This morning’s swim, my last in Florida before I head back home to Washington, was unexpectedly fabulous.
I’ve been swimming with the New Port Richey, Fla., masters team, which meets at the city’s recreation center at 5:30 a.m. weekday mornings. Today was the first day I made it to the pool for the very beginning of the 5:30 a.m. workout, and it was a hot one. How hot? When I opened the door to my parents’ house at 5:15 a.m., I felt wave of sticky heat gush in. The pool temp was 91 degrees, even with an aerator spitting cold water in to cool it down. The coach warned us to take it easy.
I really intended to. But you know how you have those days when you just need to run, or swim, or lift something out? When you feel like your workout is the only thing in the world in your control, and you just have to take it by the reins and kick your own butt?
It was one of those days today. So I swam the warmup easy, and then swam out my frustration and heartache and other emotions on several sets of 75s, which somehow, didn’t get boring at all.
1,600 warmup: 400 pull, 400 swim, repeat
12X 75 swim: Free, stroke, free
I felt so good at the end, I added:
8 X 100, choice (free, or stroke, or whatever)
Next up: Deciding whether to run with Pacers tomorrow night, my first night back home. I’ve been laying off for the past couple week, as I’ve needed some time to nurse my stubbornly sore hip. But a quick run on the beach went fabulously well yesterday morning, so I’m pondering the possibility of getting back into my routine. Wish me luck!