So: In the beginning Hackney Council recreated the Lido. And the pool took form and filled with water, and darkness once on the face of the deep hole there for no good reason took on light and colour. And the spirit of the big swim moved on the face of the waters.

1000 metres today. Yesterday, 1500, and Monday before that 2000. The week’s running out of steam, the days getting warmer. We’re in early Spring even if the skies are grey. The novel comes off the press at the end of the week. My heart has been thumping during my swims, oil clogged arteries, thick sludgy truck oil that makes London the joy it is at times. Sometimes you cruise the pool sometimes you don’t. I need to drop something from my diet. Roll with the punches. There’s bound to be someone sounding off on freestyle techniques to help me get my breathing right coming out of my tumble turns.

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