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speakup

On the first day, I felt weightless. On the second, euphoric. But on the third day, I was thrashing through the water like a fish chasing an elusive lure.

I went back to the pool this week.

I'm swimming for exercise but my membership card at the YMCA means more than that. The icy streets aren't melting and the frigid winter air refuses to lift from our region, even though it is spring. My membership card signals that I've had enough; that a new season has arrived, and with it a new resolve to shake off winter's lethargy.

Besides, the pool was beckoning me. I've exercised in other facilities and swum in other pools, but I've not enjoyed any of them as much as the YMCA pool.

Driving by the building I'd find myself imagining being inside, soaking up both sun and water as I exercised mind, body and spirit.

Swimming does that for me. There's something about the methodic strokes that clear my head and restore my soul. I can think about nothing, I can think grand spiritual thoughts or I can simply put order to my daytimer all in the span of a 30-minute swim.

At least, that's what happens on most days.

I'm still in the early stages of my resumed relationship with the pool and like a friend of mine who's recently begun a romantic relationship; I can't get enough of the object of my affection.

Everything seems brighter when I'm at the pool. This is especially easy to imagine at the Y pool, which is surrounded by floor to ceiling windows. On a sunny day, you can almost imagine you're in Cancun with the sunlight streaming across your shoulders and the water turning azure blue (thanks to the tint in my goggles).

I had a near perfect swim on Monday. The aforementioned goggles were the only hitch. They kept filling with water and threatening to float my contact lenses. But once I found their perfect adjustment, I was able to slip into a comfortable breaststroke, move easily into a front crawl when I wanted to pick up the speed, then shift back when I needed to breathe more slowly.

On Monday, I could literally feel the stress washing away from my muscles. Swimming does that for me. I always wonder, once I'm back in it, why I'd abandoned the pool in the first place.

Tuesday was even better than Monday. Like my love-struck friend, I couldn't wait to be back in the embrace of my own new soul mate. Anticipation fuels euphoria for me, but so does pride. And on Tuesday, I was proud of myself for swimming two days in a row (I know, it doesn't take much!).

But all good things must trickle to an end and our first little spat bubbled up on Wednesday, which was one of those days when there just aren't enough hours to accomplish every task demanding attention.

I'd written my pool date in my daytimer, then shifted it back a couple of hours so I could finish a project I was working on. The phone kept ringing, e-mails kept popping up on my screen and the project refused to work itself out in an orderly fashion.

My morning pool appointment drifted to 2 p.m. At 1:45, I began to wonder if I should cancel altogether and just keep working. As 2 p.m. arrived, I decided in favour of the pool, even though I had to phone a colleague and plead a 15 minute extension to our 3 p.m. meeting.

I raced to the pool, stripped off my clothes, pulled on my bathing suit and fought to cram my hair into the latex bathing cap (which always brings a certain sad reality to my swim -- you can't possibly be in Cancun if you're wearing a bathing cap).

Once in the pool, I was off like that fish that can't keep its eyes off the fishing lure speeding along a couple of centimetres in front of its nose. I barrelled through the water, trying to get as many laps in as possible. I had only 25 minutes for this day's dalliance. So much for stress release.

I was moving with such focussed determination that I nearly ran over a fellow swimmer. He pulled aside just in time and graciously forgave my misdemeanor. And that slowed me down.

For the last 15 minutes of my swim, I reverted to the steady breast stroke, breathing prayers in and out as I slipped through the water. I've discovered that praying and swimming go together. There's something otherworldly about swimming, all that water lifts you beyond the gravity of this planet.

I've another date with the pool today, one which I suspect will grant me euphoria rather than stress. I was out of town on Thursday so I've been away from the pool for a day. Absence does make the heart grow fonder.

Anyone in a new relationship knows that.

n Lynda MacGibbon is a writer living in Riverview. Her column appears on Fridays and she can be reached at lynda@nbnet.nb.ca