Back in the water after two weeks off for my Flying Clinic. It was HARD to get back in. Getting into the cold water really is a mental game. It was like all my mental fortitude was gone. Perhaps I used up all my emotional and mental strength on the flying. As I stood there, contemplating the water, waist deep, I even said, "I confronted my biggest fear last weekend and now can't convince myself to get into cold water this weekend." I seriously contemplated getting out. But I want to participate in the Democratic Caucus next weekend, so will likely miss that swim. So if I want to swim in March. This is the one.
I watched a sealion swim by, it looked happy to be in the water. I wanted to join it.
One of my swim buddies told the story that she heard at the Duwamish Longhouse. That when one enters the water, they should ask permission of the water to swim. I love the idea of getting the consent of the water for you to be there. It seems that if the water consents, it is more likely to ensure your safety.
I ask for consent from the water. It took a few tries before it agreed.
For a good five minutes I stood there. Shivering. Doing all the self-talk I could muster. Go, Rebecca. You'll be glad you did. I splashed myself with water. Got colder and colder. The air temp was probably 55, so warm, but not with the water and wind. I watched other swimmers enter and swim off. And finally, I got my consent, swore with a child-friendly swearword (fudgsicle) and swam off.
And it was delightful.
I felt like I could swim forever.
I swam to the third staircase (half mile round trip) and loved every minute of it. I felt cold but I never felt too cold. It was magical.
Oh yeah, this is why I swim!!