Poolside Percy

Water temp: 5 degrees Windy and muddy Saturday morning. Whatever, I've just done another Hampstead Parkrun, I'm as high as a kite and looking for more legal highs. Luckily I've got the ever intrepid and inspirational GB with me. Neither of us are brave enough to dive off the board today. I'm in first today, two swimming hats. I swim quickly towards the perimeter rope as the cold starts to bite in to my flesh. It looks a long way back to the jetty but I remind myself that I swam two lengths of the Lido a couple of weeks ago. I consider how long  you'd survive in this water if your ship had sunk, not long. Before you know it I'm jumping up and down on the jetty with joy, oh joy, oh joy. That's my first ever, ever December Pond swim. Not long 'til January. Merry Xmas.

I'm the gentleman in the rubber cap Water temp: 6 degrees I'm with GB. 'Do you want a free ticket for the Outdoor Swimming Society's winter dip?'. Two lengths of The Lido, three mince pies and three cups of ginger wine later and I feel like a proper Saturday morning hero. Much fun.

On the way back from less than sunny Sussex I decide to make a stop-off at The Oasis, scene of many an epic Sunday afternoon adventure. I manage to blag myself a free swim. I haven't swum in a heated pool since May. The water feels like warm treacle and I make hard work of my 50 lengths, I'm quite out of practice.

Water temp: 6 degrees These Saturday mornings keep on getting better, and better, it's just a little bit colder than the last one. I've just done another 5K at Parkrun, I think I smashed my personal best. I've been focussed on running recently, I've been neglecting my swimming duties, time to sort that out. 'Dive in' shouts a regular looking geezer, 'it's much easier' he continues as he does breathless pull-ups under the springboard, his upper torso red with cold, glistening in the morning sunshine. I do what any normal sane person would do and lower myself in to the water via the steps. The water feels cold and sharp on my skin, no kidding. I head out towards the perimeter rope and quickly head back towards the jetty, the brutal cold biting in to my arms. OK, it's only a quick paddle but I feel alive. I have a pleasant chat with a bloke called John from Cricklewood about our teenage sons and the merits of not eating meat, gentrificati...

Water temp: 8 degrees (I missed 9) Good morning, good morning. It's a beautiful sunny start to the day in north London. I've been through the 'will I, won't I' discussion in my head. I'm here, with my towel, trunks and rubber hat, in I must go, via the steps today. Head up breaststroke to the perimeter rope and back to the jetty. Easy. Brilliant. I shall return on Saturday. There's an illustrated talk on 26 November, 'Swimming on the Heath', by none other than the illustrious Ruth Corney. Details opposite.

Water temp: 10 degrees (did I miss 11?) It's Friday morning folks. After a lot of mind changing I find myself pulling up outside the men's pond on a very cold November morning. This is the time of year I usually hold up my frozen hand and admit I'm not a cold water swimmer and skulk off to The Oasis. A regular looking swimmer greets me with good morning collective madness look in his eye. The changing room air is cloaked in a thick fog of collective madness. Am I the only sane one here? I find myself at the water's edge and begin my descent in to the cold, opaque waters. A regular (I assume everybody is a regular at this time of year) suggests I might try a dive from the springboard. The water feels warmer than the air temperature, so somehow, somewhere in the degrees of madness, diving in seems like a good idea. What a great idea. Before you know it I'm screaming with laughter and having a great old time. I swim out to the furthest perimeter rope feeling tru...

Water temp : 12.1 degrees, apparently Saturday morning dip. It's a beautiful morning, it's always lovely over Hampstead Heath on a Saturday morning. There's quite a few people here, but I'm on my own and need some cold water moral support.I slunk across the jetty, braver souls than I dive in. 'Luxury' shouts one gentleman as he treats himself to the opaque cold water. I slowly lower myself in the water, quickly hoist myself up again, make a few adjustments to my swimming shorts and lower myself in again. The nearest buoy is far enough for me today, the cut on my finger I never knew I had is aching like mad. I consider swimming further but I'm really glad when I'm in gasping reach of the steps. 'You weren't in long' comments a lean, muscled torso. 'I have nothing to prove' I replied. 'Tis true. The Swimmer again next Saturday. Should be good.

