Come on in the water’s lovely

There’s no ignoring the lockdown love handles any more — outdoor pools are now open and fitness centres are soon to follow. Here’s how to be a post-pandemic gym bunny...

WHEN you can’t go to the gym or pool, they start to look a lot more appealing — as many of us have discovered in recent weeks. While pubs have been open since July 4, those of us keener on breaststroke than boozing have had to wait a little longer to get our chosen fix. But now we have a date — while outdoor pools opened in England this weekend, from July 25 fitness facilities, including indoor pools, will be welcoming us back. Here’s what to expect when doors reopen...

WeLL, this certainly doesn’t feel as high- risk as a supermarket aisle, I think, as I launch into my first 50 metres of frontcrawl in a swimming pool since lockdown began.

The water is cool, a refreshing 18c as the outside temperature mounts towards 30. As I swim, I am aware of just how lucky I am: swimming laps in a pristine pool.

Last Thursday, the government announcement — that outdoor pools in england could open from the weekend, then gyms and indoor pools from July 25 — was warmly welcomed by keen swimmers like me. The longed-for green light came too late for some volunteer-run lidos to take the plunge this weekend, or even, sadly, this summer. But, gradually, cherished community facilities are starting to reopen.

Swimmers in Scotland, Wales and North Ireland hope to be back in the water soon, too.

Swim england, the governing body, has been clear that pools, whether open-air or indoor, will adhere to stringent social distance guidelines for the foreseeable future. Nobody will be allowed in chlorinated pools without booking ahead, for example, and then only for an hour’s slot. Swimmers will be expected to arrive ‘pool ready’, avoiding the changingroom if possible. Use of toilets is discouraged, as is social chatter or play — it’s lane-swimming only.

Within those double-width lanes, bathers will be told to follow the same direction of travel, at a distance of at least two metres from the person in front, avoiding overtaking. Swimmers who start in the wrong lane will be expected to move. Likewise, anyone experiencing a loss of momentum will be expected to budge over rather than interrupt others’ flow. DON’T

be the person who makes a splash for all the wrong reasons seems the guiding principle. Swimmers I know welcome the in- depth directives as clear and sensible.

In the media, much sport has been had at the singling out of butterfly as the ASBO of traditional strokes: too pumped-up and pointlessly aggressive for these sensitive times.

Unfashionable sidestroke, however, is touted as a potential way to protect yourself from incursions into your airspace.

Swimming is Britain’s favourite participation sport, often recommended by doctors as a safe, nonweight bearing way to get fitter.

A fortnight ago, there was some surprise that amid a global health pandemic, pints and pork pies had been sanctioned ahead of the activity so many depend on for their physical and mental wellbeing. Now we can again take to the waters. Leap in, it will be lovely.

As I glide through the gin- clear, filtered aqua of what is my beloved local pool, Charlton Lido in Southeast London, I think of how often in recent months — amid the competing

Swim: Patricia at Charlton Lido by Patricia Nicol stress of work, home-schooling and worries for distant parents — I have dreamed of this sanctuary.

I love the sense of community found at many pools. Charlton Lido is no exception. Usually, I swim here twice a week, whatever the weather.

Other regulars include an accomplished blind swimmer, who judges his laps by counting strokes and a former Channel swimmer. Fellow enthusiasts include agile pensioners and those who have been through the mill — cancer, injury, redundancy, anxiety — and swum through it to the other side, stronger.

I may wince when I see the pictures accompanying this article: like many, I have comfort-eaten through lockdown. But in the water, I feel weightless, supple, sleek. I leave the pool on a swimmer’s high.