Sadly my electric blue, super-fast running shoes seem to be struggling with a bout of depression just at the moment, and sit dusty and dull in a corner of my room. What they need probably is some good old-fashioned fresh air and exercise, but they just aren’t up for it. Such a catch-22. So, knowing I can’t force the issue with my runners (I am a social worker after all), I made my way to the Prestonpans’ leisure centre and pool, to partake in my first Aquafit class. Not surprisingly, given it was mid morning, the pool quickly filled with pensioners who like me also clearly like their scotch pies and Bridies. “God help me and my love meat-stuffed pastry!” I thought to myself.
Awaiting the start of the Aquafit class, the grey haired, big bosomed matrons of Prestonpans encouragingly “och,ayed” each other as they chatted and bobbed effortlessly, with only the merest, occasional wave of a hand across the surface of the pool, (how do they do that anyway?). The instructor, surprisingly sporting a shaved head and full-body tattoos, appeared on deck to the thumping noises of his favorite club songs, and looked more the part of the rehabilitated bad boy come home to start again.
Prestonpans, or “The Pans”, as it has come to be known, is still considered by many to be nothing more than a rough and tumble, council house dominated tow, and negative stereotypes about the town and its people continue to abound. In truth, none of the stereotypes I have heard about “The Pans” reflect my own experience here. Welcoming and friendly, with a proud history, the town is filled, for the most part, with hard-working, community-oriented families that value humour, good conversation, and looking out for each other -Values born out of the town’s history of coal mining and it’s struggle against the ensueing poverty, when the mine was shut down.
http://www.europealacarte.co.uk/scotland/eastlothian
Having said that, if all you had seen of Prestonpans was this Aquafit class you might have left with your misconceptions intack! Still, I had a great time, and the instructor, with a cheery twinkle in his eyes, and a few jokes about ensuring our bathing suits were properly secured, put us through our paces. I am not sure what those paces were, as given his accent, the blaring/jarring dance music and the splash of water around me, I could not make out a word he said. Never the less, I diligently splashed around the pool, trying to keep up with the Women of the Pans, who can really move when they want to, and wished my runners were with me. They’d have enjoyed the class I think.
I was supposed to blog about Christmas and New Year’s Eve – Next time!
stookiehavers 