Struggling back to work with the rest of the world in the first week of January, I found myself in my happy place: poolside with everything going my way.
I love being in the water. I was happily splashing around one body of water or another every day for seven days over the Christmas/New Yer break. I love being in the water with my friends, I'm always trying to convince someone to come to the beach with me. As soon as the sun begins to shine as Spring approaches, I steel myself for the first bracing dash into the ocean.
I do however have to admit to being a little precious when it comes to my water-based exercise. For me, swimming laps is a solitary pursuit. I've tried including others in my lap-swimming passion, and I've discovered I much prefer to discuss post-event rather than share a lane. I'm most happy when I have an entire 50m pool to myself, but I'll be generous and allow a fellow swimmer occupy other available lanes. I prefer to swim in the morning or about 3pm on a workday if I'm really lucky. Yes, perhaps more than a little precious...
On Friday, conditions were perfect. The sun was shining, the early morning temperature blissful. My train trip to the pool was smooth and uneventful. I was lucky to have one final swim left on my card (that final piece of chocolate is always the best piece, right?) and I raced to the edge, ready for the shock of cool water.
The pool was almost empty and I shared my lane with only one other person. We paced ourselves well, never meeting at the end of a lap. Recently my music device has begun to creak a little, but this time the tunes were clear and uninterrupted. I fell easily into a rhythm. My goggles didn't leak nor were they too tight. I felt smug having remembered to apply sunscreen.
I listened to my music, ran through my thoughts and then let my mind go still while my body continued to work. Soon it was all about the rhythm of breath and stroke. Perfect.
I adore the feeling of gliding through water, muscles working hard, pulling me down the lane. The steady beat of my heart and my exhale provided the rhythm for my stroke. I put extra effort into getting my kick right and the satisfyingly smooth, graceful arc of my arm was pleasing. Feeling both weightless and grounded, swimming is my version of meditation.
The warm shower was a pleasant reward and I exchanged chat with my fellow swimmers, swimming accessories admired, hair dryers shared.
Once ready, I gathered my belongings and strolled to the train, ready to take on the day, mood fixed to bright and happy.
I don't make New Year resolutions, I prefer to tweak as I go along, and maybe I'm too late with this one. This year I'm going to really try once a week to make that early morning swim happen. My wellbeing relies on it. See you at the pool!
