Starting Again at 50
There had been a sporting life once. Through school and into our twenties, sport was simply part of life. Active, competitive, always moving.
Then knee injuries arrived. Not the kind that disappear after a few weeks, but the kind that make you quietly wonder whether that part of your life is over.
Then came work. Kids. Life. Years passing. Sport gradually became something remembered rather than something done.
A bike changed that. Bought in the early 50s, initially more out of impulse than any grand plan, it was ridden nervously at first and then more often. Running followed a few years later. It was slow, awkward and nothing like running thirty years earlier.
Then came the swimming pool. And one of the most humbling twenty minutes of the entire journey.
Thinking you can swim and actually being able to swim are two very different things.
Gasping at the wall, genuinely shocked by how difficult something so apparently simple could be, was a turning point. That feeling is exactly why the swimming chapter exists.

