My 50th-birthday swimming challenge: week one

Week one: No going back

There’s a moment before you start a long swim – whether it is a long training session or an endurance event – where you pause and think: “This is it – the second I pull my goggles down over my eyes and dive into the water, that’s it, for the next few hours. I’m in for the long haul.” You prevaricate madly, fiddling with goggles, staring down the water, having just another sip of your drink – anything to put off the inevitable. You know that after that split-second there is no going back.

That’s how I felt on Sunday 1 March. Pussyfooting about, teetering on the edge of embracing the commitment to 50 straight days of swimming. Knowing that if I set off to meet my friend Katie as agreed on Sunday morning to do my first swim of 50 that I had to see it through. I confess to being both nervous and excited.

Sunday 1 March, Forest Hill pool, 25m

I had arranged to kick off my first swim with my Channel-swimming buddy Katie Hope in her local pool in Forest Hill. She doesn’t swim there, eschewing it for the lure of the cold and spartan 50m pool at Crystal Palace. However Crystal Palace was closed for an event, so bright and early on a sunny Sunday morning we met at the local leisure centre. The pool was as empty as you’d expect on a Sunday morning and it was lovely sharing my first swim with an old swimming friend. We swam a bit and chatted a bit and really enjoyed the moment. Katie was surprised that the pool was actually more pleasant than she had anticipated. I felt proud to have brought her and Forest Hill pool together.

Monday 2 March, Kentish Town leisure centre, 30m

I swam a perfunctory early morning mile before dashing off to work. Kentish town has the poshest changing rooms I’ve ever seen in a public pool. Like a hotel spa! And as I left the pool it suddenly dawned on me that pre-work swims have a completely different character than post-work ones. They are mostly not as joyful as evening swims. They are swimming for fitness, not swimming for the love of it. More on that later, I think.

Tuesday 3 March, York Hall leisure centre, Bethnal Green, 33m

I decided that I really wanted to swim at York Hall on what they called “women and girls night”. I wasn’t disappointed. I turned up and was confronted with a huge hall with high ceilings and a deep pool that was long too, at 33m. Intimidating in many senses, and complete with a diving board that looked like something from War of the Worlds, now unused – a victim of health and safety concerns. Amazingly the pool was thriving and busy – a third of it taken by a crazy aqua jogging class, a third for swimming lessons, and a third for lane swimming. And there were about 50 women and girls using the pool and only perhaps three in conventional swimming costumes. Pretty much everyone else wore modesty outfits with leggings or T-shirts, or specially made swimming gear. It was so wonderful to see and share a space with people who you don’t usually encounter at a pool – and to see the pool used so thoroughly. Draughty and intimidating and echoey and imposing – yet thriving.

Wednesday 4 March, Finchley Lido Leisure Centre, 25m

An hour’s fraught driving in rush hour traffic after work saw me arriving at Finchley Lido Leisure Centre in dire need of a swim. Chalky, an old friend from a triathlon club I used to swim with, had invited me to his local pool to swim with him and his son. By the time Wednesday had come around our little swim had turned into the most amazing event. The local swimming club, Barnet SC, turned up in force – with around 20 swimmers of all ages and abilities ready to accompany me in my mile. One of their swimmers had never even swum a mile before. We were started off the blocks by Jack, the club’s 95-year-old official. I shared a lane with some young girls and boys from the club who were much faster than me. They passed me with a cheery and polite thank you as I hung back to let them lap me. Somehow the assembled crew also included three channel swimmers I know from way back. We were a large straggling pod of dolphins, all completely different and of different abilities, but all swimming towards a common goal – and it was blooming marvellous. I had turned up at the pool apprehensive about being exposed as a slow old woman basking in some former glory. I left cheered, encouraged, supported and enthused. I drove back to central London grinning from ear to ear. Barnet swimming club rocked.

Thursday 5 March, Seymour Leisure Centre, 30m

I have no idea how, living in central London, I have never heard of this pool. A grand Edwardian building, with a kind of subterranean vibe – vaulted ceilings and sodium lights and the shallowest of shallow ends and beautiful tiling, just moments from Baker Street. I anonymously slipped into the water for a late evening swim, and swam a quiet mile and a bit. Peaceful and tranquil and empty – I really enjoyed this slightly otherworldly swim after the hurly burly of the previous evening.

Friday 6 March, Kings Hall leisure centre, Hackney, 25m

I had scheduled Kings Hall in Hackney for a swim on my day off – a real trip down memory lane to the pool where I first taught myself to swim more than two lengths at a time. The place I went to my first masters swimming club. It was supposed to be poignant. But inner London pools are busy and underfunded – which generally means slightly unloved and often quite dirty. The changing rooms were horrible and I thought my bubble had been burst, until I plopped into the water in the pool and all the memories came flooding back. The Victorian tiles and wrought iron metal work balconies. And more than that, a Friday lunchtime mish-mash of non-swimmers, unruly teenagers being taught to swim, moms with kids, OAPs and lap swimmers warmed my heart. This is what I wanted. To hell with the dubious smell of the changing rooms.

Saturday 7 March, Charlton Lido, 50m

Oh the joy of swimming outdoors on a beautiful blue-skied day. I felt like I was on holiday. Twinkly blue water, smiling swimmers, a slight breeze, outdoor showers and spartan concrete pool surrounds, with a faint whiff of the old Soviet Union. And on my way to swimming my seventh mile I also bumped into four different people I know from other swimming haunts. They all stopped to chat and offer me encouragement. I got out of the pool on a complete high.

When I dreamed up this project I had imagined that it would be hard work. But I never figured how many people would embrace the idea of swimming with me or cheering me on. From fleeting swims with friends to a mass swim with a swimming club full of people who had never heard of me but came to support me, this week I have been completely touched. Brockwell lido swimmers tweeted that if I told them when I was swimming at Brockwell lido then they would bring cake and swim with me. Hampton lido were keen for me to go and swim at their pool. I feel like the whole swimming community is helping me celebrate. And that feels wonderful and crazy.

As to the swimming? I don’t feel fitter yet – I hope that will come. I feel frazzled with the organisation of fitting everything in, just managing to keep on top of it. But I definitely don’t feel bored at all. Swimming in a different pool every day certainly helps, and being swept along by a tide of goodwill is more than anyone could want at 50. I can’t wait for week two.

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