I was a keen swimmer for many years. Did the club thing. The early morning training for years. It was a form of meditation, a stress reliever in a way. Just the ploughing up and down the pool on my own was wonderful. Well that's the way nostalgia paints it anyhow.
So these past eight years of parenting have forced me to look at swimming somewhat differently. Going swimming has meant military planning and precision. It's meant endless changing of small, wriggly people. It's meant holding them in the pool as they find their balance, working to increase their confidence and offering a constant stream of encouragement.
It's meant being at DEFCOM 4 or something equally high alert to ensure each tadpole or frog isn't off doing something beyond their capability, or being ready to swim to the rescue if they are.
Like much of motherhood the shift in focus from me to "them" has taken a little getting accustomed to. I'd be lying if I didn't say I haven't felt resentful on occasion. Swimming used to be "my" thing. And it isn't anymore.
As most people know we are in the grip of a seemingly endless heatwave here. It's has been mercilessly hot. And today, with Nonna and Poppa back in town and their swimming pool acting as some sort of siren call, I told the offspring they were going swimming.
Within minutes all 3 were dressed and ready to go with a change of clothes by the door.
They marched out obediently clutching their towels and hats.
Today they all jumped and started swimming.
By themselves.
Oh sure, I got called in to play mermaids with one, sharks with another and to rescue Mr Small who has a pathological terror of the pool cleaner when it came near.
But mostly they did their own thing.
And as I watched them I felt a bit sad.
Empty, almost.
I didn't take the chance to swim up and down the pool. Instead I watched them play happily. Totally and utterly absorbed.
Clearly my role has changed.
And so we packed up. They all changed themselves, placed their wet things in the bags. And they ran off happily shouting to cuddle Nonna and Poppa.
Leaving me with the bags.
So I'm not totally redundant it seems.
Excellent.

So yesterday, as I stood in my swimming costume at our local pool with a few surly, bored teenagers and a big beefy man (henceforth to be referred to as BBM) I wondered what the hell I was doing there.
I'm 34. I've had 3 children. I'm overweight.
There are a million reasons why it was sheer insanity to be at the pool yesterday morning.
And in view of the challenge I faced I am sure you will agree with me.
I remember saying to you a while ago one of my goals in 2010 was to fulfill a lifelong dream of becoming a surf lifesaver.
I'd attended a meeting about this in November last year and then pretty much let it slide out of my mind.
So on Friday night at about 6.30 pm there was a phone call saying to be at our local pool first thing Saturday morning for a trial swim.
In order to even start the Bronze Medallion course you must be able to swim 400 metres in under 9 minutes.
So, having set myself this challenge, and even worse, having blogged about it, I had no choice but to be at the pool yesterday morning to at least try the swim.
The surly teenagers and I stood in silence.
BBM started telling us about his gym sessions and his swimming training for this. And then he turned to me, looked me up and down (and can I just say how much I HATE it when people do that) and said in a condescending tone: "Have you done any training?"
I mumbled something incomprehensible and lapsed back in to silence.
As luck would have it BBM and I were the first ones to be selected to do the swim. We were sharing a lane.
He elected to go first and they gave him a 40 second head start.
Then it was my turn.
I won't bore you with the details, only to modestly say I lapped BBM on the third length.
And I finished it in 7.53 seconds.
And BBM?
He didn't fulfill the time requirement and stormed off from the pool. (9 minutes and 40 seconds was HIS time)
And afterwards I started chatting with the bored and surly teenagers, who, like the thousands of teenagers I have taught over the years, were in fact delightful and chatty. Like teens the world over, surly and bored is a great cover for being nervous and shy, which they were.
Like me, they were and are enthusiastic about doing the course.
And me?
Well, my cat got the cream smile was quickly wiped off my face when I blithely told the instructor I was heading home now to lie on the couch for several hours to recover only to be told I now had 2 hours training down at the beach learning how to do tube rescues.
So for now, the half marathon training is on hold. Between 2 beach runs during the week, and a 2 hour training session every Saturday morning for the next few weeks, my plate is full.
But you have to walk before you learn how to run.
Or in BBM's case, swim. :)

I have been too busy digging my swimming pool to join this to the "ironing board" series. But better late than never: a minimalist swimming pool.