Saturday, March 21, 2015

The pool reopens. There's a group of the regulars standing at the door by 7:45 waiting to be let in. Handshakes, nods, a few kisses. When we do enter, the receptionist comes forward & embraces us each in turn. It might be a family reunion.

The changing area has been done up - a bright blue floor. The cubicles are much the same but the showers have been upgraded (although with a weaker jet).

As for the pool, the deep end is shallower & there's a kind of airtex feel to the floor. (Without my glasses more might have changed but I wouldn't know).

It's good to be back in the water & slowly a stroke & breathing rhythm returns. By the end I've done 30 lengths without too much effort. Leaving, there's that unbeatable feeling of having worked over all sorts of muscles other forms of exercise don't reach. The nostrils seem cleansed & the air fresher. & as for an appetite ...

So ... jogging must wait until the Achilles stops hurting (even out for a walk this evening it starts to twinge). Swimming is back on the menu.

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Six Nations ... putting all partisanship aside, it is fair to say that if anyone won today it was rugby itself.

An extraordinary day of play by any standards & I'd assume the most points scored in a single afternoon's worth of games. The second half by Wales was truly heroic suggesting that Gatland might be correct in thinking they could take on any team in the World Cup. Well done to Ireland & it was also good to see a French team beginning to show the kind of flair we know they have in them.

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It seems my crystal ball was not so grubby ... ... resisting the temptation to say "told you so".