31 July 2003 22:41 [link]
going swimmingly
Sara and I went swimming this evening. There's an "adults only" swim from 8-10pm on a Thursday at Leyton Leisure Lagoon.
I haven't been swimming for ages. Leyton's pool doesn't seem all that inviting - it seems to be small and busy, and looks like it's fairly hot. But, swimming's pretty much the only exercise I enjoy, and there comes a time when you need to bite the bullet.
We had the fun of finding our way in a new building with poor signposts. I managed an accidental (but handy) detour via the toilets on my way to the changing rooms.
It's an odd feeling to stand in a public place wearing only a pair of shorts. Still, no-one screamed or ran away at the sight of my hairy white body, so that much was good.
Fortunately Sara found me in the changing rooms, because the other difficulty I have with swimming is my inability to see without glasses. Normally I'd stick my contact lenses in (I wear goggles anyway) but I lost them a while ago and have rather got out of the habit of wearing them. It was a good job Sara was there, all things considered, because I had to just follow her and have her read signs and so on.
The sensation of getting into a swimming pool is an interesting one, and one that demands a certain amount of analysis. It's not quite like getting into a bath - the temperature is different (although, as I suspected, the pool was rather warm) and there's a feeling of space around you. And a shortage of rubber ducks. There's the oddness of immersion while wearing clothes (albeit not very many clothes). The smell of chlorine intensifies. I'm a fan of the sudden immersion - a hop off the side and, voila, you're in. Reversing down the steps just takes me too long. So, there's a sudden dry-to-wet change, skin tingling in some surprise. There's the inflation of shorts (I've yet to work out a way of jumping in that doesn't trap air in them) which leads to awkward floatation problems. And then there's the initial surface dive, the final head-to-toe soaking (and deflation of the shorts) which always makes me think "dolphin!" for some reason (just like that - "dolphin!" - mental exclamation mark and everything, no idea why).
And then a few lengths. Two, to begin with, since it's been a long time and I'm unfit. Then some meandering about with Sara, challenges of forward rolls and handstands, an attempt at a backflip which goes horribly, horribly wrong. More lengths (three) followed by some confusion as I almost say "hello" to a complete stranger who happened to have blonde hair and thus, at least to my myopic eyes, was indistinguishable from my wife until the very last minute. Sara steals my goggles and does a few lengths. I float. More lengths. Surprise when I discover that the lane has switched from "swim clockwise" to "swim anticlockwise". More surprise when I find that no-one's paying any attention to this anyway.
I think I managed maybe ten lengths, some 250m. Which is pitiful, really, but good for me anyway.
Getting dried, and I re-discovered the art of getting your socks, jeans and boots on without putting your dry foot on the wet floor. It took me a while.
We'll go back, I think. It's something I should get into the habit of doing.
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31 July 2003 12:19 [link]
hygiene
Oh, the pain! The dental hygienist gave no quarter. Quarter would have been asked for, only my mouth was full of scraping instruments at the time. Yes, yes, I should have flossed.
- So, how've you been?
- Not bad. My gums have been better, I think. They haven't been bleeding when I brushed or anything.
- OK, brush like this.
- Argh!
- And rinse and spit.
- So, my gums haven't been bleeding because I've been a wimp?
- Basically, yes.
The ultrasound scraping thing wasn't too bad, although I did have a few near-drowning experiences during it, but the metal scraper thing was, well, difficult. I was good and didn't make any loud noises. In a way, I suppose, I viewed it as just punishment for not taking care of my teeth. Rinsing and spitting, the green water turned reddish with sort of red bits floating in it - sorry, you weren't eating, were you? - which was disconcerting, and then I was left with that super-sensitive feeling in my mouth that comes from outraged nerve endings.
"Come back in six months. We'll send you a reminder."
She did a good job, actually. I just have to keep them in good nick now.
Oh, and a word to the wise: don't try eating salt and vinegar crisps when you're gums are a bit raw. Not good.
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