Quick Saturday morning dip with GB. I'm feeling very alive after this morning's Parkrun. Not many bodies about this morning, said hello to an enthusiastic chap from The Swimmer who was leaving when we arrived. We both dived of the springboard this morning, followed by lots of laughter, lots of noise, I hope we didn't scare the ducks. Paddled around a bit then did some some exhibition diving. Great to be alive. I hope Palace stuff Arsenal today.

Highgate Ponds Saturday morning swim. I'm a little hungover. I'm quite elated 'cos I just ran a very respectable time at Parkrun. As I arrive on the jetty a happy chap informs that it's great to be alive. I'm in a rush this morning so I waste no time in getting in. I swim round the nearest lifebuoy and swim breaststroke back to the jetty. The water is cold and makes my back tingle and my forearms numb. I promised I'd go and watch my nephew's swimming lesson near Tufnell Park. We had breakfast after at the Workman's Cafe in Archway. It's been a proper North London morning. He's was right you know, it is great to be alive.

Thursday morning pre-work swim. It's a lovely morning. Scores on the doors says 13 out and 11 in. As I arrive the late rising sun is tenderly caressing the northern side of the pool. Looks bloody freezing. No messing about this morning, straight in, well almost. Set myself a target of 5 lengths. I splashed and waded up and down the pool waiting for the endorphins or warmth to arrive. I ended up doing 10 lengths. Happy that I made the effort. Will return soon. I think it's easier to acclimatise when the temperature is going up rather than down.

It was one of those late summer Saturday mornings. I sat in Hampstead thinking I ate too much Mexican food last night, I'm just glad I didn't touch the tequila. You can feel the enthusiasm of the other Swimmers, you hear it from the lips of the ironman priest himself. It's The Swimmer London: The Return, an aquatic odyssey through the sunny morning streets and swimming spots of my beloved London. Three and a half hours, four swims and 13 miles later I run huffing and puffing through the gates of Brockwell Park, chafed but chuffed that I've completed another Swimmer. Nobody does it better Katie at Entirely surrounded by water has written the full match report Short film from @PeterSpringett Watch the original film watch the full 1968 film starring Burt Lancaster for free online Read the short story John Cheever - The Swimmer That could be me diving off the springboard at Highgate Men's Pond. Special mentions to Jonathan and Will, ...

Water temp: 14 degrees How cold is it this morning? According to the Lido thermometer it's nine out and 14 in. I usually get changed poolside but it's so cold that I seek shelter from the wind and huddle in a changing room cubicle. I am reviewing the situation. I spend ages reviewing the situation from the warmth and security of my cubicle. It's a bit late to reconsider, probably too late to reconsider as I lower myself down the ladder in to the comparative warmth of the pool. What happened between the changing the rooms and the pool is anybody's guess, I don't recall making any conscious decisions Whatever, the water is not as cold as I feared, it's actually very nice, not balmy tropical but definitely swimmable. There's not many people around this morning, but people say hello to each other, I guess it's a collective mental state thing, we are driven by unconscious psychic forces. I set myself a target of five lengths, why five? I always do even...

Water temp: 16 degrees 'Can you lend me £50 'til I get my memory back?' quipped a hungover regular. Wednesday morning pre - work swim. The sun sort of poked it's yellow snotty nose out from underneath it's grey cloudy duvet. Eight-thirty in the morning and there's hardly a soul here. I waste lots of time talking codshit to strangers before eventually get my act together and launch myself head-first in to the pool. My shoulder is killing me, I can't for the life of me work out why until I remember yesterday's ladder incident. Undeterred, I swim 16 strong, hero lengths, one for each degree. I spot the famous actor bloke, I wonder if he has a sigil of a golden lion on his crimson trunks.

  GF is this week's guest blogger Be the guest blogger he said, so here I am, on a beautiful Sunday morning in October, on the back of a Vespa, riding Quadrophenia-style through London in the direction of Charlton in search of adventure. We wave at the tourists as we cross Tower Bridge - we live here you know, I feel like shouting. Finally we are in Blackheath, a mile or so more and we turn into the road which is home to Charlton Lido in the few weeks before it closes for refurbishment. I don't do the cold swimming, so it is heated to 25 degrees and, even the posh portaloos can't dampen the holiday feeling of the day. Changing rooms at the side of the pool have a welcome plastic roof through which the unexpected sun warms the concrete floor. Water still seems cold to me as I dangle a toe, but once we dive in and start swimming suddenly all seems right with the world and the 50 metre lengths seem to glide by in the serene atmosphere. We eschew the lanes for a free...

