The Return to Water…

Some of you know, despite the fact that I’m always running a 5k these days, that I started my life as an athlete in the swimming pool.

I really don’t remember a time I wasn’t in the water – although I can’t claim to remember the baby classes I took with my mom. 🙂

My dad was also a competitive swimmer, only at a world-class level. When he “hung up his speedo,” so to speak, he taught the fundamentals of coaching. Two of his students were the Canadian Olympic Swim Team Coaches.

So, when I first started competing, my dad was one of my coaches. I often tell this story while rolling my eyes with great melodrama: after all, who wants to live with their COACH?! Haha. Then again, my other coach was a retired Navy Seal, so dad was a cupcake (comparatively speaking). In fact, if my dad reads this, don’t worry – I am NOT calling you a cupcake.

I reached a point where I no longer wanted to compete, I just wanted to swim.

I still occupy that space today. Swimming is my meditation: the world disappears, and there is nothing but the cradle of water surrounding me, the sound of my own breathing, and my muscles pulling me through. The annoyances and petty grievances of traffic (it’s a seasonal community, traffic is a thing right now) melt away. Plot snags fade away so that I can return to them with fresh eyes.

Life is better in the water.

Evolution in reverse. 🙂

Thank you for reading, and blessings to you all…

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