In a recent post   Still have time for Haiku   I wrote about the frustrations of having to keep count of my laps when my mind wanted to wander away.  I was beginning to feel enslaved by the need to monitor and count.  How could I push myself and improve my stamina if I had no idea how far I had swum in my pool sessions; how could I get back the meditative pleasure and freedom to wonder that I found in my swims, if my brain was stretching to remember how many laps I had completed?   On the basis of taking action to change something that frustrated me, I set about researching the options.

I found the internet awash (pardon the pun) with all types of devices for counting laps.  Some monitor your pace by using gyroscopic technology which detects each time you lift your arms.  Apparently this is valuable if you’re into efficiency, and lets you find the perfect number of strokes per lap.  Some monitors can even automatically detect the type of stroke you’re using  but I  bet they would blow a circuit trying to define my  doggy-paddle turns at each end of the pool and cork screw backstroke every fifth lap.

I used to be a bit of a techno head  and in a previous life would have had no problem splashing out (sorry) over £100 on a bit of specialist kit, especially if I could plug it in to my computer and get back all sorts of data about my performance after my swim.  These days I am more measured in my expenditure and less interested in acquiring possessions.  

I found an extremely low-tech way of measuring my laps …

In true Blue Peter fashion my lap counter was lovingly crafted from an old yoghurt pot, two paper clips, a piece of polystyrene box and some elastic. It would do the job perfectly marking laps in pairs with me advancing the dial during my doggy-paddle turn on alternate laps. It was testament to my make do and mend childhood.  

The only problem was that around laps 28/ 29 I couldn’t remember if I had turned the dial.

Once again a helpful thread on the Outdoor Swimming Society Facebook group came to my rescue.  I have adopted the trick of using the alphabet.  Making up a sentence of words beginning with the letter ‘A’ at the beginning of the first two laps, ‘B’ for the next two and so on.  It really works for me.  I was even able to prove to myself that I had really completed 1600 metres because Peter’s Perfect Pecs Please Promoters.

I even had time to return to my cloud watching  – did you know the underside of the wings of pigeons flying over the lido reflect the brilliant azure blue?