Water temp: still 15ish Saturday morning post-Parkrun swim. I'm very sweaty and my legs are covered in insect bites, a couple of the buggers have drawn blood. Despite all this I'm in a great mood, I think I've just run a personal best. I'm feeling a bit big-headed, so big-headed in fact that I split my swimming cap trying to pull it over my big bonce. I stand for ages at the end of my springboard surveying my deserted kingdom. I can just about hear a barking dog in the distance. Otherwise it's just me and a few coots. I could stand here all day. The water is cool and refreshing, feels colder than yesterday. I don't stay in long, a few minutes at most, I've got loads to do today. I consider the forthcoming autumn and winter. I leave feeling happy and upbeat.

Water temp: 15ish degrees Early Friday late summer afternoon swim. I'm out and about on my Vespa and I've got an empty slot in my imaginary diary. Luckily I have my towel, swimming shorts and swimming hat with me, fancy that. Highgate here I come. Beautiful sunny afternoon, hardly a soul about. I help a fellow swimmer in to his wetsuit. The pond looks stunning in the early afternoon sunshine that's starting to break through the clouds. Nice dive off the springboard. I'm wearing my goggles and I forget to close my eyes when I dive, whoosh, superfreaky. Water is cool and welcoming, still not cold enough to take my breath away. I try and remember when I started swimming regularly in the ponds this year, sometime in April I reckon, it was 8 or 9 degrees, a few good swims to go until then, hopefully.  I swim through nature's debris and complete a couple of The Loneliness of The Long Distance Swimmer style laps. If I haven't said this already, t...

Water temp: 15 degrees Thursday morning post crumpet with Marmite, pre-work swim. The pool is empty, yes empty, devoid of rubber swimming hats and any other lifeforms. Then the sun comes out. I took this picture to prove how wonderful it all is. It takes me a very long time to get my act together and finally be in a position to even think about getting in the water. I dip a tentative foot in the water, it's not that cold, I jump straight in, I hardly gasp. I've set myself a very realistic target of 10 lengths. I quickly get my breathing and my strokes together, folks this really is a lovely swim, I could swim forever. OK, 16 almost forever lengths later and I'm finished. One fat hot shower later and it's almost the perfect start to the day. Shame I have to go to work.

Water temperature: 16 degrees As soon as my face hit the water I knew this was a bad idea. I sort of wade and stumble up and down The Lido, I can hardly swim and my goggles feel like they've been strapped round someone else's rubber clad head. I don't feel good. I had thought about doing a big end of summer mile but that aint happening today. I give up after 10 cruel lengths and lie down on a bench, at least the sun is shining. I bet the tai-chiers haven't got half my problems. I pedal off home thinking of breakfast and rehydration. I reckon I'll be fit enough for another party tonight.

Slightly overcast Saturday morning post-Parkrun swim. I feel great this morning. No boozing for a couple of weeks, I've done some good runs and my leg feels just about normal. Time for the last Saturday morning Mixed Pond swim of the summer. The cool water makes me gasp. I swim powerfully up the pond in an attempt to keep warm. From the bank GB shouts a compliment about my dive, you can shout that as loudly as you like mate. I chat to a genteel lady from Mill Hill about her husband's health, the benefits of your children learning languages and the old London telephone exchange names, ours was Gulliver, I still have the Bakelite phone. If you're too young to understand... I swam about four lengths and clambered out feeling rejuvenated, alive.  I watched and laughed as two wetsuited swimmers abandoned their rubber coating and swam as nature intended. A fantastic start to the day.

