There is something transcendent about swimming for me - i really don't know how else to describe it. Maybe it's due to the fact the the medium i'm moving through is pretty much - to within a few percent on either side, depending on the state of inflation in my lungs -, the exact average density of my body.
But maybe it's just because i have the sense of moving through something, period. Of course i move through the gasses that make up our atmosphere all the time, but it's not the same. There is a greater notion of 'passage' in water. The only thing similar on land must be bushwacking - which is slower, far less pleasant, definitely less fluid, and often painful. But it does share the fact that after i've climbed out of a trailless valley and stand on a knoll looking back at my journey i don't just think, "look how far i've come", I think "look what i've come through!"
And water has texture, taste. It feels slippery, cool, and everything changes with every stroke - pockets with temperature gradient, auditory changes at each breath, and alternating views of the two halves of the world - the infinitude of the sky (clouds, sun, distant horizons) and hidden mysteries of the sea, passing by in the thin window of visibility it offers.
this was my thought yesterday, looking back acrossed the lake to the point from which i'd set out 30 minutes earlier, that of coming 'through'.
Alas, today i'll be setting points for the 24 hour race up in Pembina, moving through once again, but this time ending up with decidedly more scratches.