Confession: last night I blew off a party (and I don't get invited to many parties these days) because I wanted to get up early this morning and go swimming. I actually can't believe I'm writing that! The way I looked at it was that I have been to many, many parties in my life, but I have never got up early on a cool, April Sunday morning to go and train in an outdoor pool. I'm not the kind of person who can go to a party and not get wasted, and when I drink, I know I won't train the next day. And I really, really wanted to train. It was the right decision even though I'm sure this makes me offically middle-aged. But look at this picture, who could resist jumping into that water?
The St Jakob sport pool (that's the one at the bottom in the picture) opened for the season yesterday. It's a 50 m pool and wow, swimming in a 50 m pool is way more tiring than a 25 m pool. After 600 m I could hardly swim anymore, and I gave in after 800 because my form (such that I have) had completely gone. The water is heated, but the air was cold. Whichever arm was out of the water got a blast of cold air. But the sunlight sparkling on the floor of the pool more than made up for that. I timed myself over 500 m, which is the distance I have to swim in my race, and I am sloooooooooow. I need to swim as much as possible over the next 12 weeks, and with the outdoor pools opening, it's going to be fun.
Then I went out for a slow, easy bike ride this evening. Just to get some miles in my legs. I wore non-cycling clothes to go cycling, because when I wear the whole shorts-cycling top outfit, I feel kind of pressured to look like I know what I'm doing. Spent several kilometres trying to work out which part of my bike was rubbing to make this swoosh, swoosh noise. Finally figured out it was my baggy shorts rubbing my little frame-bag thingy with every turn of the pedals.
Now my daughter is asking for her bedtime story and I'm pretty much ready for bed myself. Goodnight!
