Last updated at 15:13, Wednesday, 02 May 2012

IT was a day that shaped the rest of my life; a moment that, although I didn’t realise it back then, was to alter my destiny.

The sun was fiercely beating down when I first spotted it.

‘It’ being the bum of a fellow holiday maker who was basking by the pool of the hotel I was sharing with my pals on a sunshine break away.

I excitedly called my roommate and insisted he take a look. We were, after all, young, free and single – and it was a lovely bum.

I proclaimed, there and then, that the owner of said bum would be my next girlfriend. It was a typically bullish and confident remark from a young James Higgins, but hey, I was on holiday, buoyed by Greek beer and having the time of my life.

It took a while, but I eventually acquainted myself with the owner of said bottom.

And, although she rejected me at first as a ‘loudmouth and womaniser,’ – unfair labels I might add, but perhaps understandable in the context of my lads’ holiday – we eventually got to know each other and found we got along rather well.

It was a case of putting the hours in; of refusing to be defeated at the first, second and third hurdle. And of staying true to my goal.

Ten years down the line and the owner of said bum is still around. I’m now proud to call her my wife and the mother of my three fantastic children.

If you’re wondering how on earth this is relevant to my bid to swim a mile, bear with me.

For I find myself increasingly having to adopt the same positive mental attitude as I did when the chips were down in my quest for love 10 years ago.

Until recently I had hit a brick wall, both in terms of my enthusiasm to continue with my swimming efforts and then, on the days I made it to the pool, the determination to push myself further.

My floundering drive was then hit further when I developed an infection which saw my arm swell to the size (almost) of an elephant’s leg. It was not a good time.

Yesterday, I plunged into the waters of the Park Leisure Centre’s pool for the first time in more than two weeks. Prior to setting off, I had vowed to my colleagues that I would hit 50 lengths for the first time.

It took more than a dash of persistence to make it – which I did – but not before I had cranked my mind up a notch in the determination stakes.

To many, 50 lengths will not be a big deal. To me, it was massive, and a big step on the road to achieving my mile target.

D-Day looms ominously in the not-too-distant future.

I need to step up my efforts – and summon a dose of the holiday spirit that a decade ago helped me win the girl who, at first, simply didn’t want to know.

First published at 14:51, Wednesday, 22 February 2012
Published by http://www.nwemail.co.uk