Let’s be honest. People who rise at 4:30 a.m. and are ready to go swimming by 5:15 a.m. have to be a little weird.
Okay, maybe not terminally weird, like send in the white coats and you get a little room with no sharp edges, but think on this . . . 99 percent of the world is still asleep at that hour. They may, or may not, be the sane ones.
I’m one of the one percenters. The car pool to the pool is my lifeline. Someone waiting on me to come out the front door is the only reason I swim from 6 a.m. to 7 a.m. three times a week.
Let to my own devices, and my lack of inner discipline, there is no way that I’d be up, alive (barely), in a swimsuit and gym bag over my shoulder ready to say ”good morning, sunshine” to the face in the mirror.
But three times a week I say “good morning sunshine” to my car pool pals. It’s a running joke. Where’s the sunshine? It’s pitch dark. We are the sunshine.
Off we go, to Central Florida Community College pool in Ocala, Florida. Often we listen to Moody radio, 91.9 FM, where they’ll give you the news at the top of the hour and the Bible verse for the day in the same breath.
Sometimes there is a forum, three people energetically discussing a topic. It must be prerecorded. They can’t actually be that perky at 5:30 a.m.
My personal favorite so far is the morning they discussed how disadvantaged the English language is because we only have one word for love. The Eskimos have at least 14 different words for snow – – dirty snow, fresh snow, old snow. You get the idea. And the Greeks had words for different kinds of love — a parent’s love for a child, a friend’s love for a friend.
But we’re really limited — one word, love, with many shades of meaning. Sometimes we’re afraid to use it at all, thinking it will be misinterpreted and how are we to understand verses such as “God so loved the world he gave his only begotten son.” These are things to think about while doing laps.
Then we arrive at the pool. Gym bags and gear totes are hauled out of cars. The nice warm bed we left behind becomes a dim memory.
Stripped down to bathing suits, standing at the pool’s edge, we wait for coach to write our masters workout on the board.
Did you know masters are anyone over the age of 20? It is quite a shock for high school and college standout swimmers to show up for a masters workout and see people in their 40s, 50s and 60s. Why, that is so ooooooooold.
Yet here we are, somehow equalized by our desire to swim better, faster, further, one stroke at a time.
A toe is poked in the water, then the pronouncement, warm or cold. Some dive in, others walk in. And so it begins. The workout. Your choice, buoy, kick, no freestyle. So many of this and that. One lap after another.
The sky is inky blue black. Lights are on. The water has a liquid velvet feel. Initial kinks are overcome after a few laps and the rhythm sets in. Stroke. Stroke. Touch the wall, turn, and swim the other way. Laps add up. Sometimes I lose count.
I know my lane. It is the slow lane, way over by the gutter. Don’t even think about getting near the fast swimmers; just get out of their way. They’ll be doing 2500 yards and asking for more. I’ll be lucky to make 1700 on a good day.
Gradually the sky turns puffy blue. In the east, the sun starts to rise. There’s no fanfare, no brass band. Daybreak is always a surprise and a blessing. It happens quietly, like a cat softly padding into a room, somewhere around 1200 yards.
Sunlight dances in the pool water and reflects off the bottom. Colors change. Birds fly overhead. Clouds turn white, their edges sharp now against blue sky.
The workout can call for full intensity laps. Coach likes heavy breathing, as long as someone else is doing the heavy breathing. What’s with that?
He actually smiles and says ‘now that is what I like to see’ when you pop up red in the face and breathing hard after a full out lap.
Then it’s over. Workout done. Time to leave. We’re reluctant to get out of the pool. One last lap, backstroke, looking up at the sky. What a great way to start the day. Thank you, Lord.
Occasionally we go for coffee afterwards. We’ll see someone we know and they’ll say ‘wow, you all are up early’. We say we’ve been swimming for an hour already.
‘So early in the morning? You must be crazy,’ they reply, shaking their heads and moving away. Working out so early in the morning could be contagious.
Yep. We swim and get to see the sun rise. Crazy and cool at the same time. Join us. Get up early. Dive in! The water is so fine.
© 2006 Lucy Beebe Tobias, all rights reserved. Lucy Beebe Tobias is a freelance writer, photographer and artist. She lives in Ocala.