breaststroke (which he doesn’t like) and Jerome does likewise in his Butterfly race, in which he swallows water and just about drowns.  In the lunch break, with the roof of the pool open, the attractive and youthful Paris Aquatique team decorate this lovely pool by sunbathing on floats.  We get to know Robert Jolly, who like his name is a laugh.  There’s some lovely swimming to watch and learn from, tumble-turns to admire and strugglers to applaud for just having a go. Oh, and I should mention the physiques – Pecs, abs, bums all in perfect shape.

Finally, it’s the medley relay which, after a slight reshuffle of personnel, we win gold and Philippe is beside himself with joy.  Champagne is handed out to all, so that Michael & I have to go back to the hotel and sleep it off before dinner and going on to the party, which begins at 10pm.  As we walk from restaurant to party venue, the sky is alive with lightning in the distance.  There’s an almighty queue when we get there, right around the block so we almost give up as we are both unaccustomed to queuing for clubs these days.  It moves quite quickly though and we are given a drink ticket and fight our way into a large sweaty room packed solid with bodies.  The show has been delayed so that we can all get in and when it does start, we can’t see or hear very well as there are too many people and they are talking and shouting above the performers.  It’s all a bit of a disaster and we are about to go when we run into the OTS water polo guys. They’ve brought 4 teams and one of them came fourth.  There’s talk of going to another bar but we’ve had enough for one day and walk back to République via Bastille.  One metro stop away, the heavens open with hail-stones and we take shelter under an awning.  In a gap, we scuttle into the Metro and by the time we get to République, it’s all over and much cooler.

We can hardly move our bodies to get out of bed the next morning and only just make breakfast.  We’ve now got  over an hour to walk through the Ile De la Cité, along the Left Bank, take a very short turn in the Tuileries then walking in glorious sunshine through the centre of the Louvre en route to Brunch in the Marais.  This last event is much more manageable and we sit down under a canopy in a cool courtyard to be served a great meal.  We’re joined by a Parisien squash player so Michael gets an opportunity to practice his French conversation.  There are some basketball players from Berlin who are joined by a team mate, originally from Israel.  He’s a dancer/choreographer and is very entertaining.  His German isn’t that good so we all end up speaking English.  Patrick (one of the swimming officials) joins. He’s Canadian but has worked here as a translator for 40 years.  Two of the Germans have to go and are replaced by another Canadian/Israeli who lives in London.  The conversation is excellent and varied and we’ve forgotten the disaster of a party last night.

Swim CampHigh on Endorphins

It is with some trepidation that I sign up for a weekend swim camp at Cobham Hall, Kent. Organised by my Out to Swim mates Lucille and Lizzie, it promises four swim sessions in over forty-eight hours. I like to swim three times a week leaving at least a day for my body to recover, repair and prepare for the next onslaught.  At sixty-two I’m in the ‘yes’ to experience phase of life with a hefty NO on hand only if absolutely necessary. 

            I resort to Google Maps to look at the area and plan my travel arrangements.  Sole Street seems to be the closest station and I plan to take my bike and cycle in a leisurely fashion up to the hall a few miles away.  Taking a bike requires leaving London before 4pm, so with all the times and changes on a piece of paper, I set off.  What could go wrong?  I alter my plan and get on an earlier train at Peckham Rye which isn’t going to Bromley South so I spend several hours changing trains and heaving the pannier laden bike over bridges to different platforms – still arriving before most of the others.

Cobham Hall is stunning.  Originating in the Elizabethan era, with a Georgian front stuck on, it was the seat of the Darnleys and is now an independent girls’ school started in the 60s.  The leaves are not quite out on the trees as I cycle down the driveway past vast swathes of daffodils.

We are not accommodated in the main building but in Brooke House around the back.  This is a 70s building opened by the then minister for Education and Science, Margaret Thatcher, but it is right next to the 25m swimming pool.

We’re divided into ‘Swim Camp’ and ‘Lessons’ groups, the latter comprised of ‘Ducklings’ (don’t ask) and ‘Development’.  Our first session is 7.30 – 9.00pm with our coach for the weekend, Martin.  The pool is in a sort of glass shed and has an ingenious plastic lining which solves the problem of leaky tiles.  There’s a yellow hosepipe across each end as a marker for turning, but I can’t see well enough to tumble and when I do, in the cloudy water, end up in the next lane or crash into Emily who is leading.  Eventually I get the hang of it and I become less of a hazard. The schedule has been dictated by head coach Michelle and this session includes a hefty kick set. I’m a bit surprised at the end as it hasn’t felt harder than our normal ninety minutes sessions at the Marshal Street pool, but my legs are cramping all over.  I have to sit on the end of the pool for a minute until they stop convulsing so I can stand up and stagger back to Brooke House.  We’ve all brought post swim food and I assemble a tuna salad.  Gillian has brought fantastic scones and Michel, a delicious home made mackerel pâté.  We’ve all been instructed by our leader, Lizzie, to bring cake, but the ‘Ducklings’ have covered up the cake so we won’t eat it until they finish their session at 10pm.  There’s beer and some of us have brought wine so we all have a jolly time, but no midnight feasting as we’re all too tired and go to bed.  I take a couple of Ibuprofen to help with the pain, but the bed is too narrow for a great sleep.

Saturday morning and it’s an hour long session before breakfast.  I stock up with a banana and two cups of tea and am surprised to find the swim completely manageable, no cramps or pain in evidence. We later find out that the plan has been modified.  I may get though this weekend after all. A quick nap follows (I’m old enough to nap when I feel like it) followed by a walk.  Everyone else is doing a circuit training session in the gym lead by Lizzie, but I’m conserving energy for the two hour session in the afternoon.  I’d seen what looked like a grand tree-lined approach on Google Maps and went of to explore, enjoy the daffodils and check out how far to the village pub.

The grand approach hasn’t really happened as the trees are far too young and there’s not really a drive way.  By the time I get back, most people are relaxing and I join some of the women who are watching Alex and Emily playing tennis.

How can they have the energy to do that?  Meals are in the old house and lunch is tasty pasta and baked potatoes.  We’re all carbed up for the afternoon session, but first I have to walk it all off through the gardens and woods of the estate.  The ‘Ducklings’ are first and we swim at 4 – 6pm.  I’ve never done a two hour swim before, but Martin has it all planned and we are surprised how quickly it goes.  Dinner is at 6.30 so it seems that we swim, eat, swim and eat.  I have no inclination to walk or even cycle to the pub in the evening and in fact my head is in such a strange place and my body isn’t hurting so I deduce that I’m high on endorphin. Endorphins are related to Morphine and are produced by the body as a result of strenuous exercise.  They work to counteract pain and also in older people, stimulate mental activity.  That’s why I’m buzzing, I won’t need Ibuprofen tonight.  The remains of the cake, beer and wine are consumed and I leave the hard core to play a game called ‘I’ve never done …’

Sunday morning before brunch is only an hour and I feel my shoulders about to give way on a pull set. I’ve had this body quite a long time and know what it can do, so time to just drop out of a couple of lengths.  It’s been a great weekend and we’ve avoided lane rage in lane 3. Awards are given out at brunch – not quite sure what they are for, but Michael & I get a joint award, we think for being old and getting through it.  Time to dash though as I’ve got a train to catch.

It’s now Tuesday and the endorphins are wearing off – need to get back to the pool.