Water temp: 15 degrees Night time swim at the Lido. The sun had just about set when I arrived. Scores on the doors said 15 degrees in and 15 out of the water, equilibrium. It got dark very quickly after I arrived and the Lido lights came on. Well, most of them were lit, the deep end was still pretty much in darkness. I've never experienced a floodlit swim at the Lido before. The water felt icy, it took ages for me to catch my breath. Swimmers zigzagged their way down the semi-illuminated pool narrowly avoiding each other. I literally bumped in to a bloke named Frank who I'd met at Ironmonger Row last year. He's swum the channel. We chatted at the shallow end but the water was too cold for chit-chat, my teeth were chattering. I swam a length with him, I don't suppose a length of the Lido is much to a channel swimmer, always leaves me breathless. The Lido looked really beautiful this evening. Two days till the end of the summer season. This is a film about ...

Colin the lock keeper At 7am on an overcast and drizzly Saturday morning I left the warmth, security and relative sanity of my bed to go swimming in The Thames, Shiplake to Henley-Upon-Thames to be precise. I met up with fellow swimmers Liz, Clare and Jonathon on the train at Paddington. We started at Shiplake Lock in Oxfordshire and gently swam our merry way down the river towards Henley, stopping for the occasional breather and chance to gaze in awe at the riverside houses. We ended up completing an epic 3.5K swim. Not much running today. I got to take my Chill Swim (inflatable) dry bag on her maiden voyage. The bag worked a treat, only wish I had bought a slightly larger one or taken slightly less stuff. Great breakfast in Henley-Upon-Thames. We had some time to kill before catching the train home so we visited Dusty Springfield's grave. Here's Dusty singing "The Water is Wide', seems appropriate enough.

Water temp: 16 degrees Overcast and drizzly, perfect morning for an outdoor swim in an unheated pool. As I arrived the sun made the merest hint that it may still be be with us, a sort of polite cough behind a half-closed door. At least the water temperature has remained steady for the last few days, feels bloody cold tho'. I swim a very quick and thoroughly enjoyable 12 twelve lengths. The weather slightly improves, there are even a few patches of blue sky over Kite Hill. I get talking to a man in the shower, he asks me if I want to watch a video... Video of his band, this is. Filmed at The Lido no-less:

Tuesday morning overcast swim. I overhear a cheeky wag telling a fellow regular that white wine gives him an erection. He then turns to me and tells me that he was thrown out of the Lido in 1954, apparently the lifeguard caught him pissing in the pool: Him: "But everyone pisses in the pool." Lifeguard: "Not off the diving board." It's not a glorious morning. The water temperature has drooped three degrees since Sunday. Undeterred, I stiffen my resolve and hurl myself in to the water with a semi-decent dive. I swim 16 lovely Lido lengths followed by one very, very hot shower. It's all gone a bit autumnal, I've not given up on summer yet tho', I shall return, soon.

Water temp: 19 degrees Sunday morning swim. The weather can't really make up it's mind this morning. No clues given. I bump in to an old friend, she's making her annual trip to The Lido, she's leaving it a bit late, she couldn't make up her mind whether to go for 40 degree vikram yoga or take her chances with the steely cold of The Lido."I must be mad" she exclaims before heading off on her aquatic odyssey. I power up and down occasionally enjoying the heat from the sun on my back as it darts in and out between the clouds. I swim 20 lengths and decide that's enough. The Lido summer season ends in a couple of weeks, my season ticket expires in mid November. As I'm getting changed the heavens open. I seek refuge from the deluge in the cafe. I bump in to my old friend again at the exit, despite a scalding shower her lips are tinged with blue and she's still shivering. I offer her my coat and walk her to the bus stop.

Saturday morning. Last night I went out for a quiet drink to celebrate my little sister's birthday. I've had five hours sleep, no dinner or breakfast and I'm still very pissed. I also thought it would be a good idea to do Parkrun again this morning, at least I've sweated out some of the booze. I don't smell too good. The Mixed Pond beckons. A swim can usually cure the most evil of hangovers. The rejuvenating waters have no affect, I can barely lift an arm to swim front-crawl. I swim breaststroke and enjoy the gentle sounds my fingers make as they cut through the water, it distracts me from the sound of last night's ale sloshing round in my head. I swim a couple of lengths, I couldn't possibly manage another one, I wish I could have said that last night. One of the lifeguards takes pity on my wretchedness and offers me a cup of coffee. I don't drink coffee any more but gratefully accept a cup, I can't tell if it makes any difference.

