One of the weekly sessions I used to do through the winter several years ago involved very little effort. I was training to swim the English Channel and every Wednesday evening I would make a simple immersion on a boat slipway of a lake. My friends and I would sit or stand in the dark, shoulders under water and talk about our training or anything that came to mind, When it stopped being fun, we got out – usually around 20 – 30 minutes depending on conditions.
One frosty night the lake had some ice already in the middle but not too close to the slipway. My friend was wetsuited, I was not. As we got in, I noticed that the water was a bit like silk on the skin. Not quite crystalized yet but unlike the usual sensation. We sat on the ramp, shoulders immersed and watched the ice slowly creep toward us. It was bizarre. Full moon, clear sky and stars out which in our locality was often not seen given the size of the city and the light pollution. Eventually we decided to get out, the ice now was less than half a metre from us. We joked how we might end up frozen in place – a macabre find for the early morning dog walkers.
After changing at our cars, we went back to the lake edge. The small area of water where we had been had the reflection of the moon shimmering on it. In those few seconds we watched it freeze solid. I felt it to be something special, magical even. It was a tipping point, one of millions that in our lives we miss most of the time. We’ve all seen ice on a puddle or pond, but to feel it, to see the moment of change from liquid to solid. We know that the seasons change, that winter can have it’s last gasp of chill before the spring sunshine suddenly warms us cheerily. The blaze of summer can torture those toiling in humid sunshine with welcome relief of a thunderstorm providing a deluge. Late Autumn warmth disappears with a change of the wind. We are used to this, it is usual and the way of things.
In our bodies we grow, age, become stronger or more infirm. Injuries can result from over exertion or accidental trauma. They will heal eventually, limping one day back running the next. Maybe one day we don’t get to run anymore. There is uncertainty and I have had it many times after some sudden calamity. We know consistent training can produce improvement and that it is rarely linear -more like a wave with crests and troughs. Even those are small systems within a bigger tidal concern of our aging. We have to navigate according to our experience or blindly strive out towards our ambitions. I’m trying to notice in my own experience the tipping point of many things. Too much, too little, too soon and too late are happening whether we notice, like or consider them. Things change continually. Be ready for it.
See you down the road.
Dan
