I have embarked on a new and dangerous adventure….I have
started swimming as my cardio routine!!
Now before you get all impressed that I’m doing the “best cardio”
possible- let me fill you in on the context.
I’m getting old
and my body is falling apart.
There is a very strong chance that I will be walking with a cane by 2015, and using a walker by 2017. Sorry husband- I know that’s not exactly the image
of a “young hip wife”… but I’ll be young in spirit!!! Assuming it’s before my 8:30pm bedtime.
Since any other type of physical exercise causes some pretty
severe back pain for me, I succumbed to the idea of swimming for exercise.
I was
dreading it because I know enough about it to know this much:
It’s exhausting.
It works all of your body so there are no “easy” days.
I have to go for periods of time where I am literally holding my
breath.
I have to wear a swimsuit.
I can’t listen to music.
I have to swim back and forth and back and forth and back and forth…
can we say boredom??
But regardless, about 3 weeks ago, I joined the local pool
and started swimming. And then proceeded
to wish I had told my husband I loved him that morning as the tragedy of death
by drowning became a very real and obvious threat.
1st week- 1st day:
I. almost. died. And gave
up. And then began to hate the existence of water.
But I kept going by the grace of God…. And as I swam laps, I
started coming up with any and every thought possible to distract me from the
imminent threat of drowning. (By “swam laps” I mean, swam a lap, gasped for
breath for 2 minutes, and then crossed back over, to gasp again.)
I sang the first verse of Amazing Grace about 4,283 times-
for some reason that was the only song that I could remember every single word
while trying to not die… Odd, I know. I thought of every Bible verse I have
ever learned, including some phrases that I turned into Bible verses. (I’m
blaming lack of oxygen to the brain).
I told myself stories…. I told myself I was
swimming for Nemo… I thought about what the other swimmers must
be like in “real life.” … Anything.
And I kept looking forward to that glorious blue mark on the
wall. Because I knew if I could only make it to that wall, I would get to stop
swimming and breathe for a minute. That was
my finish line. My end goal. My
target.
And yet, the wall always seemed so far away. More than once, I would stop and tread water half-way
there because I just couldn’t seem to make it.
And then this past week, I changed one thing… which has
changed everything.
I didn’t look
towards the wall as I swam.
I didn’t try to count the seconds until reaching the wall, I
just focused on the swim. The floor of the pool is lined with a row of blue
blocks in the middle of your lane so you know if you’re swimming straight. Those
blue blocks became my focus and my target. I made sure I was swimming straight,
and that was it. I didn’t look for the wall. I didn’t strain for the finish
line. I just kept swimming. (Finding Nemo reference- anyone?)
And a surprising thing happened. I made it. I didn’t stop half-way. I didn’t die. And I actually swam a bit faster.
All because I
focused on my path.
Now I realize this goes against every sport analogy for
finishing strong possible. “Visualize the finish line!” “Shoot for the goal!” “Keep
the end in mind!”
But sometimes, just sometimes, the finish line is just a bit
too far. A bit too overwhelming. A bit too hard. We start to drown. We start to
give-up. We start to gasp.
And we stop.
So I changed. And in doing so, I found that for me, the best
way, and possibly the only way, is to swim
stroke by stroke and not lap by lap.
Sometimes our life is a swimming pool. The ability to make it through the
next 28 days seems as impossible as swimming 28 laps. We get half-way through,
2 weeks in, and we start to gasp; to give up; to drown.
So we stop.
Isaiah 40:29-31 has become such a comfort because the
promise to be able to soar is beautiful, but sometimes that seems
incomprehensible. So I cling to the promise to walk.
He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of
the weak. Even youths grow tired and
weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will
renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and
not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.
So I walk, step by step. Focusing on the path that He has
lit** and not the finish line that’s miles away. And one day, I’ll look up, and
I’ll have made it. I didn’t stop half-way. I didn’t die. And I actually walked
a bit faster.
Because I kept swimming, I’ve learned to keep walking.
**Ps 119:105 Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.