Water temp: 20 degrees (so the sign says) Friday early evening swim. I've caught the very last rays of today's sun as it slips slowly and inevitably behind the trees. I lie on my back in the water and stare up at the clouds. I can't do this for long as I start to drift and the sensations I get from staring at the clouds are far too intense. Who needs drugs? I swim a couple of laps and leave feeling refreshed and glad I've made the effort. I head off to see my little sister for a quiet birthday drink...

Water temp: 21 degrees Wow, what a misty morning. Spiders webs everywhere. Cycling up to Highgate reveals blue skies and sunshine, a sneak preview of what lies ahead. I roll down Highgate West Hill and plunge once more in to the mistiness. Lido looks amazing with the mist rolling across the water. I swim 16 lengths before heading off to work. Photo: Laura Nolte

Parliament Hill Fields Lido Sunday morning, far too early. Despite my gammy leg, I'm doing the Hampstead Heath Pondathon again today. I'm feeling a little bit nervous and a bit intimidated by all the fit young people around me. No, sod it, I'm doing this for me, doing this for fun. Before I know it I'm in the water and 3-2-1 we're off... The Lido is lean and mean and should be the easiest swim, after all I'm playing at home. However, I'm struggling, I feel like chucking in the towel at length two. I'm spurred on by the rousing cheers of the home fans GF and DW. At least I'm not last out of the pool, and by no means least. The run to the Men's Pond is like an Alan Sillitoe novel , long and lonely. I've not been overtaken yet. The Men's Pond greets me like an old friend. I manage to overtake two other swimmers in what seems like a never ending lap, good job I've been doing lots of swimming this week. Me in the Ladies Po...

Mixed Pond It's a lovely sunny morning in London Town. I've decided to go for a jog. It's exactly four weeks since I tore a calf muscle. I manage a very tender 5K without too much aggravation. So, I'd better get down the mixed pond to do a bit of stretching a cool off the old leg. The water is much cooler that The Lido or the Men's Pond, I guess it doesn't get that much sun. Two swans fly in to the pond right over my heard and land spectacularly a few yards away. I swim a few  casual lengths. It really is a beautiful morning. Bumped in to some parents from DW's old school in the pond and a few old faces on the way home.  I whistle Boy About Town for the rest of the day.

Water temp: 22 degrees Excellent, the water temperature is rising, hold on summer, hold on. It's a beautiful late Friday afternoon. I've till got one eye and one leg on Pondathon. There's a big board near the cashiers office with loads of people's names on it, mine's on there too. I swim lots and lots of lengths pretending that I haven't got a gammy leg and I'm in serious training for Sunday.There again, why take it seriously? It's a fun event. I pedal round my sister's for dinner. My Mum's there too, I haven't seen her for ages, she looks really well.

Water temp: 20 degrees Late afternoon swim in beautiful sunshine. Long chat beforehand with Dan the lifeguard. Beautiful swim. Swam two big energetic not-stop exotic laps. Goggles are still a bit freaky, reminds me of the first time I ever jumped in the men's pond, might share that another time. Home for green bean curry. I picked the beans from my garden, very nice. Even bought some elasticated laces on the way home in case the silly person inside me decides to run on Sunday. I feel free cycling home in t-shirt and shorts, long live the summer.

Late afternoon swim. I've got new goggles. I mean business. Feels a bit strange doing big lengths whilst the rest of the people round the pool are chilling out or having fun. Big powerful 27 lengths. My new goggles with the tinted blue lenses really suck the colour out of life, never mind, at least they don't leak. Really, really enjoyed my swim today.

Water temp: 20 degrees Back to work today. Popped down to Covent Garden to get some new goggles. Now, I don't like wearing goggles in the ponds cos it's a bit murky and a bit scary, you don't really want to see what you're doing. However, new goggles are new goggles and must be tried out immediately and I haven't really given up hope of doing Pondathon on Sunday. I just caught the very last rays of the setting sun as I arrived and it felt really good to be here. The water is warm but still refreshing. The goggles are great but a bit freaky. I swim a couple of lengths and a massive lap just in case I end up doing Pondathon on Sunday, three weeks in Spain has left me feeling a bit unfit and blown out. Tinted blue goggles work really well in the chlorinated brick work of the Lido but suck out all the natural colour of The Men's Pond. Bad news, summer is draining away, the pond now close at 7pm, must make the most of my time.

