I have swam, and thus I feel immensely better.

Well, I have done in all four limbs, my clavicles have opened like a set of double doors, one of my scapulae is creeping around to the front, every muscle that I have is shivery, sensitive jelly, and my skin feels like it’s vibrating. I have worked hard. My thighs and back are warm. My shoulders feel as if a leopard is curled up around them, and purring.

I have a smile that’s bordering on inappropriate.

Today was only a kilometre, but it was a “quick” one – Broken up into twenty 50m sprints, each one coming in at around 30-40 seconds. I swam with a bloke who was training for an ironman triathlon (His goal being 100 lengths a session, at a 60/hr rate) and who’d asked me for breathing advice since he kept inhaling water. Anyway, I pushed the sprints until I’d completely ruined my everything and needed to be pool-winched back out of the water (I think I am getting better at accepting help).

I staggered to the changing room (much swearing), showered (blessed relief), got dressed (much swearing), and started heading home. Halfway across the car park on the way home, I crunched face-first onto the tarmac.

Someone came over; “Are you all right? Want a lift?” I squinted up, and started making my excuses – Pushing ten at night, empty car park, transit van, acutely aware of the half-pint of morphine burning a hole in my bag.

“Knackered from the swim?” he asked, and sense was made – It was the bloke I’d been swimming with. I relaxed, let him help me into the van, and then he said the best thing anyone could say;

“I didn’t want to interfere, since it seems far too personal to ask, and it might have just been how you managed, but I thought after you didn’t move for a bit that I’d be better off asking if you were all right. The worst that could happen was that you’d think I was stupid for asking.”

I reassured him that I was glad to accept help when it was really helpful, and we talked sports and recovery and training strategy until he left me at the garden gate.

There is something really refreshing about people treating me as myself, since most people now don’t – They either see “pointless cripple that needs pity” or “bizarre greek tragedy, godlike in water, corpselike out of it. But he was just being normal, looking me in the eye and talking like you would to a normal person. Just what I needed.


2 thoughts on “Cavemanatee

  1. Thank goodness he was there to lend a friendly helping hand. Your stories of car park collapses are starting to terrify me!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s