Sun Shine on the water

I've decided that I will try to write every time that I swim (that is, as long as I have access to my computer). I'm a recovering perfectionist so I don't want to box myself into too tight a corner. I do want to be writing more, and today has been a good day for writing, and doing things that just needed to get done (the dust bunnies were threatening to take over the world, just like Pinky and the Brain, and almost succeeding!). Today was a busy day, but I was able (and grateful) to get into the pool for the morning swim. The sun was shining beautifully through the windows (the Sava Pool re-d0 has a really wonderful design), so as I was swimming, the sunlight was shimmering on the water, warming it, refracting the light in beautiful patterns in the ripples and making it extra pleasant, almost an artistic experience to be there. The pool was crowded for the morning swim, I suppose because it is so much easier to get into a bathing suit and into the water when it is sunny and beautiful than when it is foggy and cold (the usual here in San Francisco).

I am amazed at some of the older women I swim with. I am one of the "kids" in comparison--many of them are in their 70's and 80's, but here they come, a few of them as many as five days a week to swim. They are beautiful and totally without a hint of self consciousness regarding their bodies.

"My arthritis doesn't hurt so much when I move," says one. "I like the way I feel when I am done with my swim--it fills me with energy," says another. The voices are full of cheer as they enter the locker room and call out their greetings, and as the answers come back. "Good morning, ladies!" "Hey, sweetie, great to see you here today!" There is a wonderful energy of community, and shared anticipation that fills the locker room. No one cares what anyone looks like and that is tremendously liberating. They do notice new bathing suits, and make the appropriate comments of admiration, but there's a remarkable lack of cattiness that I find utterly refreshing. The first time I came to the pool, I was amazed at how "at ease" they all seemed to be in their bodies. No matter what their shape or size, whether tall and slender or sort and squat, they are beautiful women and I have come to admire them so much. They are helping me "get over" myself, and I am grateful. When I think of not going to the pool, I think of these women who are so eager to swim, and tell myself, "you have no excuse, girlfriend!"

How beautiful they all look, with their bathing caps on, their cute little swim shoes, and glowing smiles on their faces. One lady who must be in her late 60's had on a pretty wrap for her hair, a la Betty Grable. She looks like an old school movie star, in her leopard print bathing suit. She elegantly makes her way to the side of the pool, grabs a kick board, and launches into the water. There are some older gentlemen as well who swim, too. Some of them work hard to energetically swim as many laps as they can. Others make no bones about the fact that their real reason to be at the pool is to socialize with their friends (and possibly girl-watch?).

There is one man who is a very serious swimmer, who reminds me of my friend Stephen--at least what I imagine Stephen might look like in 20 years or so. He's very fit, and muscular, and is an incredible athlete, even though he's got to be at least 70 if he's a day. You'd never know how old he was if you could watch him swim (and if you didn't see the grooved laugh lines on his face). He's a dynamo! This gentleman has the same facial shape as my friend and when he smiles, he exudes kindness that seems heartfelt and genuine. When I see him, the strong resemblance makes me sad, momentarily, but I push away the feeling. This gentleman has seen me swimming for months now, and has been kind enough to try to encourage me, inquiring as to how many laps I'm doing. He loves swimming and loves to encourage those who are just starting out.

There's a common grace all of us are sharing, the kind of benevolence that God pours out where "His mercies are over all His works." It's a gorgeous day, and unseasonably warm and beautiful. What a gift! I'm especially recognizing this today and praying for blessing on these dear folks.

A Perfectly Beautiful Saturday

After an incredibly grueling week, we were given a perfectly beautiful Saturday as a gift from heaven. Since I was up early, I headed to the pool, while my husband got some well deserved rest. Swimming always seems to help me feel better physically, and while I've set myself a six month goal of 50 miles in the pool, I'm not trying to be insane about this. But up I was and so I went swimming.

It's hilarious to me to see some of these young guys at the pool, who are in the medium lane when they should be in the fast lane. They thrash and flail and try to look as impressive as they can while they are swimming but some of them aren't much on endurance. I'm not built for speed, but I am growing in strength. One of these fellows looked at me in amazement when I kept going easily after he stopped. Who knew I'd ever be able to do anything like this?

