Nobody else was in this huge, fresh, natural “swimming pool.” I found that if I gripped the bottom with both hands, with my feet and body pointing downstream, the current would keep my legs afloat and I’d stay anchored in place. I decided to use that easy position to practice breathing.
Coach: Distance swimming is about going along the shoreline so you can stop any time you want. (I had never thought of it that way.) I said I find it so daunting to look back and know I’ve got to swim all the way back there where I started. I don’t think I’m totally tired out – it’s more mental.
We floated and relaxed, enjoying the cold sinking in to our bodies, while watching for spots where it would be easy to get out of (or into, next time) the water. Cold water is so calming after the initial shock.
The lake looked dark blue and choppy. Close-up, the water was clear, and the gravel bottom looked varied and pretty as usual. Pollen and tiny bits of plant matter floated on the surface as usual. The coolish breeze and the partly cloudy sky, though beautiful and milder than a glaring full sun, were different weather than I’d swam in before. No matter how insignificant a difference it should have been, it felt like a less familiar environment.
I investigated a river for a potential swim. It originates from mountain snow in the municipal watershed at a high elevation. The river is beautiful, cold, and surrounded by forest and by leafy suburbs.