NORTHERN PLANNER

I was a competitive swimmer for 7 hard years. I started at 8 and foolishly decided as a teenager I'd had enough, only to regret it many years later. I never stopped training and there was a wonderful period at University when I raced again, and then it was fun to rediscover what my body was built to do when I dived  back into competitive level training in my early 30s. But the re-entry was also bitter sweet. There's a truth to top tier sport that the athlete's may learn to love their sport after their prime has gone, but it's ultimately frustrating when your body won't do what you believe it should.

Your mediocre may be war speed next to others, but it' still mediocre to you.

But some of my best memories from childhood came from the poolside though, permeated with the indelible whiff of chlorine. It's amazing how those times affect my life today. It takes years for the chlorine to finally leave your skin, but I don't think it ever released its grip on the DNA.

There are lots of signs one is a former swimmer:

You're the most flexible person in a yoga class, your upward dog is the most streamlined, even if you now weigh 17 stone

You instantly recognise the bleached hair of someone who still trains every day

Hard word and dealing with difficult moments are second nature, nothing will make you suffer like 10 x 200 meters butterfly at full gas

You crave the feeling of flow, losing yourself in a task – you didn't realise how great it was when you got it everyday

You have to stop yourself buying swimming costumes a size too small (it reduces the drag against the water)

You're amazing at shaving the body even if you're male. When I started cycling properly and shaving my legs, not only did it not feel weird, I was about to start on the chest until I realised what I was doing

You refuse to buy baggy swim wear, you can't stand how it flaps in the water (your family is always ashamed of you on beach holidays)

You hate wearing shoes

You don't care about going barefoot in a locker room, or indeed anywhere

You have a lingering shoulder injury, or you we're a breastroker, it's probably the knee

You stretch your shoulder in the morning even though they're not stiff anymore

You find it hard every day not to do some sport that makes you properly suffer

You're kids are not allowed anymore swimwear that isn't acceptably branded

You're the best person you know at getting up at silly o clock

You know the exact degree of seperation between you and any Olympic swimmer

You hate all cultural entertainment with competitive swimmers in in, only Muriel's Wedding escapes this, they get the swimming wrong here too though

At least half of your friends from childhood do mental physical sports, ultra marathons, iron man etc

You don't remember most of your training sessions, but you remember every second of the sessions that made you cry, and the other where you reached some sort if state of grace and everything just worked

You secretly, simultaneously  hope and dread your children will become racing swimmers. You know the intense joy and pain it will bring (and the fact you'll have to get up at 5am to take them morning training)

If you haven't quit yet, here is some advice:

Regular people think excessive nudity in the changing rooms is a bit weird

Some day, you 'll have to take the amount of food you're used to eating and eat and at least half it, this will not be easy. 4,000 calories a day is not remotely normal

One day you'll find your shoulders don't hurt – it will be like when you switch off a fridge and you realise it was buzzing. You didn't notice the pain until it stopped

You will never ever have the chance to see this group of your best friends every day, even twice a day, or go on so many trips away with this many friends. Appreciate it

You don't realise the deep joy in doing something sublimely well until you don't do it anymore. Enjoy every stroke while you can

Nothing will be as hard as those sessions that make you want to throw up. Life gets tough when you get older, but you'll be ready