I was swimming in the campus pool this afternoon, and there was a point where I pushed off the wall underwater on my back, to look up and see the blur of orange lights that made up the results board. It looks like an exact but smaller version of the one at Sheffield.
It was very short and sudden, but for a few seconds, I was convinced I was in the battle to win the 400m IM in the National finals back at Sheffield pool. Paul on the side shouting me on, chewing his tongue and rustling his moustache, the adrenalin rushing, heart pumping, chest constricting, the pain, the dia agony, the cheers and screams of encouragement, the WANT. Suddenly, I was no longer a musician or composer, but a swimmer, wanting nothing more than to get to those Olympics, not wanting to do anything else, but swim. Forever. You know how they say, that just before a moment of death, or danger, you see your life flash before your eyes? Well, mine kinda did. But I'm still alive, and wasn't in any danger. Which has really discombobulated me.
It took me about an hour on the walk back to my house, to get my mind straight again. I was Victoria, Sugar, Plum, the swimmer. The swimmer. It sort of wondered off, even as I bleared Ice dance, Standin' in the Rain and Rain, rain, rain... into my ears, with the rain hammering down on me. I got home, milk in hand and soaked. But then the sudden realization that it was indeed November, and the rain poured down even harder as I thought this. I legged it outside, with November Rain in my ears. I ran into the middle of the field, with nothing but pyjamas and boots on. I just totally didn't care. Covered in mud, running, sliding around, tripping, falling, crying, rain poured down my face. I remember a blog I wrote like this last year, but I was hanging out my window with not just Axl Rose in my ears.
Its strange. Having a flash back like that, has convinced me even more, that I would never go back to swimming for anything, as it would mean giving up music. I will always be a swimmer at heart, and it was Paul, after all, who taught me that if I want something badly enough, I'll get it. And having someone like Paul, who will pick me up and give me a huge hug and kiss, call me Kiddo as he smiles, whilst twirling his moustache and welcomes me into his home, is worth everything to me. Even though I do not swim, I will always be his swimmer. His student. The one who wants it. Badly. So broken knees may have got in the way, but broken knees left me with nothing to do, when I really badly needed something to do. And there was music, my life. I am a composer. Always have been in my head. And always will be.
