Skip to main content

Swim. Ride. REST.

Such has been the pattern for me in recent days.  There are few things I enjoy doing more than driving on traffic free roads, riding on pleasantly winding roads without road markings and swimming in an uncrowded and beautifully maintained 50m pool.  Each of these activities have been enhanced by the fact that they have been engaged in for as long as I wish, without the need to clock-watch, or be interrupted by any form of modern communication.  I have been peacefully pacing myself, and getting in touch with my body and its fluctuating energy levels, maintaining maximum enthusiasm throughout. 

I have swum over 12k in the last four days.  But more to the point, I have enjoyed each and every length.  I have swum alongside some incredible fish-like swimmers.  True aquathletes.  I adore the pool at the Bath University Sports Training Village, and have written about its depth and fast water previously.  Something happens when I train, without the usual distractions of a busy weekday schedule into which a brief swim has been cleverly fitted (but only just) – I just swim, and swim on a little further.  I thought little of my 3.5k this morning.  It went swimmingly.  




I was barely aware of those I was sharing the lane with – there was ample room for each of us, and we maintained a steady pace, occasionally holding the wall for minibreak and a sip of our energy drink of choice (mine is usually of the Lucozade variety).  I was very aware of the pool – and quickly got into the zone I have fondly named mindful swimming.  I was focusing on my breath.  Each and every breath that came, and went.  Inhaling as I turned my head, before exhaling, slowly, mindfully, consciously, deliberately.  I swim with my mouth open throughout, Michael Phelps style(!)  Coming to the end of the length, I hold my breath, to tumble turn, and return back down the pool – taking a few power strokes to recommence my rhythm.  50m takes me 45 seconds.  The laps clock up, but I’m not really there to count.  I try to stay connected with my experience.  How I am feeling.  Body immersed.  Body being breathed.  


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Table. Apple. Penny.

Whilst there were several places I might have been that morning, I wouldn't have been anywhere else.  The practitioner from the Memory Service arrived promptly.  I liked her instantly.    Mum was nervous.  I think I was a little, too.  It's been a difficult year.   "It's Friday, it's the fourteenth of December and I'm at home..."   No problems there.  CAMCOG, or the Cambridge Cognitive Examination is a thorough assessment tool used to assess the extent of extent of dementia, and to assess the level of cognitive impairment.  The standardised  measure assesses orientation, language, memory, praxis, attention, abstract thinking, perception and calculation.    "Table.  Apple.  Penny."   Three everyday items that were introduced at one point, and then referred to again later on.  Again, Mum was able to recall each.      I am reminded that the...
Post a Comment
Read more

Glass half full? Glass half empty? Or perhaps the glass is broken

I am, constitutionally, a glass half empty gal.  I will always first acknowledge what I don't have, what I have lost, and what it is that I am seeking.  I tend to overlook my strengths, concentrating only on those bits of me that are underdeveloped or weak.  I refer to myself as a realist, but in doing so compliment myself and insult those who genuinely are simply realistic.  My modus operandi is to identify what's not working and acknowledge this before seeing more clearly what functions perfectly well.  This has its place: I edit others' written work pretty well.  My fastidious attention to detail serves me, and the author.  Accuracy counts, for me and I have an excellent memory.  I can remember a great many of my sessions with clients verbatim.  Even this asset is something I can, and do, diminish the true value of, by concentrating on 'I should have said...' or 'why didn't....  occur to me during the session?' Earlier this we...
Post a Comment
Read more

Pausing in the sunshine

And so, chemo is over.  My best friend's diary has been chocker...  Line cleans, blood tests, scans and 18 weekly doses of the gruelling treatment itself.  Summer seems at last to have arrived and with it, we hope, some time, peace and space. She is, we acknowledged over a rather yummy luncheon served to us beneath the beautiful canopy of creepers and climbers at Petersham Nurseries, an inspiration. A small group of us gathered to celebrate her forthcoming marriage.  The sun's rays joined the warmth we all have for this very special woman.  Warmth and, in my case at least, pride. It is the greatest privilege to call this woman my best friend.  She continues to epitomise my understanding of grace.  Our bodies are fragile things.  Our minds are frailer still.  In her composure and wisdom, she possesses an outlook I can only aspire to adopt.  From you, dear Charlotte, I learn and I learn and I learn.   The ...
Post a Comment
Read more