Mornings here seem to be back on track! After rising, engaging in claw sharpening activities, and waiting patiently while the morning meal is prepared, The Boarder takes in enough nutrition to help with my conditioning program. In which I walk back and forth (zone 1), and work on flexibility bending down (and or over) and getting down on my knees stretching and reaching under furniture — all to find/pick up the ball we're playing with. And it's a good thing, because I flaked out yesterday in terms of "real exercise". I did, however, manage a laundry marathon.
The temperatures are bobbling around here — inside and out. Sunday night I walked into the pool building and my glasses fogged up. Once they were clear, I walked into the change room and they fogged up again. The locker room had been frigid earlier in the season — suddenly it was masquerading as a sauna! So much so that after my swim, as I put my clothes on, great beads of water were forming on my person, and although I had dried my hair, rivulets streamed down my face!
While I didn't get to the pool yesterday, I did do some Internet Surfing and Endurance Dreaming. An article on the Masters Swimming Canada web site by Mark Gallop describing his experience island hopping in Greece — swimming from island to island! It didn't take me long to scoot over to the Swim Trek site. And suddenly, the romantic in me was inspired — to swim the Hellespont of Leander, Alexander and Byron!! Maybe in 2010? To quote someone I know well, "We all need goals ..."
If, in the month of dark December,
Leander, who was nightly wont
(What maid will not the tale remember?)
To cross thy stream, broad Hellespont!
If, when the wintry tempest roared,
He sped to Hero, nothing loath,
And thus of old thy current poured,
Fair Venus! how I pity both!
For me, degenerate modern wretch,
Though in the genial month of May,
My dripping limbs I faintly stretch,
And think I've done a feat today.
But since he crossed the rapid tide,
According to the doubtful story,
To woo -and -Lord knows what beside,
And swam for Love, as I for Glory;
'Twere hard to say who fared the best:
Sad mortals! thus the gods still plague you!
He lost his labour, I my jest;
For he was drowned, and I've the ague.
— Swimming the Hellespont, Lord Byron
Map credit: Macrohistory