Sinister: when the pool is crowded, breaststroke becomes literal

[Mark Casarotto]

Ken and Madeleine stirred my thoughts earlier (which
is odd, because usually they both stir me somewhere
else entirely), mainly through talking about swimming.
It's something I actually do in this life-on-pause I
seem to have burdened myself with at the moment.

Ken was spot on - thoughts of staying afloat/alive
predominate, with the occasional "ooh, look at her
thighs" and the rather more frequent "bugger, that old
man who's paralysed down one side wants to overtake".
I also am increasing, by one per day, the number of
20-metre lengths I complete. So keeping count is
urgent and key, especially when you get to 55. I also
think a great deal about the correct leg action that
goes with breaststroke, as I'm not very good at it.

Should I suddenly find myself swimming instinctively,
I imagine my thoughts turn to thighs once more.

Ken also described a 28-year-old as a man, which is
perfectly accurate really, but made me start a little.
I'm 28 on Saturday, which is ridiculous. How on earth
did that happen? What's more ridiculous is that I
still view 16-18 as my glory days, which are a full
decade away. Now that can't be right.

So who's coming to Tigermilking then?

Mark xxx

NP: the "c" section of my MP3 collection, including
Call and Response, Can, Chris Leonard and, erm,
Chicago. But mainly Camera Obscura, who make me feel
warm and tingly :-)




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