I arrived on time (a rare occurrence) but was made a little late (the norm) by having to sign up again at reception. While I waited a tall man came up behind me and tickled my ribs.

“Hello Byron,” I turned around.

“So you knew it was me?”

“I hoped it was you – who else could it have been?” I laughed and he was called away.

A few minutes later I was signing forms, still at reception, when a nice strong arm slipped around my waist.

“That’s nice,” I turned around to give Byron a peck on the cheek (well, what is a girl supposed to do?).

“I haven’t seen you in ages. Have you been away?” asked Byron.

“No, just busy with work and visitors, but I’m going to mend my ways and come here more often.”

On my way to the changing rooms I could hear distant music coming from behind the heavy swing doors that I had to pass; and over the beat of the music I could hear shouting.

“Not Susan then,” I thought to myself, “but it’s a Monday, Susan should be in on Mondays, or am I mistaken?”

In the changing rooms, still two rooms and two walls from the pool area, I could hear the music and the shouting even more clearly. I considered changing my mind instead of my clothes but my resolve to be good got the better of me and I decided to give it another go.

I had hoped to sneak into one of the shower cubicles unnoticed; however, recent improvements had taken place since I had been last and the cubicles had disappeared, and now there are several open showers under bright lights, so that any late arrivals are under the spotlight. In disgrace, I showered facing the wall while perhaps all eyes were on my bottom.Yet, perhaps not… not while the twenty five or so ladies present were already well underway with “bootcamp aquacise”.

Susan was off and a young man with red hair and a red face to match was taking her slot… very loudly. “Mr Bootcamp” was a young chap dressed in rugby shorts, rugby shirt, long rugby socks and… rugby boots? No, rugby boots have spikes – don’t they? He must have worn trainers, they didn’t make a clip-clop sound, not that anyone could hear anything above the cacophony that was his shouting over the blaring modern music with no melody (that nobody recognised).

The back and middle of the pool was occupied to such an extent that I was obliged to take up the largest space available, at the front – directly in front of Mr Bootcamp. He had a repertoire of about eight exercises that he repeated throughout the session, varying them only in degree of difficulty – kick low, kick a bit higher, kicker higher still; lift arms so far, a bit more, lift them into the air (you get the picture). The earnest young man kicked, squatted and lifted to the sound of his own voice, and he got hot, sweaty and well-exercised; we kicked, squatted and lifted to the sound of his voice, and we didn’t break into sweat, or even get red in the face, because the exercises are much easier to do when you’re almost weightless in the water.

Mr Bootcamp seemed troubled that we didn’t go red in our faces from our exertions so he shouted…

“Come on! You know why you’re here, if you want to lose weight you’ll have to put more into it!”

I did tell you he is young.

Now Susan takes a different approach: she seems to appreciate how hard it is to speak over loud music (and may not like shouting) so she leads her classes by example from the side of the pool, through various routines of exercises to suit the music (almost like dancing in water). She invites her class to choose the level that suits an individual’s needs best and understands that some will exercise at double speed whilst others will be slower, according to discrepancies in age and levels of fitness. She also finds music that people recognise and like, and she was sensitive to our pleas for no more of Abba’s “Mamma Mia” (after two solid years of it – we all used to like it, but not any more!). And, importantly, she does not insinuate that we are too fat.

Towards the end of the session Byron came in to have a word with the lifeguard (who probably had to take out his earplugs), and as he passed by me he gave a secret little wave which lifted my spirits (as I lifted my arms dutifully and dully), and which may or may not have been noticed by the other ladies who were all behind me (hopefully). Byron understands that women need a little levity and before he left he lightened the mood of the entire class by scooping up a handful of water and putting it on the inexperienced Mr Bootcamp’s sweaty face.

Back in the changing room I overheard two ladies extolling the virtues and methods of Mr Bootcamp. Maybe they liked the masterful approach of the rugby team coach, or perhaps the more effusive admirer was the young man’s mother. Whatever the reasons, he was a hit with at least two of the ladies. Byron, on the other hand, was a hit with all.