Water
Walk. Pause. Walk. Pause. Sand or sometimes stones; sand much easier, stone offering a greater promise of variety. The depth grows beyond ankles and knees; the walk becomes a wade. The involuntary tiptoe as the water reaches that height; the sharp intake of breath no matter the temperature; the final lunge plunge to flotation. The hard conformity of concrete floors and the Star Trek whoosh of automatic doors. A heady chemical brew is replaced by a fresh air; cool and light. Familiar faces on the pool deck and in the lanes. The single step over the poolside edge; under water in a single stride. The routine of a double leg lift that lets the water reach over my head. Spit and wash the glass of the mask. Sit or float to pull on the fins. Swim fast to warm up. Blow hard from the second water shock, pushing choking splashes from the snorkel. Dunk the goggles in water and shake off the excess drops. Pull the elastic high on my ...