Waterproof headphones for swimming have their limitations.
I remember thinking that I could make use of all those lengths in the swimming pool finally to listen to and get to know Beethoven’s Late Quartets. Pretentious? Moi? I worked on the assumption that as I was ‘trapped’ in the water I could use the enforced concentration to break the barrier of my earlier dismissal of the music and find a new appreciation.
In theory that was a good plan. I downloaded some of the quartets to the memory of the headphones and prepared myself to be amazed. And it didn’t work.
It wasn’t my prejudices getting in the way, it wasn’t that I didn’t listen, it was more the actual mechanics of the production of the music.
Swimming is loud. To the outsider it is just the gentle (in my case) parting of the water in an unobtrusive and fairly quiet crawl, but to the swimmer, especially with earplug-type headphones on the sound of the motion of the arms through water and the bubbles of air are more cacophony than anything else. And the subtlety of Classical music with its sonic highs and lows is not the best way of cutting through the ambient swimmer’s sound to make a good listening experience.
This is where pop music comes into its own with a thumping bass and a clear instrumental accompaniment to a strong singing voice or voices: those come through loud and clear, where most classical music does not. And yes, I have tried bone conduction as well and it works, but only up to a point, and that point is far away from the texture that makes listening enjoyable.
But now, for another week, I am in the gym as the ‘maintained’ pool begins to refill and whatever has had to be done during its three-week shutdown draws to an extended close.
Goodness knows, swimming is basically boring – and I therefore have considerable admiration for those professional swimmers who simply have to do length after length after length (after length) to maintain their professional standard. And I can see why the sheer tedium of training encourages many dedicated swimmer sportspeople to give up. I do not, of course, pretend to be in that category in either the dedication or in the tedium, but I do like to be distracted during my swims and during my (enforced) sojourns in the gym while the pool is being serviced.
With my daily swim I have divided up the hour and a quarter that I spend in the water by doing firstly a series of water-based exercises loosely based on what my physio told me I had to do after the knee operations. I then do two lengths of leg-paddling using spaghetti floats, then two lengths of breast stroke, then umpteen lengths of front crawl with one of those ‘infinity’ floats clutched between my legs, to compensate for the disequilibrium that two new metal knee joints give, then two further lengths of leg-paddling and finishing with a modified form of the exercises with which I started. So it is a varied mixture and anyway, the thought of a cup of tea in the adjoining cafĂ© keeps me keen!
I have established a pattern for the gym (only another week before the pool is back in use!) which comprises 1km on the rowing machine; 30 minutes on the cycle; 5 minutes on a sort of knee compression thing; 5 minutes on a variant of knee pressing, and a 5-minute walk. I also, at some point, do the leg raising exercises that I usually do in the pool and discover that they are a bloody sight more difficult in the air! And that is my hour done.
Only the cycle affords the opportunity to do something other than suffer, and I have found that I can read on my mobile phone (everyone else uses their phones to establish a wi-fi link with the machines so that their exercise can be endlessly analysed, collated and admired.
As the bike that I use has an actual back to it, one can luxuriate in moderate comfort and there is the sort of stability that makes reading a positive pleasure. Except, reading what? Rather like my pretentions to get to know the late quartets in my swim, I realize that what you need when doing exercise is something that does not demand a great deal of brain power to appreciate. And I have found that the perfect fodder for a 30-minute static cycle is firstly to complete the Guardian ‘Quick’ crossword, that I will have started before I leave the house and then let myself drift away in the narrative nonsense of one of the ‘free’ digital books that a website regularly offers me.
The last book I read during my cycling was an episodic, feel-good narrative sparked by the finding of a book list by various characters, a conceit that allowed character development and a pleasing circularity to the various story lines.
The latest book is, or seems to be, an Egyptian murder mystery with references to the British Museum and King Tut and the puzzle of mysterious inscriptions and that sort of thing. Ideal!
I only hope that I can spin it out over the next week, when the water will then reclaim me and the constant attempt not to drown will be mind-filling enough to keep me occupied.
