Week 5: The agony and the headstand ecstasy

Dominique Mc Mullan: ‘I’ve never even owned a sports bra, never mind a sports injury’ Conor Pope: ‘I am brilliant at headstands in the water’

Dominique Mc Mullan: ‘I’ve never even owned a sports bra, never mind a sports injury’

This week I get some exciting news. I’ve had a little niggle in my left shoulder for a few weeks and have brushed it off as beginner’s aches and pains. As it turns out though, I’m actually the proud owner of “swimmer’s shoulder”. (I might have coined this term myself.) I’ve never even owned a sports bra, never mind a sports injury, so this new addition to my swimming repertoire makes me quite excited.

According to my coach, swimmers often get niggles in this area due to it taking the bulk of their bodyweight under the water. What I’ve learned is that I have to bend my elbow more, and maybe take it easy for a week (my classmates are pushing awfully hard for this). Anyway I have to go to the pharmacy this evening and ask for some something called Voltarol, and I may nonchalantly fill in the pharmacist, and anyone who is listening, on my sports injury while I’m there.

In other news, I brought my other half to the pool for moral support last weekend – and to show off a little. He’s a pretty fit guy, so I was prepared to be pushed, but I’ve been training for five weeks, so was pretty confident I would beat him. (It’s not a competition, Dominique). I didn’t beat him, though. He actually swam the full mile (64 lengths) right there in front of me. And he stopped for breath only once. But I have a sports injury. So there’s that.

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Conor Pope: ‘I am brilliant at headstands in the water’

Another week, another mountain to climb. Or a river to cross. Or something horrendous, at any rate. In addition to the two training sessions organised by Trainer Pete, I decide to attend a Swim for Mille class in the Markievicz Leisure Centre on Townsend Street.

The class is organised by Trainer Brian and there are 14 of us ready to go at the allotted time. There are two lanes, one for the accomplished swimmers and one for the rest of us. He has written what is expected of us on a whiteboard.

It is almost enough to send me back to the changing rooms. We have to do six lengths as a warm-up. A warm-up!!! Then we will have to do six sets of 50m swims and another two sets of 50m using only our legs and a float. After that we have to a few sprints and some slow and steady lengths. And then, as a cooldown, we are expected to do 100m of continuous breaststroke.

I count all the things together and realise that Trainer Brian is expecting us to complete a full kilometre in the next hour. I want to cry. I am not alone. Most of the people in the slow lane are similarly aghast at the distance we are expected to cover.

I start. I manage a couple of lengths at a stretch, and get through the warm-up. As I tire, l lose my rhythm and my legs start to sink. Then I lose more of my rhythm. And I start to sink more. It is a vicious spiral.

By the time we do the breast stroke – the only stroke I can actually do well – I am fit for the bed. I barely manage to make it up and down the pool the requisite four times, but I make it. A kilometre – sort of – in an hour.

Before the session, we get to play in the water. We do starfish, mushrooms – you hold your legs with your arms and sink like a stone to the bottom – and finish up with headstands in the water. It turns out I am brilliant at headstands in the water. The best in the class for sure.

As talents go, I can’t think of a more useless one.