The Hard Lengths

It's early, to early for

*the lazy, *

*the tired, *

*the not dedicated.*

You slip into the pool. The ice cold water parting to accept your entry. Its icy fingers caressing your skin like tiny needles causing you to shiver.

*This is what you expect,*

*this will be hard,*

*this is how it should be.*

You glide out into the empty turquoise blue water, your arms and legs taking over as your momentum slows. Quickly the bottom disappears from view and the rhythm of your stroke takes over.

*Stroke, breathe...*

*Stroke, breathe...*

*Stroke, breathe...*

A mile, 1609.34 meters, or in this case 64 lengths of a standard pool. This is the challenge you have set yourself. You choose breast stroke from your skills locker. Its a technique you know will give the best chance for you to complete your task. Its ungainly but efficient manner suited to the long distance and your own capabilities.

Turning at the the end of the first length you kick hard from the wall as that will make things easier, quicker. Your hopes fade with the momentum of the glide, this is your task and yours alone to do. The only person you are cheating is yourself. You will not kick off so hard again.

Hitting the wall at the end of the return length you count "4" in your mind. A mind fuck you'd learned to make the most mundane and stamina sapping task easier.

*Deconstruct it,*

*compartmentalise it,*

*think ahead. *

On the next return (4 lengths) it 's "6" in your mind, over half way to completing your first set. You never even acknowledged that mini milestone. Why would you? It's

*meaningless, *

*worthless, *

*nothing. *

On the next return (6 lengths) it 's "8" in your mind the end of the set is in sight...

On the next return (8 lengths) it 's the first milestone.... "10!" A sense of achievement is close. You quickly cover the distance between yourself and your goal.

You made it. You hit (10 Lengths) the little victory is however short lived. Resetting your goals, resetting the game, chastising yourself for thinking you'd

*achieved something, *

*you can rest, *

*you can take it easy.*

Heading back up the pool your body warmed up against the icy cold, muscles past the initial protest of exercise you beat out a familiar tattoo as you consume and spit out in your wake set after set.

**2-4-6-8-20**

Go again, your breathing becomes more labored

**2-4-6-8-30**

Go again, harder, your breathing plateaus you barely acknowledge the half way point in your swim.

**2-4-6-8-40**

Go again, harder still, your muscle memory takes over as your mind closes in on itself. You explore problems and ideas, find solutions all the while grinding out lap after lap to your goal.

**2-4-6-8-50**

A disruption!!! You sense it first, so in tune you are with your environment. Something has changed, you are not alone...

Your ears register a faint splashing, getting louder and louder. From out of the watery haze a shape forms and quickly a body of another swimmer comes into view.

*A Male, *

*younger, *

*fitter. *

His frame slicing through the water like a knife through butter. The sounds of his splashes announcing the faster stroke (Crawl).

You are Prey. He is in pursuit. You urge your body on, willing it to respond but its not ready, not yet time. The gap between predator and prey lessens....

At half a length the gap holds. As you pass you see its cause. He has over extended himself. The confident arcs of his arms propelling him through the water are replaced with labored ones.

*He's struggling,*

*he's in distress,*

*predator becomes prey.*

You close the gap easily, his action reduced to flaying arms. Your technique allowing the slower stroke to over take his. As you move out from his slip stream a smile on your lips you devour him and his pretensions at being in control whole. As he grasps the sides in defeat you push off again and this time you up the ante switching to crawl and powering away showing him how much more you have in the tank leaving him.

*Clinging to the side,*

*defeated, *

*broken,*

**2-4-6-8-60**

You alternate your stroke now. Up the pool is breast and down the pool is crawl. Your body protesting at the increase in tempo. Your defeated foe watching from the pool side, chatting to a couple of ladies that have come for a leisurely swim and gossip. How easily they are swayed by his looks and his youth. The sound of flirtatious giggles echo through the water as you briefly enter their domain for turn. You think to yourself how easily they are swayed by

*the superficial,*

*the banal*

*the average.*

Returning your focus to the task at hand You think to yourself as you start the final length of the set

*you've done 60, *

*you can stop, *

*you can rest.*

As you count in the last 10m...8...6...4...2m... to the wall, so close you scream to quiting, in you mind you silently scream **NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!**

Dragging yourself back from rest and failure into the final hard lengths...

**61 **You power off down the pool berating yourself for even considering settling.

**62 **You kick off and maintain a strong crawl. Your punishment for even considering taking a short cut.

**63 **You kick off again, arms screaming with pain as the lactic acid fills your muscles.

**64 **The final length you crawl again through what feels like treacle. Your arms flaying, scrambling for the side, your lungs on fire. Reaching for the side you catch it and pull yourself to its safety. Your body spent, Your head emptying of the thoughts that had sustained you through my task. Only as your heart and breathing returns

to normal do you look up and see the others staring at you. A look of bewilderment and concern on their faces. You look broken to them but nothing could be further from the truth.

With barely an acknowledgement to your audience you drag yourself from the pool dripping a mixture of water and sweat. You feel dirty and used. It feels good knowing you've mastered the hard lengths as you stagger to shower and prepare to start the rest of your day.

*You feel alive,*

*You have conquered your task,*

*You have completed the hard lengths*