Early morning Barton Spring swim report

Much of what I do on the way to the pool is ritual, or perhaps I mean robotic: the same steps without much thought. I walk the long sloping way down to the water. I set my bag in the same spot, doff my outer layer, suit up, wade into the water to my waist. Then I psych myself up; then I jump into the air and think, “It’s too late to turn back!” and fall into the water. The amount of time it takes me to psych myself up varies, but I’m not sure what changes it. Thinking about other things. Weather. General absentmindedness. This morning I took longer than usual, but I did it, jumped in the air, thought, “It’s too late to turn back!”, hit the water, & only then realized that for the first time in 2 1/2 years, I had forgotten to put on my goggles. So I turned back, and, goggled, turned back again and I swam.

When I was done, one of the Egyptian geese, who I have no reason to distrust, was in my way by the ramp I (ritualistically; robotically) use to leave. I distrusted it. I gave it a wide berth and crawled painfully onto the deck early instead of taking a gentle slope.

No metaphors in here. Or else it’s all metaphors.

I’m absentminded for a lot of reasons. Very various. I am also taking the pool’s imminent two week annual closure for cleaning very hard. I’ll swim in a heated pool at my local Y during that time, which takes no psyching up whatsoever, invites no waterfowl, causes me no reason to worry, does not make me dream, makes for a very poor daily report altogether.