That thing they call the wall?

Due to unforeseen circumstances swimming was postponed from Monday to Tuesday this week, but it being nearly May, I get to go again on Friday. And twice a week thereafter till the swim itself.

After the last swim I remarked to my sister on the phone how I could understand people getting addicted to these early morning swims. Such an amazing way to start the day. How much more you achieved in that day for having started early and so positively. Such a high.

Hmmmm. So very very much harder today. My mind not with it despite the usually energising effect of a bright sunny morning. For the first time the water seemed cool as I got in.

Revisiting breaststroke, everything seemed laboured and difficult, despite having warmed up by length three. Every time my brain wandered in the slightest, my neck would angle upwards. So I would be gasping at the air uncomfortably instead of with the smoothness I would have had if only I'd been able keep my head in line with my spine, allowing it to rise naturally with my shoulders. Practice may make perfect - but it needs your brain to be in the game too, if you're going to entrench the physicality of the idea.

Oh and butterfly? I kept putting it off. After the next length, maybe. Or, no, I'll keep practising breaststroke till I've done half my lengths....Oh and now I need to get my side strokes in, because I'm sure it's doing my waist good.

Finally and for the first time ever I deliberately stop and pause at the end of a length. Stretching out on the water I start to rotate both arms above my head over and down, over and down. Reading the swimming.org advice has reminded me that the breathing is a bit like with breaststroke - you allow yourself to take a breath as your shoulders lift you up out of the water naturally as part of the stroke.

But like my early attempts at breaststroke the leg motion is just a feeble little effort behind me. I manage the length. Do I feel happy, exhilarated, triumphant? No. Somewhat silly and embarrassed. Tired and disinclined to put the effort in again. A length of leisurely backstroke and then back to breaststroke. No endorphin high at all today.

I understand it can be like this for FRED's learners. When you can't do something, whatever it is, the effort you have to put in is physically tiring. That goes for reading too.

That's why FRED coaching sessions are short, no more than 20-30 minutes at a time. Any more than this and the learner's ability to read starts to slow, they become less fluent and they experience more mistakes & difficulties. Those of us who read with ease will best understand this by realising that this happens to us too, when we read upside down or backwards. We start off fluently but after a while it becomes more difficult - our brain becomes tireder sooner because of the extra 'decoding' necessary.

If you have an inkling of what this feels like, perhaps you'd consider making out a cheque to Frest Read Easy Deal, and posting it to:

Frank Rainer, Treasurer, Oaklands, George Road, Yorkley, Lydney, Gloucestershire, GL15 4TL

We'd be very grateful!

Me, though - not very pleased with myself today. Another school report comes to mind (German): 'Catherine must work harder to eradicate careless errors' (yes, Miss Loom)! So I did two extra lengths at the end  because I couldn't be sure I hadn't lost count. And as penance for extreme wussiness.