Back when I struggled with finding the time to exercise, I would never have thought that someday I'd be swimming laps twice a week.
Point one: I wasn't a very good swimmer. (Lessons took care of that problem.)
The bigger point, the one I thought was a major obstacle: Swimming isn't exactly a simple operation. You can't just put on your shoes and run out the door or hop on a bike, and be done with your workout when you get back. You can't improvise equipment from household materials like you can with weight training (unless you have a lap pool in your back yard). You can't put The Machine in your rec room in front of the TV and slip in a three-miler while your kids nap.
Instead, you've got to get yourself to the pool and change before you can even get started. And when you're done, the shower and change isn't optional. And you've got to get back.
CJ at Light and Momentary (writing about exercise during pregnancy, specifically with a heart arrhythmia) summed The Problem With Swimming quite well:
If I can run without harming the baby, that's my first choice. Life is really busy, and running allows me to get 30 minutes of exercise in 30 minutes. Swimming is nice and will be my next choice if I decide to go unmedicated, but I have to drive to the pool, get changed, swim, get changed, drive home. Getting 30 minutes of exercise takes more like 60 minutes if I'm swimming.
She's right about the time, of course. It's the same for me. 40 minutes of swimming = 65 or 70 minutes total. And it's been more lately; our local Y has been closed for remodeling, so I'm driving 15 minutes extra each way to get to a different one. This week they'll both be closed, and I'll be driving 30 minutes extra once.
Which is why I've been surprised to discover that I enjoy the extra time that the swimming workout takes.
Granted, I have cheerful, enthusiastic support from Mark, who sometimes has to watch the kids when MJ is refusing to stay in the child care facility at the Y. That helps. I wouldn't enjoy the extra time if I thought it was taking away from my family.
But given that, I do enjoy it. Even the extra commute I've had for the last few weeks.
The time of leaving the house, of driving, of driving home brackets the workout. I have that time to get into the workout frame of mind. Sometimes I trudge out to my van thinking Urgh, I just don't feel like I'm going to enjoy it today. I hit the garage door opener, turn the key, put on some music. A few minutes pass; I start to be aware of my own self, my intent. No one is yelling MOM, none of the reminders of Things I Have To Do are there. It takes a few minutes of aloneness to remind me that the time I spend swimming -- and the time I spend getting to the pool and getting ready to swim -- is time that is a marvelous gift. From me to myself and especially from my husband to me (since he's home with the kids).
Getting to the locker room, disrobing, putting on the suit (and don't I look better in the suit these days? I get to say to myself) -- all those steps make up a transition, a ritual, a marker. Leaving the rest of my life for a moment, getting into the water. I've learned not to stand in the cold water shivering and getting up the nerve. I've learned to jump right in and start swimming.
When I'm done, there's the showering and getting dressed, returning to real life; another soft transition. When I walk across the dark yard towards the lit windows, and I can see my children lined up at the kitchen counter eating their bedtime snack while my husband unloads the dishwasher, I'm glad to be home and so thankful for everything. It's a little retreat and a happy return.
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