Poolside Percy

Water temp: 21 degrees Saturday morning finds me at the men's pond. No surprise there then. There's hardly anybody here. Maybe the warning signs for blue algae are doing their job. I'm wearing my new parkrun tshirt, I got it for getting out of bed 50 times on Saturday morning, that's more impressive than the running I reckon. Quick dip today as it I'm having a family bbq at my place for my son, he's 15, he's adorable. No sign of any algae.

Water temp: 20 degrees Late afternoon swim. OK, so it's a bit overcast but the water is lovely and The Lido is virtually empty. I spend ages sitting on my second favourite bench mesmerised by the steeley blue water. A group of lads are being really annoying, they're not really doing anything wrong, they're just annoying. The lifeguards must have had enough as a lone policewoman turns up and asks them to leave. Presumably there is a Hampstead Heath by-law against being plain old annoying. Now the lads have left I think about swimming and gaze some more at the water. Eventually I find myself diving in to the pool all hatted and goggled, I don't even remember getting changed. The water feels cool today. I set my mind on swimming 28 lengths, a mile, but after three lengths I find myself bored and distracted. I quickly remind myself that I have a full-on triathlon in 11 days and swim strongly and resolutely.

It's Sunday morning and I'm in Reading with Lola. We're on our bikes and we've got a couple of hours to spare before we have to be at our mate's for Sunday lunch. Now, I'm not the kind of person who sits in a coffee shop staring at my MacBook or reading the Sunday papers. Find me a river. We head in the direction of Pangbourne. Just outside of Tilehurst the observant GF spots a sign for the Thames path which we duly follow. OK, it didn't really happen like that, I sped off up a hill and dutifully waited at the top. GF eventually caught up with me, panting and screaming that I'd missed the sign. Early morning bad moods and tiredness soon evaporate as we find ourselves by The Thames. It really is pretty here and the sun is shining. Disaster, GF has forgotten her bikini. Luckily, it's quite deserted so without hesitation we go for a mid-summer skinny dip. The water is cool and silky against our skin. There's not a swan or a boat in sight. ...

This morning I appear a sad and pathetic creature. My head hurts, my lungs are raw and I just did my slowest ever time at Parkrun. Inevitably, I stink of last night's booze. I'm with GB who is refusing to sympathise. He's conveniently forgotten what a state he was in on new year's day. He throws himself gleefully in to the water as I gingerly dip my toes in, I reckon the shock could kill me. I'm in, the water feels great but my head disagrees, I try getting hysterical, it doesn't help, getting hysterical never helps. We swim a couple of lengths and laugh about England's exit from the World Cup. We've been rubbish for years, someone has been selling false expectation at inflated prices, they must have made a fortune. Didn't anybody watch the qualifiers? GB leaves me mumbling to myself on a bench as I ponder whether fried bread could possibly help me in my predicament. I get text from a friend, BBQ this afternoon, better sort myself out.

Very tidy after work swim. Twenty eight lengths in a virtually deserted pool.

Water temp: 21 degrees Tuesday afternoon post work dip. I'm feeling a little shattered and still a bit euphoric after the weekend's madness of The Cambridge Swimmer and London to Brighton. I'm seeking mental and physical rejuvenation in the best way that I know. The water is as green as verdant mushy peas in to which I happily throw myself...