I am perennially in training, in training for life, to live life and to deal with life. Sometimes it means sacrifices, not having that glass of wine at night or going to bed by 11 pm so I get enough sleep to deal with the activities of the next day.
Sometimes training means being physical, hiking on the reserve, packing a towel and goggles and swimming at the pool even when I'd rather vege on the lounge. Now that summer is here, this is an option. The water is invigorating and when I go during the day, the sun's rays warm my body and sparkle over the water, inviting me to dive and push against its force, the controlled environment comforting yet stifling as I leverage my body into a pencil-shaped position.
Against the wall at the deep end, I push down easily touching the bottom of the pool with my feet, only to spring upwards quickly. I angle my head so my face is the first part of my body to break through the water. My hair gets plastered to my head, not only away from my face and out of my eyes but also because this action makes me feel confident, it makes me feel confident and in control, knowing my hair is plastered in an orderly way. In this second, I embrace the sensuous interaction with the water as it meets my face and I break through its barrier and its droplets fall away and I open my eyes and feel alive.
I tread water and position my body behind the diving block so as to take advantage of the sunlight coming through a single portion of the glassed ceiling. A cloud moves away and the sun shines brightly. From my view, it is in an otherwise cloudless, blue sky. I lift my face and close my eyes soaking up the tingling, warm sensation of the sun's rays; light feathery movements dance across my skin. In that brief moment I am motionless and weightless, making gentle ripples across the water with my hand maintaining balance and buoyancy.
I am nowhere except in that moment, in that space behind the diving block, in public, yet in solitude. I hear nothing except the slapping of the water on my skin and I drink in the moment with only my breathing to remind me of my existence.
Time presses me and I reluctantly shake my head and open my eyes before pushing out from the wall breaking into a survival back stroke swim, with a kicking action like a frog on its back. I swim enjoying the steady rhythm as my arms push under the water like paddles, in sync with the outward movements of my legs and head to the shallow end of the pool, conscious of the time, commitments and responsibilities, giving order to my day.
Sometimes training means being physical, hiking on the reserve, packing a towel and goggles and swimming at the pool even when I'd rather vege on the lounge. Now that summer is here, this is an option. The water is invigorating and when I go during the day, the sun's rays warm my body and sparkle over the water, inviting me to dive and push against its force, the controlled environment comforting yet stifling as I leverage my body into a pencil-shaped position.
Against the wall at the deep end, I push down easily touching the bottom of the pool with my feet, only to spring upwards quickly. I angle my head so my face is the first part of my body to break through the water. My hair gets plastered to my head, not only away from my face and out of my eyes but also because this action makes me feel confident, it makes me feel confident and in control, knowing my hair is plastered in an orderly way. In this second, I embrace the sensuous interaction with the water as it meets my face and I break through its barrier and its droplets fall away and I open my eyes and feel alive.
I tread water and position my body behind the diving block so as to take advantage of the sunlight coming through a single portion of the glassed ceiling. A cloud moves away and the sun shines brightly. From my view, it is in an otherwise cloudless, blue sky. I lift my face and close my eyes soaking up the tingling, warm sensation of the sun's rays; light feathery movements dance across my skin. In that brief moment I am motionless and weightless, making gentle ripples across the water with my hand maintaining balance and buoyancy.
I am nowhere except in that moment, in that space behind the diving block, in public, yet in solitude. I hear nothing except the slapping of the water on my skin and I drink in the moment with only my breathing to remind me of my existence.
Time presses me and I reluctantly shake my head and open my eyes before pushing out from the wall breaking into a survival back stroke swim, with a kicking action like a frog on its back. I swim enjoying the steady rhythm as my arms push under the water like paddles, in sync with the outward movements of my legs and head to the shallow end of the pool, conscious of the time, commitments and responsibilities, giving order to my day.
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