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Philippe Garmy's avatar

This read was a lovely surprise. Thank you so much. It resonated deeply… For I too swim nonstop for an hour and 5 or 10 minutes every day, save the weekends. It’s part of me and I look forward to it everyday. In the summer months when I’m on the north Atlantic coast of Spain in Asturias, it’s an open ocean swim in 21 degree Celsius water (just shy of 70 degrees Fahrenheit). No wetsuit or fins needed. Just my swimming bonnet and goggles are used. And it’s 7 in the morning with nary a soul…it’s my morning prayer ritual, beginning with the sign of the cross, as I carefully make my way into the sea by foot, always surveying, assessing and observing the mood, rhythm and force of the sea, splashing past shore breaks and once safely clear, then plunging forward into the water and beginning my trek on past the final outside break. You immediately sense the power of nature enveloping you…it’s a force you’ve come to respect and learned to harness to your advantage. The saltwater helps with buoyancy as you now begin your nonstop swimming stroke, kick and breathing routine. Depending on the day and sea conditions, the next hour you are carried, pitched and rolled by currents, swells and wind, 200 or 300 meters offshore, depending on the tide. That solid hour is my prayer time as my breathing becomes more central and a conduit to my head, heart and soul reaching out in solemn prayer, my stroke and kick already syncopated and running on autopilot. I’ve intentionally drifted into a zone ready to commune with my Creator. I always begin with the Lords Prayer followed by either a makeshift yet meditative rosary or a penitential Jesus Prayer. Just the other day as I was finishing my hour swim, I was cycling through the Jesus Prayer and inadvertently spilled out in my head the word “swimmer” in place of “sinner”…

“Lord Jesus Christ, son of the Living God, have mercy on me, a swimmer….”

The pleasing irony and humour it fostered right then and there has since kept me all smiles and grins in joyous cheer, regardless of fog, rain or wind. The Cantabrian Sea is indeed a force to reckon with, her myriad moods and temperament change willy nilly, pell mell, and sans arrête…yet when the sea is calm, those open ocean summer swims have cast a spell on me unlike any hour in an indoor, heated pool in the throes of winter will ever do.

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Mike's avatar

Beautiful piece that certainly resonates with me.

I also swim 4-5 days a week during the summers for 45 minutes in a pond in Massachusetts, albeit a more crowded one than yours - Stiles Pond in Boxford, MA. It’s a similar ritual for me although the landmarks are different - a shed with a red door, a small curved bay, a shallow section where I can watch the fish playing and a single hidden boulder keeps me guessing as it looms up to meet me an inch or two below the waterline, and finally a small rocky islet half a mile across where I typically tread water for a few minutes before turning around. I’m no particularly strong swimmer either and I consistently pull a bit to the right, but somehow it’s a similar ritual for me that clears my mind and gives me space to think about things that otherwise don’t seem to enter my mind.

Winters are a depressing time, I’m not one for the pool. In April I get hopeful and start sticking my thermometer into the waters. By September I’m grieving. One last swim, usually in October, as the trees on the shoreline are turning and an occasional scarlet leaf floating on the surface reminds me it’s time to pack it in and hunker down.

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