He flew. Gliding through the water, and then flying above it. As somewhat of a keen swimmer (gross understatement), for me, there is something magical about watching a fellow water buddy who has perfected the art of butterfly. I can gaze in awe for quite some time, as I did today. Staring. Motionless, appreciating the rythm and easy efficiency of someone who clearly knows what they are doing. Unconscious competence. His identity remains a mystery as we did not speak, but exchanged knowing smiles at several points during the hour we spent as neighbours in adjoining lanes. One of my goals this year is to get some further tuition. I will be returning for a swimming lesson, specifically to learn to fly.
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| The 'Butterfly' |
Right now, however, my training is somewhat less glamorous and distinctly front crawl focused. I am building up my stamina in anticipation of the mile long stretch that awaits me in less than a month's time. I will not have the luxury of a lane to myself. There will be no lanes. I will be surrounded by other mad open water wetsuit clad swimmers, and will do well to avoid swallowing vast quantities of the Thames. But swim my best I will. Each time I enjoy a pool session, I remind myself that it will be so very different on Saturday 26 May. I will not have a nice stainless steel wall from which to push off every 25m. There will be no walls. I will have only buoys indicating the course, and hundreds of arms, and feet, to contend with. I am feeling both excited and daunted by the prospect. I cannot deny the inspiration, motivation and determination I feel as I anticipate the challenge I have committed to, nearly £1500 of sponsorship serves as a proud reminder of why I'm doing this, and the spirit in which I'm doing it. My wetsuit is on its way.
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