Coping Strategies 2

Swimming

I didn't really care about swimming. I lived in this condo for over 2 years without using the pool. The only bathing suit I'd owned I left on the east coast about 7 years ago. Then, thanks to LandsEnd and the helpful lady who can tell you what size to get if you are disproportional (see Miranda's blog for more details on Family Physique), I purchased a bathing suit.

I've taken a lot of vacation days since Kyle's death. It's been ridiculously hot, and I had to do some exercise, so swimming it was. Now I'm addicted. Well, almost. I still have worse addictions (see Bad Coping Strategies below). But I'm swimming almost daily. About 20 laps, or 40 lengths (it's not such a long pool). That's about 24 minutes. And it's helping my lousy knee (injured first while dancing around the living room to Al Green; second while walking on cobblestones in Edinburgh). Much better than OT.

My first problem with swimming was how to count laps. There is nothing worse (well, of course there IS, but go with me on this) than losing count of your laps. One doesn't want to cheat, one DOES want credit for every damned lap completed. To keep count, I would swim to the other side and make a mark on the cement side with my wet finger, but on hot days the fingerprints would dry up before I returned. So then I started swimming in sets. I swim one lap with the breast stroke, one with the crawl, two more laps--one on each side--with the side stroke, and finally one lap on my back. I don't do the backstroke, more on this later. I complete four sets and, bingo, that's 20 laps. I check my start time, so that if I lose count of sets, I can figure it out. Sets take 6 minutes, you see.

I have a different relationship with each stroke. And I don't do them correctly, but so what. I love the breast stroke; it is simple and gentle and I don't have to get my face wet right away. I can't get the frog kick and the breast stroke in sync so I'm doing some sort of bastardized half kick thing. I hate the crawl, cause it actually takes effort, but I cheat on that too, not putting my head in as you're supposed to. I love the side stroke--I glide like a long thin knife through the water, and by now I have half my head in the water cause it really makes for the best glide. And finally, the piece de resistance: lying flat on my back, doing the flutter kick, I move my arms up and down--a backstroke without breaking the surface--my arms under water making slow strokes as if I were a bird flapping in thick thick air. It feels so good. I feel strong and I cover a lot of distance. I stare up into the sky and think 'Those birds have nothing on me." Who needs to fly in the air; I'm flying through the water. And when I'm through I've completed another set.

I combine my Mindful Awareness with Swimming. I see the colors of the pool (Hockney really got it right with his turquoise and white), see the tall eucalyptus trees way overhead, follow birds and planes, listen to my breath and the pool motor when my ears are under water, and focus on the strength of my under-water-winging.

And I think about Kyle. And I think about my next blog. And I think about Miranda. And I think about Kyle.

. . . . . . . .

but, of course, after writing the last blog, i didn't go swim. i watched a mediocre TV movie and enjoyed every minute of it.