Every Swimmer is special, but last Saturday’s was extra-special. Maybe slightly shambolic in parts, but hey, that’s what we do best. It was our usual mixture of die-hards and newbies – all enlivened by the madness of our very own Bromptoning Belgians. Who knows at what point it sounded like a good idea – wake up in Antwerp, catch a bus to London, stay in a youth hostel in St Pancras, get up at stupid o’clock to meet a bunch of strangers in Hampstead Macdonalds, cycle on folding bikes round London, jump in a few cold pools, and then catch the overnight bus back home to Belgium. Of course, in the end, it turned out to be an inspired idea. Mad, certainly, but most definitely inspired. Albert and Dirk – respect.
This month we swam for the first time in the Mixed Ponds, meaning boys and girls could all swim together. Water: not freezing. Air: not freezing. Weird yellow thing in blue thing. Could it be… summer? After the Mixed Ponds we split according to inclination: some to the Men’s Ponds, some to the Ladies, others to Parliament Hill Lido. Predictably some got lost on the way, but we managed to all reconvene on the top of Primrose Hill for the obligatory group shot overlooking the City. Then my favourite part of the run – down the hill, across the canal and through Regent’s Park. – followed by Graham’s nifty little route through Marylebone (although the busy roads are always somehow a shock – who’d have thought, busy roads in central London?) and a quick nip into Hyde Park to meet Rebecca, who had cleverly forsaken running for a bus. Sensible girl. Tauni and David, having secreted their bikes in clever hiding places on Hampstead Heath, were waiting for us when we arrived.
If there’s one thing a triathlete hates more than being overtaken on the swim, it’s being overtaken on the swim by a dog. Beano did us proud at the Serpentine, demonstrating that he has been doing as much swim training as his master, burning off triathletes and then stealing their shoes. That’s my boy!
From the Serps it gets serious, although somehow the slow group managed to overtake the fast group at Battersea Park. Time to speed it up a bit, so we zoomed up the hill to Clapham, Chris and Marcus setting a nice pace, and champion marathon runner Elspeth and Abbie helping keep us on track.
Maybe it’s the run, but Brockwell feels cold. The steam room, jacuzzi and sauna soon take off the chill, as do the delicious breakfasts at the Lido café. Nothing warms you up quite like a black pudding.
This month we swam for the first time in the Mixed Ponds, meaning boys and girls could all swim together. Water: not freezing. Air: not freezing. Weird yellow thing in blue thing. Could it be… summer? After the Mixed Ponds we split according to inclination: some to the Men’s Ponds, some to the Ladies, others to Parliament Hill Lido. Predictably some got lost on the way, but we managed to all reconvene on the top of Primrose Hill for the obligatory group shot overlooking the City. Then my favourite part of the run – down the hill, across the canal and through Regent’s Park. – followed by Graham’s nifty little route through Marylebone (although the busy roads are always somehow a shock – who’d have thought, busy roads in central London?) and a quick nip into Hyde Park to meet Rebecca, who had cleverly forsaken running for a bus. Sensible girl. Tauni and David, having secreted their bikes in clever hiding places on Hampstead Heath, were waiting for us when we arrived.
If there’s one thing a triathlete hates more than being overtaken on the swim, it’s being overtaken on the swim by a dog. Beano did us proud at the Serpentine, demonstrating that he has been doing as much swim training as his master, burning off triathletes and then stealing their shoes. That’s my boy!
From the Serps it gets serious, although somehow the slow group managed to overtake the fast group at Battersea Park. Time to speed it up a bit, so we zoomed up the hill to Clapham, Chris and Marcus setting a nice pace, and champion marathon runner Elspeth and Abbie helping keep us on track.
Maybe it’s the run, but Brockwell feels cold. The steam room, jacuzzi and sauna soon take off the chill, as do the delicious breakfasts at the Lido café. Nothing warms you up quite like a black pudding.
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