It's gotten colder. Quite a bit colder, actually.
I woke up to a fluttering of snow on Saturday. It was crisp and bright. Winter made her long awaited appearance. It was the most beautiful day to give my long winter coat (something of a favourite that rarely fails to attract remark amongst my generously complimentary friends) it's first outing of the season.
I was attending a Study Day in central London meaning that I didn't manage to really greet the elements until Sunday.
The pool beckoned mid morning, after the Club races had concluded, at which time I swam mostly toute seule. My swims follow something of a predictable routine: creature of habit that I am...
I get changed quickly and sit on the edge at the deep end, legs dangling, gauging the temperature whilst I adjust my swimming caps (I have been wearing two since the end of September; silicone for now, to be replaced with neoprene shortly).
My toes alerted me to the fact that the temperature had dropped since Friday. Two clear nights, and you can feel the difference. The water was down by a whole 3 degrees.
Sunday's swim was a wonderfully invigorating 24 lengths with a water temperature hovering around 8°C and a Personal Best over the first mile (17 lengths in under 32 mins).
Swimming is my meditation: no two practices are the same. No two lengths are identical. I bring with me to the pool curiosity rather than expectation. Each swim is a new swim. I meet the pool and myself as though for the first time.
|I meditate |
So that my mind
~ Sri Chinmoy