It was the first of our children's swimming lessons after the Easter break.
I love these Sunday mornings. Will and Evie have their separate lessons – make me nervous about their growing aptitude and the 6am morning training sessions that might entail when they're older – and we all have a play. Good family time.
Anyway, this was the first time I got in the pool after I broke my wrist.
First time proper swimming for about eight weeks.
I only did a couple of laps, I wanted to watch Evie with her new teacher.
But, boom. It felt great.
You lose your feel for the water really quickly, but for whatever reason it was all there.
It reminded me that I ride every day, but I'm not any good.
Swimming is what I was made to do and I do miss it.
Just like I do sometimes miss getting deep into creative development, which I don't really do any more.
(If I was ever any good is a completely different question).
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