Swimming Laps at the Urbana Aquatic Center
I actually posted this a while ago, but have had a break in swimming (for various reasons) and have now returned and had exactly the same reactions, so decided this was still really relevant.
#1. Who would have thought I’d settle into swimming so easily again! As a kid I swam constantly and quite well (won events/races in galas etc), and loved the water and the social aspect of our municipal pool in Rusape (Rhodesia), and later in Umtali (also Rhodesia) at high school: it was one of the places to hang out. But, somewhere along the line after that I lost the pleasure and the desire (probably mostly as I’d put on some weight), and wouldn’t even readily swim in the sea in Mexico. Now, that’s pretty serious!
So, it’s been a wonderful surprise and pleasure to me to find that I like the water again, that I like going to the Aquatic Center to swim laps, that I’m glad we decided to do this as another form of exercise. Once the initial cold frisson passes, I love the feel of the water surrounding my body—silky, soft, smooth, caressing the skin— and relish the feeling of peace and comfort that comes after the first few laps.
#2. This makes me think of the concept of going back to the water, how water is so elemental. Water must be my element (is there such a thing as a sacred element for each person?) if I’m feeling so happy to go back into it. I have always loved being BY the water—next to a lake, a river, the sea. Walking, eating, sleeping close to water, especially running or moving water, is especially peaceful and yet also stimulating. I love the rain, especially after a dry spell, and remember the drought we went through in southern Africa and then the wild, wonderful thunderstorms that broke it.
#3. As I swim sedately up and down the lanes—breaststroke only—I ponder many things. Compared to many of the other swimmers churning along with their freestyle stroke I am rather slow, but I keep going gently, and suddenly (it seems)—actually about 50 minutes—I’ve gone more than 1km. I liken myself to the tortoise in the fable of the Hare and the Tortoise. I keep plodding along—in this case, gently moving in the water—and slowly but steadily rack up the distance. It’s about perseverance rather than speed, the will to finish rather than to win. Which is rather like lots of situations in life: it’s often more important to finish, to do something, than it is to be first, and perhaps doing something so speedily that it’s done sloppily.
#4. Chunks of Time:
Most days in the beginning I set myself a goal of 40 laps, or 1km (now I can do more if I have time). When we start, that seems like an impossible distance. I swim one lap, then 2, and think, “No, I’ll never get to 40, that’s such a huge number”. But, I continue and next thing I’ve done 10, then 20, then 28, and 35. Two things have happened in this process: first, I’ve become very good at fractions, at adding and multiplying. Two laps are 50m, 4 are 100m, which is already 1/10 of what I want to do. Eight laps are 1/5 of what I’m aiming for, and 10 are 250m, which is 1/4km. Wow! And so on.
From actually experiencing this has come the realization that the same is true of life. Many huge, or even supposedly insurmountable, tasks or jobs are really not if you break them down. Do things in blocks, or chunks, of time or tasks and the fractions add up. Before you know it, you’ve actually finished.
