Equilibrium

After jumping into the covered pool in Segovia this morning it occurred to me that I miss my old pool. I miss standing on the edge, looking at the water, and dreading the first frigid shock after jumping in. I miss diving in, head first, and feeling the familiar buoyancy of my body in the cold water. I miss the walls, the flags, the funny non-pattern of the tiles. I miss the familiarity of the lane lines and the positioning of the clocks. I miss the taste of the water and the height of the blocks. 

And I miss the early mornings and late nights. I miss the echoing voices of my teammates and the shouts for quiet from my coaches. I miss the pre-meet pep talks and next morning reflection. I miss looking at the day's practice and thinking "I can't do that" only to push of the wall and do it. 

There is nothing quite as meditative as swimming in the morning. And this week, my mourning swims have been absolutely glorious. I've managed to reach that point in my workouts that is the swimming equivalent of a runner's high. It's that weird balance between intense concentration and thoughtlessness. A meditative state that allows you to perform at your highest ability, yet remain completely relaxed. Your heart rate is reaching its limit, and you're exhausted, yet you're loose and buoyant in the water. And you're smiling. 

At some point in time I seem to have decided to call it "equilibrium" although I'm sure experts of the sports world have a better name for it.

Regardless, it's nice to become familiar with this sensation again, as I spent all of last year chasing it. It was a rough season, filled with low spots and negativity. The point of equilibrium eluded my during practices and during races. I don't think I have ever doubted my abilities more than I did then. I have never struggled more than I did then. 

So of course I would never trade that experience for anything. I didn't know it at the time, but the things I learned about myself and the skills I developed in the middle of my struggles are more valuable than anything I learned in my triumphs. And in a transition that is so obvious  I'm sure you all saw it coming, those skills, that knowledge, that self awareness is so important to me right now. So useful right now. And once having lost that ability to reach equilibrium in the pool, finding it again is a beautiful thing.

Even here, in Spain, during one of the scariest, most difficult, thrilling, and exciting situations I have ever put myself in, the world still stands still when I'm in the water. Just like it did during my old team's morning practices.  So tomorrow, in the pool, when I hit that sweat spot, when the world outside of the pool freezes and its just me, the water, and eternity, it will mean all the more to me. It's a reminder that I didn't come here unprepared.