Thursday 18 August 2016

The Iron lady

The alarm sounds and I rise, sleepy but none the less awake. A quick belch, fart and scratch of the nether regions and Im ready for coffee.
Todays the day of my coached swim session. Im suddenly wide awake at the thought. Should be fun though, I know my coach and know we can laugh while still learning, should be fab.
Coffee drunk I head off to collect her.
She's at the door as I arrive. Blimey, super keen and ready I thought! I should have realised, after getting a text from her 2 minutes before asking if I was on my way, seriously super keen (strict)!
She gets in the car, and suddenly how hard this session is going to be comes into focus.......my coach has her handbag with her!!!!! HER FLIPPING HANDBAG!
Coaches don't carry handbags do they? Mine does. Im really scared now, can I live up to the expectations of a handbag carrying coach, of course I can't, not a chance. She is at least smiling, or is it a laugh, at what she has in store, I will find out soon enough.
Even though I tried driving as slowly as I could to the pool we still arrive much much quicker than I would have liked. I park up and get out.
The passenger door slams shut.
Are you taking the handbag inside? I ask.
Erm....yes, why wouldn't I. comes the reply.
Cos your coaching a swim.
She finds it quite amusing that I should be shocked at someone bringing a handbag to a swim session. She's smiles back at me, or it could be wind, or, more likely, a grimace at the pain she is about to inflict on her lowly subject.
I look to see if I can see the big blue rosette with "Vote Tory" on it, there isn't one, phew.
'What do you want from this session'? She shouts, sorry, asks.
To get out alive I think to myself.
'To improve my breathing technique really, and be a better swimmer please Miss'. I say, whilst backing away touching my forelocks.

 I waft my membership card at the minion on the desk, tell him that Mrs T (not her real name) is here to do a bit of coaching and do I need to pay for her.
No, just make sure she sits on the seating, he replies.
Really, I have to TELL her to do something. I look round into the the steely eyes of my coach.
'He said, him over there...........erm, the chap behind the desk said you have to sit in the seating area'. I duck instinctively for fear of the repercussions.
Tut, comes the reply.
I fear for the desk chaps safety if she ever sees him alone in the street, poor sod.
Well, to cut a short story long the coached swimming session didn't actually happen. Turns out that at Hadleigh swimming pool brining in your own coach/helper/Prime Minister, is frowned upon.
No coaching allowed unless its with our coaches..........Really!
I managed half a length. Membership now cancelled!