What a day and where to start with the tail of it.

What you need to know is that today is Katie's birthday not no ordinary birthday but one of those birthdays with an ooooooh in it. But the wrong day for a birthday seeing that lake Brockwell is closed to us on Tuesday's and Thursdays.
 
Brockwell Icicles are however a clever bunch and mustered up the courage, like the lion in the wizard of Oz to ask if we could have it opened for Katie's 30th birthday splash. As if by magic opened it was. Now keeping the whole thing a secret was another thing but like a grand game of Chinese whispers and much organisation on Tim's part we managed it. It was a marvel.

Of coursicle it was exciting to be part of such a splendid birthday splash...but there were so many levels to it, swimming on a Tuesday and getting into the girls changing emporium. No grime and dirt to be seen and no faint whiff of sweaty trainers... the girls changing rooms were warm, spacious and spotlessly clean. Me thinks they have a cleaning rota organised between them.

Mischief on their minds

Balloons were put up and before you knew it order had been restored . . . in true icicle fashion

oooo ahhh mister

oh and the cake . . . another triumph which tasted as good as it looked

Caketastic

And Katie, surprised I recon so. The moral of this short tail is never under estimate the mischief a bunch of icicles can cause . . . . .especially on a no swim day.

Guard of honour

ooooooo what a day......

Believe it the Brockwell Icicles only gone and got themselves invited to the annual swim gala at the biggest (not as good as Brockwell) Lido in the whole of Europe. The one the only Tooting Bec .... oh hec. What an impressive expanse of water it is topped off with the most magnificent wedding cake of a fountain.

Fountain cake

Now what you have to know is that although the Brockwell Icicles have an impressive history stretching back many a year, and were one day probably an orderly and organised bunch. This is modern times and this incarnation are in the main more unruly and disordered. Its a marvel that this comic bunch managed to organise themselves at all. But life's full of wonders and with the sterling efforts of @kingwellfish we were organised in to teams, with times arranged to meet.

So meet we did. Transport organised, togs packed and off we tootled to Tooting.

Not as good as Brockwell

What glories await only time would tell . . . . but like a band of over excited seal pups we gathered outside for our shoal photo, and what a fine bunch of modern day icicles we looked.

Swimming might be our first love but cake eating and making come a very close second. So there you have it centre stage our weapon of choice resplendent in its icicle glory . . . our very own edible Brockwell Lido made by @TimSutton and Katy with virtual assistance from Ms. Perfect curve (you know who you are)

Let the battle commence . . . . . I know its all about taking part and not so much about the gory glory but as the races got underway it started to dawn on me that maybe, just maybe we weren't going to win. But fight we did  . . in the races we entered, anyho why enter ever race that would be far too sensible and quite frankly Mr. Shankly a race to far. Our swimming glory came to the fore in the final relay, can i just say we excelled ourselves and never will our organisational skills be called into question. Go icicles go.....

Costume to go

No fear

What no icicles

What i so love about the icicles is that we just so don't manage to get it together . . . its the Brockwell way but bouy and girl we have masses of fun along the way. I would hazard a guess that we have the most fun and that's what its all about.

So where did we come last of courseicle but someone has to and it couldn't of happened to a better swim club. By my reckoning we can call ourselves a swim club if we are swimming in galas with the likes of the SLSC and the Serps.

Cake wars though . . . we blew the competition out of the water  . . . winners after all phew

Medals all round

You have heard tell of The Swimmer Lite well .... (and keep this under your peaked Parker hat) Saturday with the most dazzling of difference was The Swimmer Driver, well for me anyway. The morning or should I say yawning started at stupid o'clock, that's 6am. Off we sped in what was later referred to as the support car, that's me Jonathan, Katy and Woody to darkest Hampstead for what can only be described as sporting madness....that's the running bit not the swimming. Arriving as planned at 7am at Starbucks (ssshh) in Hampstead where The Swimmer diehards were congregating...some even preparing for the run stocking up on nicotine.

Nicotine to go go go

Also to be marvelled at was the razzle dazzle of the day glo running gear that would get polystyrene spinning in her "the world turned day glo" grave.

Glo faster

Car packed to bursting and off we all set....me with my trusty iphone navigating the way and The Swimmer Crew forming a day glo snake hot footing it to Hampstead ponds agreeing to meet at Parliament Hill lido. What you need to understand in my world this lido is on a big old watery ley line to the future on account of its aluminium base. Before I even had time to settle in the car park, drink any of the whiskey I noticed in a bag, eat the ginger cake or more importantly spend the money I had been entrusted with they appeared all crazy eyed clambering to sample a swim in the future. So off to the future, even I ran.

Its a fare cop

Next stop the Serpentine.....again I beat them which gave me sometime to marvel at the tranquility of the Serpentine and the poshest looking ducks I think I ever did see. Next stop home territory.....Brockwell lido....unless doing the ultra which involved a swim at Tooting Bec and a run meeting up with the rest of The Swimmer Crew at Brockwell. If you ask me ordinary Swimmer or Ultra it's all a run far to far. 

The Serpentine..the calm before The Swimmer

Thankfully I just had time for a sun kissed swim in the lido before my support car duties kicked in. The whole driving lark was a gas, and not in the American petrol sense more in a laid back gas experience you get at the dentist. Impossible to pick the highlights as the whole adventure was a highlight, a mad crazy sport enthused bunch of people and not a sweaty smell from any one of them...phew....bobble hats to go, cake, coldwater, the comforts of a warm car, newspaper and tunes what's not to like...and of course Jonathan's, possibly illegal swim wear.

How many ruc sacs can you get in a VW?

The morning was a Triumph, or should that be VW Golf.