For the first time in seventy days, I really didn’t want to swim this morning. Some days I’ve balked at getting into the water because it’s especially windy or wavy or cold. And a few days have been so busy and full that finding the time for a swim was a challenge. But today was the first time, without any reason whatsoever, that I just didn’t want to go. Most days I look at the water with giddy anticipation. Today I felt like, why am I doing this? And it wasn’t just the swim; I was already looking ahead to this very moment when I’d sit down to write my daily post and dreading that. I’d had enough of the whole challenge.
Luckily, I was swimming with Angie and she had enough enthusiasm for both of us. In the end, of course, it was a glorious swim and I’m so glad I did it. The daily exchange between swimmers at the bulb goes something like this: as one is coming out, the ones going in say, “How was it?” and the ones coming out always say, “It was glorious,” or “Beautiful,” or, “Fantastic.” No one ever says, “God, I’m glad that’s over!” No matter how you feel going in, you always feel better after a swim.
Certainly today I did. Conditions were pretty perfect; sunshine, light breeze. The air wasn’t as clear as yesterday (it’s sad how quickly the brownish haze settles back down over the city), but it felt clean and fresh.
We even stumbled upon some geese getting frisky with each other. I guess spring really is in the air.
We had a good, strong swim out to the big tree—it’s getting easier to go farther—and then a beautiful swim back. We swam close to the land today and it was fun to see all of the people out walking their dogs.
I’m glad I swam. Glad I wrote it all down here. I’m grateful for this challenge to myself that makes me do the things I love; the things that make me feel good in my body and soul, even on those days I don’t really want to. And grateful for friends who do it with me; giving me that boost of energy when I can’t muster it for myself.