Wednesday, 13 August 2014

The Type of Water That is Wet

The suit was tight, tighter than I remembered and the goggles were new, so unlike the ones I found in a lost and found box and used for years before they disappeared. But I was determined. Four years ago an era ended. One where I spent the majority of my non academic time srrounded by chlorine. Five solid years of chlorine. Years where the minimum weekly swim was 500 yards. And suddenly I was struggling for a mere 25 m. I somehow had let it all go. I gave up the pool life once I fell into yoga. Yoga become my extra source of income and somehow seemed an upgrade from the lifeguard years. It was new and exciting with the pay so much higher than the ten hourly dollars I knew so well. But somehow I knew it was time to return. To push my lungs and muscles somewhere they had forgotten. As much as the first 25 seemed never ending as the km mark was reached I felt energized. I knew the adrenaline had kicked in ad that I could push further but I also knew that it was the end for the night. A successful place holder until next time.

It is so easy to forget the past in that conscious way. Releasing actions and activities that seem irrelevant. Forcing ourselves to forge a new trail. Yet for me this often means losing something I once loved. Allowing time to taint enjoyment and throwing the baby out with the bath water. Perhaps it is my lack of work life balance and finding a way to make time for everything so I forgo it all as I constantly stare at a schedule that just commitment. I think I just needed that first plunge though. To feel the water engulf me and the lanes feel as familiar as all do. The reminder that I can go back. Perhaps this is the beginning of something old.

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