Returning to Swimming in the Atlantic
A few weeks ago, I went ocean swimming.
That may not sound like much, except that I had not swum in the Atlantic for over two decades.
I learned to swim in the ocean as a child. Not in a swimming pool. In the Atlantic. The rough North Atlantic. The kind with rocks, tides, currents, fishermen, and weather that can change its mood very quickly.
Pool swimming and sea swimming are not the same thing. A pool is controlled. The Atlantic is not.
The first time I returned to the water, I did not know if I would actually swim. I sat by the surf. Let the water reach me. Then walked in. Then, at some point, I was swimming.
The knowledge was still there. Not competitive swimming knowledge. Not sports club knowledge. Sea knowledge.
A few days later, I returned. The tide was higher. The waves were stronger. I stayed close to shore. Swam a little. Watched the water. Learned the beach.
Then, last week, I went back again.
I arrived early morning. There was almost nobody there. Just a father and son, fully dressed. Later, a fisherman appeared. We spoke for a while. He was concerned I might enter the water while the tide was still strong.
I didn't. I waited. The tide lowered. The sea softened. A few more people arrived. Then I swam.
Three swims in two weeks may not seem much. Yet, after more than twenty years away from ocean swimming, it's meaningful.
What surprised me most was not that I could still swim. It was what happened afterwards.
My joints became more flexible. My movements became easier. My body felt more agile. The change began after the first swim. Perhaps that should not surprise me.
Ocean swimming uses the whole body. It demands attention. There is no divided focus in the Atlantic. No scrolling, no multitasking, no drifting elsewhere mentally.
You are there or you are not. The sea asks for presence. That is part of why it feels so different from a swimming pool. The Atlantic is not recreation to me. It is part of the landscape of my life.
My paternal grandparents lived by the sea. My parents met in Foz. Some of my earliest memories belong to that coastline.
[painting: Penelope and the Ducks - Underwater Woman: Swimming In The Sea]
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