Being the only man swimming lengths in a pool and being continuously lapped by all other swimmers who range from young girls to old ladies. Even so, I do enjoy a good swim. Unfortunately Monday's swim was NOT a good one. I left Ward's HQ at 17:00 and drove the 15-ish miles to Derwent Pool. I got into my usual cubicle (I am a creature of habit, it is no better than any other cubicle but it is mine) changed and leapt into the deep end. Off I went, as I approached the halfway point I plotted my course through the more-than-usually-busy shallow end. This proved difficult, as did the return leg. After a few lengths of this annoying situation the lifeguard (for "lifeguard" read "fat bored man ogling girls") started hurling large pieces of flotsam into the pool. Giant polystyrene sheets and rubber balls fell into the waiting hands of seething masses of children (and young adults) and they were immediately squirrelled away to different corners of the pool. Now the serious swimmers had to slalom around these icebergish obstructions whilst being blinded by spray and deafened by squeals of ecstasy as the simpletons realised that if they leaned too far one way or another they would be deposited back into the pool from their polystyrene rafts. This Crystal-Mazeesque situation soon became unbearable for most of the proper swimmers and they got out. I soldiered (or rather marined) on and finally all the kids were ordered out by their guardians and I had middle lane to myself. Let's hope it's not as busy as that tonight. If it is I have a plan to deal with it: You grab a rubber ball and wait in the shallow end with only the top half of your head showing, your eyes moving from side to side like a ninja. Then you find the smallest, youngest cutest ickle kiddy in the pool and wait for them to drift close by. When they are within range you leap from the water shrieking like a maniac and launch the ball as hard as humanly possible directly into the child's face. If you can cause a nosebleed the effect will be doubled. When the child's screams have died down to sobs and everyone is looking at you horror-struck you simply point at the floating obstacles and announce that they are perhaps something of a hazard and ask whether a health and safety risk assessment has been carried out. That should do it. "What the hell did any of that stupid diatribe have to do with catering equipment, refrigeration, catering sundries, medical refrigeration or the repair and servicing of any of the previous?" You ask. Well not a lot... but you see... I am going swimming tonight... and... oh never mind.