A little more like zen

This morning the sun shines as the curtains are drawn and the bedroom window opened to let in the cool fragrance of the country air. In the garden a blackbird splashes in the birdbath and the cock pheasant and his wife stroll between the rabbits in the field beyond. On such a spring morning it is good to be alive. Health is such a precious and often precarious gift. Breakfast is cream cheese and smoked salmon on rye toast with a hint of lemon juice and cracked black pepper. The food and the aroma of the filter coffee assault my senses, now at last, freed from the taste of catarrh. Wash and dress and then drive to Cherry Burton to take Louis to school. He has had a bath this morning and his skin and hair shine with health. After dropping him off, walk the dogs down the Hudson Way, the weather remains bright and dry but there is a cool wind. The hawthorn trees are almost ready to blossom, another week at the most, and the hedges are alive with birdsong. Oh to be in England now that spring is here. Walking back to Cherry resolve to mow the lawns for my wife if it stays dry, and hope to still have enough energy to swim afterwards.
It stays dry, the lawns are mowed, and I arrive at the pool at eleven thirty still strong enough to train. In the pool some lanes have been roped off and one, designated the fast lane, has only one other swimmer, who leaves as I climb in. This looks like one of those days when all the traffic lights turn green! Nevertheless with only four days left to train and recover some condition before the Swimathon, I resolve to use the good fortune to best effect. This means concentrating on maintaining my thirteen stroke bilateral breathing pattern, but to ensure I don't become too tired, decide to break the swim into a series of 500m repeats, (20 lengths). This will allow me to take on water and clear any deep phlegm loosened by the exercise from my recent illness. The plan works well and the thirteen stroke pattern is maintained for 1800m, only on the last eight lengths of the fourth 500m repitition, does the stroke count slip to fourteen. Unlike yesterday, my lungs are sufficiently clear that it is possible to still hold the tumble turn without too much discomfort. The training is also much more fluent today and there were no distractions. The work completed, swum a further twenty lengths for fun, in a mixture of strokes. Some days conditions are good other days not so good. One learns to enjoy the good and endure the bad, in any event they change and pass away of their own accord.