When I say that I can’t swim very well I mean that, while I wouldn’t drown if you threw me in a pool and that I could do a few lengths before exhausting myself, when swimming I look (ironically) like a fish out of water. I can’t do that thing where you put your face in the water and lift it sideways every so often to breath. To me, that’s being a proper swimmer.

In my quest to become a proper swimmer, and eventually a triathlete, I bought a book and tried to teach myself total immersion down at the local municipal swimming baths. Despite a few puzzled looks from the locals it went OK but without someone saying “yes that’s right” or “no, just no” I was a bit lost.

So last night I turned up 40 minutes early for the first of a course of eight swimming lessons that will transform me, if not quite into Rebecca Adlington, then to a swimmer that less resembles a wardrobe. Each week me and the three other people in my course get taught some drills by our eccentric coach then have to go away and practice.

Last night involved a big step for me. I’ve never been able to keep water out of my nose, hence the lack of face-down swimming success. Seeing one of the American swimmers win gold in the Olympics wearing a nose clip and revealing in a post-race interview that he too can’t keep water out his nostrils cheered me.

I told this to the instructor as I fixed my clip ready to jump in the pool. Her response: “That’s nice. But you won’t be wearing that in these lessons.” What? No nose clip? I reluctantly discarded it and got on with the first task: sitting on the bottom and blowing bubbles. And it turned out I didn’t die.

The lesson continued and there were a few brain-stinging moments when I forgot to breath out and the chlorine found its way into my nasal cavity, but in the main it went OK. It was a small step, but shedding the nose clip was a big achievement for me.