Life in partial recovery.

Life in partial recovery.

There is a feeling here that we may be on the way back. Rumours have abounded that the whole world is out of the intensive care unit and could be taken to a hospital ward where the patient will now be allowed to recover properly until further notice. Now we've no idea when the patient will be released and left to go home but there is a nagging suspicion that a complete convalescence may be required until we can tell with a reasonable degree of certainty that the operations have been entirely successful.

We are now almost four months into the coronavirus lockdown and all of the illogicalities have yet to be figured out, the scientific data continues to leave us mystified and the medical cognoscenti are still telling us that sooner or later this four-month, global stagnation, this now lengthening period of suspended animation and economic apocalypse shows no sign of blowing over- at least for a while.

So this is where we are now. In the last couple of days, tattoo parlours, nail bars, beauty treatment and, most recently, swimming pools are open for paying customers. Here we are confronted with yet more random guesswork and calculated gambling. We are not quite into Russian Roulette territory but all of the aforesaid services still hold the element of the unknown about them. In theory they all sound as though they should be given an overwhelming thumbs up, a clean bill of health. But is everything safe? Are all activities at the mercy of human infection somewhere along the line?

 The underlying fears of course are still hovering around in the background and we'll never know just how safe it may be for the ladies to have their regular sessions of nail varnishing, bodily decoration on most of their bodies and all of that pampering that normally accompanies a trip to the local shop. At the moment tattoo parlours are very much the latest fashion statement, a vanity project for some while for others just a hobby or something to do on a rainy Tuesday afternoon when the basket weaving is beginning to get on your nerves and macrame isn't really the fulfilling experience you thought it would be.

Anyway, there was one moment over the weekend that did tickle your funny bone which almost seems totally inappropriate at the moment but this one announcement almost had you falling off your chair with laughter. So here's the latest directive from Her Majesty's government. It beggars belief and it almost belongs in some indefinable category of absurdity. You may or may not have heard about it in which case you can just dismiss it as crazy balderdash, the idea of somebody who perhaps should get out more, foolhardiness on a scale barely imaginable.

Here we go folks. If you go to your local swimming pool you are expressly forbidden to do the back stroke. No, it's true. How could you possibly make up something like that? It has to be advisable because, in theory, this is a totally plausible suggestion since we all know about the perils of bumping into somebody else while powering down a swimming lane with all the consummate ease of a Duncan Goodhew or Sharon Davies.

Now how on earth did we come to the earth shattering conclusion that performing the back stroke could be so dangerous to your health? We're all aware of these now- familiar social distancing laws now reduced to one and a bit so we're now absolutely clear on what and what not to do. But since when did the backstroke constitute a health hazard? Still, these are the stipulations everybody so we'll just have to listen to them and the warnings are perhaps understandable.

For those who can swim without reaching Olympic standards, the prospect of being told not to do the backstroke ever again, quite possibly, doesn't exactly fill any of us with hope. Most of us have mastered both the front crawl and breaststroke but to outlaw the backstroke almost seems like some very totalitarian act, an order to stop what you're doing immediately otherwise you'll be heavily fined.

Some of us learnt the rudiments of swimming at school and do like the occasional dip from time to time but this smacks of paranoia and scaremongering for whatever reason. It isn't often that you find yourself compelled to launch into a thousand laps of the backstroke because you simply want to show off to everybody. But if it is your forte and it's the one stroke you know you have a proficiency for then why on earth should you be denied the pleasure of doing so?

But why is the backstroke now considered taboo? We've spent a greater part of this coronavirus lockdown gritting our teeth, stepping gingerly when we do go out, queuing up outside supermarkets for hour upon hour and then covering our faces with masks which may well become compulsory shortly even if we have to nip into the local corner shop for a tin of peas. So we couldn't travel that far and exercise had to be taken a stage further. Surely the backstroke has to feature prominently in our swimming routine.

For the last three and half months we've been wandering around in darkness even when it was quite clearly daylight. We ventured over to parks, communicated via Zoom, taken part in cyber quizzes, hooked up with family and friends on tiny computer screen squares and then done it all again, day after day. And yet how much walking can you possibly do and how much talking can you do without any real physical interaction? Work and school were banned, nobody was allowed to go anywhere without the consent of 10 Downing Street. Surely though this is showing signs of fizzling out.

So we suddenly became aware of the leisure centres and swimming pools which were now gathering dust. Soon they would be shut abruptly but, as events would prove, sensibly. But now the swimming pools are now echoing to the sound of multi splashing, humans doing their bit for their heart with vigorous exercise, good for the arms, shoulders and leaving you completely revitalised. And yet now we can't do the backstroke which is rather like telling a cricketer that he can't use a bat in case the varnish on the bat is infected with goodness knows what.

It almost feels a lifetime ago when the process of learning how to swim became a vital necessity because you were told repeatedly that you had to learn all the basic swimming strokes. Now it was that we won our deserved certificates for swimming a width of the pool, the length of the pool and then, if you were so motivated, the lifeguard certificate which was somehow beyond some of us. In retrospect it all seemed pretty daft at the time but when your teacher tells you to climb into a pair of pyjamas, dive into the pool and retrieve a plastic brick at the bottom of the pool, you did as you were told.

But there you are everybody. Beware the swimming police, watch out for that big, bad wolf prowling and growling around your local lido or swimming pool. The jobsworths are on the warpath and be sure not to fling your arms in a back stroke motion because the consequences could be legal resulting in an appearance in court, a severe looking judge with the law quite firmly on their side and the back stroke could mean the loss of several thousands of pounds. Isn't everything going swimmingly? Woops, you'll have to excuse that excruciatingly painful pun. They do get better. Honestly.