Back in the Pool

by Caz Makepeace on March 25, 2011

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The cold water didn’t bother me, nor did the suction of the goggles trying to suck out my eyes. I knew that when I took them off I would have great big red owl welts around them, but I didn’t care.

I was back in the pool. I can’t even remember the last time I lost myself to the languid motion of gliding along the top of the water.

Savouring each stroke of the arm.

The slow lane was busy and full of grey haired men, so my only option was the medium lane with the serious-capped swimmer doing her laps. Thankfully she was backstroking it which meant my pace didn’t have to be super fast.

Because, I just don’t do super fast swimming. I do slow swimming.

I hit my first two laps and already my arms started to feel heavy. It has been a long time. I’m pregnant and unfit. But, I’ve made a decision that doesn’t have to be an excuse as to why I can’t get back into shape. It’s all the more reason to.

Walking the Bondi to Coogee Beach Coastal Walk last weekend was a horrible reminder to me just how unhealthy and flabby I have become. I looked with green envy at those girls with washboard stomachs and pert breasts bounding up and down the stairs while my breathing was laboured and sharp just walking up them. And let’s not even go there with the breasts and stomach. I used to be so fit, strong and healthy.

I allowed busy work schedules to keep me at my desk rather than to push my body.  I made a pact along that coastal path, that health needs to become a priority.

And here I am. Yoga this morning, swimming laps this afternoon. None of it feeling like a chore but a liberation.

Photo: Brad Cross

Before I know it I’ve hit 10 laps and despite my tiredness, I am feeling good. I’m sure baby is loving the gentle rocking motion.

My mind starts to drift away and I find myself back in the outdoor pool in Bangkok. My escape from the busy, polluted streets that so blackened and thickened my lungs. When breathing for me became stretched, I would head to the pool to clear the gunk from my lungs and the gunk from my head.

Stroke after stroke, lap after lap. Sometimes Craig would join me, but he hated the tediousness that came with swimming. I love the relaxation that comes with it. Little pain but great reward.

“Just one more lap. you can do it.”

Always my swimming mantra. Usually it pushes me to effortlessly make a kilometre, with barely a pause for a catch of breath.

Today, I make half a kilometre, with plenty of pauses to slow down my rasping breath. I scare the man in the lane next to me as he also stops for air. He didn’t expect dragons to pop up beside his ear.

Enough for today, my first swim in years. I don’t want to over push it. I have someone else to think of right now.

Bugger. I don’t even have the strength to climb out of the pool- or maybe it is just the growing bump getting in the way.