Swim for life midday!!

It was getting harder. The thumping of my heart was all I could hear inside my swimming cap. I hated that cap, sticking down on my head, pulling on my forehead, pulling my hair but right now I couldn’t let myself think about that.
 
What was there to think about? The flapping of the water around my face? The slap slap of my arms in the water by my ears or the splashing in my face when my legs got tired and I kicked too hard or out of rhythm.
 
I preferred swimming on my back. It meant I could look up and see the clock or see the people lined up in the spectators banks. I had no idea where my mum or dad were, up there somewhere I guess.
 
The monitor told me her name was Moira. Just like me. I’d never met another Moira before. That made me smile. She was telling me I had six more laps to do.
 
Tired. Tired, but I wouldn’t give up. Wouldn’t give in. I was a strong swimmer and I was going to swim a mile for charity. For the British Heart Foundation. I would go on to do this every year for four years. I was eight years old.
 
It was a chance thing really. My primary school took us to the local pool to swim. The British Heart Foundation was organizing a sponsored event there. One mile for life.
 
It was the one event that really marked me and shaped me. Far better than the collecting things operations for the ‘Help the Aged’ or even the sponsored walks or sponsored reads we did. This really challenged me. Not everyone can swim a mile. I couldn’t now I guess – unless I really had to. I wish I still could.
 
I guess that was the challenge I saw in the Blogathon last year. Challenge myself to see if I could pull it off, this thing that seems easy but everyone says is hard. This thing that I always want to do and never do. And that’s the reason why I’m blogging for the British Heart Foundation – because they also gave me life. Confidence. Belief in myself. Knowledge that I could take the pace when I had to.
 
Thank you BHF.