Its a love hate relationship.

Since commencing my training, my love for swimming has returned, and I now strive to swim a little more everytime I get in the pool. As part of having joined the Tri Club I now participate in their swim squad once a week on a thursday night. Week 1 - 4 weeks ago, I completed 2500m and felt so tired on getting out that I don't think I could string two sentences together. My body ached all over from the last cell of keratin in my hair to the ends of my not so delicate toes. Susan and I walked out of the pool wondering what in god's name had we gotten ourselves into. On our way home Susan gave me a call on the mobile just so I could keep her awake for the drive home. I was so proud of what she had accomplished and I am sure she was equally proud of me.

As week 2 drew closer I started to get nervous, simply because I knew what lay ahead and I know me - I am not happy with staying the same. 3500m and 90 minutes later I surfaced from the pool with a grin and the need for some much needed rest and Ibuprofen. I was so proud of myself, I had come so far when at times I thought it would never be possible again. I really missed the squad life even though as a child I immensely detested being told when to wake up, how much I had to swim, what comps to go in...yadda yadda yadda. Now I'm the boss of me and I am definately tougher on me than they ever were. I won't allow myself to give up.

3800m in week 3 and I was feeling great. The variety of the training sessions made it almost feel effortless....NOT, it was still hard but atleast it beats swimming up and down over and over again aimlessly. I think the coach can tell how excited I am about getting better every week as I am constantly asking how much I have done halfway through the session so I can beat my score before time is up. "Are we there yet, are we there yet". I so badly want every week to be an improvement on the last and so far so good.

Last week I felt it. Although I made it to 4km, every lap was so painfully slow and torturous. I had the runs all day and my stomach was cramping what felt like every 5 minutes. I really shouldn't have gone, I should have stayed at home and rested but there goes that stubborness and persistant streak again. I was getting motion sick in the water and I felt quite spewy. If I could get through this lesson without letting things come up, I think I could just about tackle anything the triathlon had to offer. As it was, I survived but when I got home all I could do was have a shower, say goodnight to the children and Stephen and curl up in the foetal position in bed and go to sleep. When I woke up in the morning I felt no side effects of the previous nights efforts. I felt great.

I was trying harder and harder every week and my fast recovery was the proof of my efforts.