And also I can�t get the image from my head of the man with grey hair and too strong blue eyes that spat water out on every stroke he made in the swimming pool. It stopped me in my tracks and he moved away because I stared at him for too long (I was a bit freaked out). What a cheek! Repulsive spitting man edged away from me. The fucker. I should have chased him with my front crawl. Swimming is quite good therapy as long as thoughts of dirty bodies, germs, mouths and stray hairs don�t supersede the joy of being suspended and floating and of underwater handstands.

Um yeah so quite sexed up at the moment which is all kinds of good.