I'm back from Spanish holidays. What better way to settle back in to the British summer than a trip to The Lido. Arrived at 4pm and soaked up some sun for an hour. Swam a very enjoyable 28 lengths. It feels great to be back. I even consider doing Pondathon on Sunday despite my dodgy leg. My old mate Ann is a physio, she's gonna give me her diagnosis later this week. Went to The George on Haverstock Hill with J to watch Man U Chelsea. How can you charge £5.40 a pint. I used to like The George, well poncey these days.

OK, this place doesn't have the setting of La Piscina Corduentes but it does have that touch of urban council estate chic. You can just about see the Castilla Molina if you stand at the shallow end. Post lunch swim, managed a few bloated lengths in the setting sun. Will hopefully return one day for a proper swim. I'm going back to London tomorrow. 

An afternoon adventure with DW and Sanchita, a 20KM drive through spectacular mountain pine forests and valleys. DW had his rites of passage moment diving off this bridge in to the clearest, crispest mountain river. I swam upstream. Last gasp Super Sanchita jumped off the big bridge. Great afternoon had by all. If you're anywhere near Molina please check this place out, you won't be disappointed. DW topped off his day by proving he is taller than his Dad.

I've met up with an old amigo deep in the heart of Spain, Don Quixote country. Hot and dry. According to local legend there's a swimming pool a few villages away. As far as I can make out from the Spanish banter in the bar, the water is cold, but that could be the beer. Uno mas por favor. The next morning is adorned with a beautiful blue, cloudless sky. This day could only be improved with an adventure and a swim. Mapless and clueless but with the aid of my faithful companion Sanchita, this errant swimmer sets out on his quest. After many twists and turns and field upon field of sunflowers, we come to the historic village of Corduentes. The village is resplendent with ancient hombres passing the time of day. I asked one of the Spanish gentlemen the direction to La Piscina, he points vaguely with his stick in the direction of the only road out of town. Eventually we spy a concrete high diving board towering over yet another field of sunflowers. We have arrived at La Piscina Co...

I am destiny's child today as it's time to hit the lake. I'm disappointed that it's forbidden to swim the length and breadth of the lake but I make do with an area roped off for public swimming. The water is as clear as the mountain water from which it is fed and it's wonderfully warm. Lots and lots of fish join me for my swim. There's a bar further up the lake where you can pay to swim and listen to the once groovy sounds of Manu Chau. Boy, boy I'm such a snob sometimes. I feel totally peopled out and return to our mountain top retreat. It's my turn to cook tonight so I buy a couple of kilos of salmon and some tasty looking prawns.

DW and I are now with extended family. We've rented a massive house halfway up a mountain. To top it all the house has a pool with a view, not a huge pool, but a pool is a pool and oh what a view. Happiness and joy. There's a massive boulder just above the pool, it reminds me of the film ' Sexy Beast ', my belly reminds me of Ray Winstone. I consider myself to be a very lucky person. At the foot of the mountain is the Lake of Banyoles , apparently we can swim there. I gaze down upon my destiny, I feel like pre-space age man looking up at the moon in reverse. I'm Ned Merril (The Swimmer) gazing upon the Lucinda River. Hopefully I will swim there tomorrow...

I'm in the South of France. I've not been in this part of the world for years and years, not since the fresh-faced days of rucksacks and Interail cards with Emily. So, first leg of my European tour starts here... Mango's My poor leg feels stiff after a couple of days of recuperation, but I'm mobile enough to play frisbee on the beach. Wahay, I'm playing Frisbee on the beach in the South of France with my son and some friends, life is good. I've had a great pre-lunch swim in the Med, Suzanne our hostess has taken me to a sea-front  gaff called Mango's, I wonder who Mango is or hope that his food is better than his grammar. Mango's is frequented by white middle-class dudes and dudettes pretending to be a bit crusty Europeans. They gorge themselves on overpriced tapas and tap their toes to the delights of Manu Chau. Who am I to criticise as I gorge myself on overpriced tapas. I never did get the Manu Chau thing tho', I'm sure he was ...