It was a gorgeous sunny day, and very warm here in San Francisco, and after our breakfast, we took our walk by the water. Practically everyone had the same idea--it's warm, let's hit the beach! In addition there was a community beach cleanup event and the ROTC kids from Balboa high school were marching together with their advisers. In short, people were everywhere! Thankfully, Steve's parking karma kicked in so we easily found a spot, and it wasn't long before we were sitting at the top, at the Land's end overlook, with a gorgeous view of the Golden Gate bridge. We talked and people watched and then Steve surprised me.

We drove towards Half Moon Bay, and Steve borrowed a great idea from our friend Bill--we went to the Fitzgerald Marine Preserve to see the tide pools. We hadn't been there since our kids were young and it sounded perfect to me. Beautiful weather, clear skies and warm, too. We didn't time it properly so the tide pools were covered with water, but in the water, playing around were a bunch of seals. They were having a great time, and we were enjoying their antics a great deal, when our friends found their way to the marine preserve and we got to hang out with them a little while.

Our stomach clocks had gone off, so we decided to continue our drive, but got as far as Princeton by the Sea, and saw that the road to Half Moon Bay was clogged with traffic. Not our idea of a good time. So.... we turned into Princeton by the sea and we found that the fishing boats were in. We did a little exploring and ended up seeing some beautiful, fresh Dover Sole. Someone asked the guys on the boat if they had been up since early in the morning. "We've been up for three days!," one of them said, flashing a big grin.

Oh those fish were beautiful. So beautiful that we were suddenly thinking of dinner. We picked out a beautiful Dover Sole and the guys bagged it up for us with ice. Then we walked it over to this place where they will clean your fish and fillet it for you for a mere $3.00. That's definitely a bargain as far as I am concerned. Cleaning fish is a really messy business, and would put you off actually eating fish unless you had a strong constitution. So with our prize fillets in hand, we made our way home. We both were glad that this particular fish didn't "just keep swimming."
It was the best fish I've had in a very long time, and certainly the freshest. This might turn my husband into a fish lover!

You've got to start sometime!

When I was in high school, the one class I absolutely loathed was gym class (This is not counting Mrs. Y's algebra class, of course--she put me off math for years!). Whydid you loathe PE, you ask? Our gym teacher kept trying to get me to do things that my body simply wasn't designed to do! Running isn't easy for a person with one leg a bit shorter than the other, so I was always one of the last runners trying to do the mile without keeling over. It wasn't much help that I had chronic asthma and bronchitis at that point in my life, either. Nope, running wasn't so good to me. Gymnastics? I loved the uneven parallel bars, but as for the rest of it, who could do it? Skinny little girls who took gymnastics, that's who. Sadly, this didn't even begin to fit my physical description. There were only two things from my gym classes that I really loved: folk dancing and swimming. We had opportunities to do both for gym that were tantalizing and all too brief for my taste.

There's a pool not too far from my house here in San Francisco, and my doctor suggested that I try swimming while I was recovering from a foot injury. The first time I found it hard to do ten laps in an hour. That was about 2 years ago. Now, I'm able to swim a mile in an hour (that's 36 laps back and forth in our pool), which truly amazes me.

I love the water--I love the feeling I get as I move through one stroke at a time. It is one of the most wonderful feelings in the world. It feels free, and it feels so joyous--something I was meant to do. I don't feel out of shape and overweight in the least when I'm swimming. Now, if my gym teacher had been smart and really wanted to help, she would have said to herself, "OK, we aren't going to make a gymnast of her, but she loves folk dancing (even if she is a klutz) and she is a fairly good swimmer. Why don't we let the girl just keep swimming?"

Hence the name of my blog. This is a celebration of sorts and I hope that the words that I write will encourage you to get off your chair and into the pool. Or to go on, take that dance class already, get off your chair, dear couch potato and just get moving while you can! I've discovered that there's a freedom that comes from getting over yourself and just getting in the pool. Who cares how you look in that bathing suit? If you are lap swimming, no one, I repeat no one gives a rip about how you look. Lap swimmers only care about how many laps they can complete before the whistle blows. That's the truth!

So here's to freedom of all kinds. Especially the kind that let's you know that because of Y'shua, the label "fat girl" isn't an eternal one. Yes, Y'shua. Because Y'shua, the Jewish Messiah is the one who lovingly prodded me to get into the pool, using my hilarious doctor to do it. While Dr. "S" may have made the suggestion, Y'shua gave me the shove into the waters. And like every step of faith, this one has brought some new things that have been unexpected and delightful, but not always easy.