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| Under Water by my brother Peter Fisher January 2013 (I added the watercolour filter) |
Swimming is one exercise that is kind to my body, my recent injuries especially my knee.
Before Christmas I started swimming at the local university pool. I was nervous starting something new and sadly, my first two attempts were not the best.
On my first swim, I slipped into the water and enjoyed the cool splash against my hot skin. The lanes for swimming laps are labelled Fast, Medium or Slow. I chose Medium and started following the other swimmers in an orderly fashion up on the left, back on the right. Gradually the others left the lane and I was on my own. I enjoyed striking out and finding my pace. I was just getting into a rhythm when I suddenly collided with a large white plastic wall. Looking up I saw some people erecting a barrier. "What is happening I enquired? Shall I get out of the pool?"
"Swimming squad is starting in this lane now", came the answer.
"How strange." I thought. No simple tap on the shoulder to say, "be careful"or "please move lanes". Just bang into a barrier.
The second time, I swam in the Medium pace lane behind an elderly and slow swimmer. Overtaking him was stressful: "slow down", "look", "check", "speed up", "overtake" and "be careful not to splash". When I finished my laps, I was breathless, dizzy and woozy. I had to sit to rest and recover. I realised that I was over breathing with my inconsistent pace.
Hmm this swimming caper didn't feel so calming and restful as it had been in the past.
I remember twenty three years ago, pregnant with my son. I swam every day. I loved the weightlessness, lifting my bulk and feeling it move. I loved the way the movement and the water washed away the stresses of the day. I remember feeling as though this was the most important half hour of my day.
So, I have persisted despite my initial misgivings, deciding it needed another chance. I have gone back to the pool and I have been rewarded.
The secret is to set my own pace. I start by focusing on my stroke. I only think about finding my rhythm. Stroke, stroke, breathe. I let my body decide the right speed, moving for consistency, comfort and ease.
I relax into my breathing. Breathe in, swim, breathe out. Again, in, out. Natural and not too forced.
I focus on the pull of my arm through the water. I feel the shift in power down through, along and up. I remind myself to give a kick with my legs. I love the way, I glide through the water.
I marvel at the bubbles on my body and from my mouth. Blue drifting through the clear.
I stay left of the centre line, it guides me down the 50m length. I find my eyes don't have to focus and my thoughts can settle. Ideas come and go, settle, expand and then move on. Sometimes, inspiration comes in waves, other times it's just mundane list making.
I am in my zone.
I notice the light dancing on the bottom of the pool as I slip from sunlight into and through the shade.
I count the laps as I turn and then I let my thoughts run free. I am gliding, it is easeful. I feel free.
Twenty laps later, I am calm. I have found my daily meditation place.
Thirty minutes and I am in a better place.
What interesting comments on the swimming. Thanks for sharing that. The photo is great, too, but I was trying to think about times I've been swimming. In Arizona, with slight heating, you can swim outside year round - or cooling (aerating) in the summer, of course! I love swimming in a slightly warm pool. I'll have to rethink my decision not to join the Y here.
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