Five ducks on a rock witness me swimming very fast and are unimpressed

There was a rock-moss green trail, all the way across the jetty where I swam, tonight.  I almost didn’t want to go in.  But there I was, all dressed up with no where to go.  So I crawled into the green, bleeding water.

Starting off, I kept a pretty good clip, so that when I’d breath on the right, I could see the rocks going by a little faster than usual.  It occurred to me that it would be really cool to finish this swim in 20 minutes (down to the flag pole on the north side of the jetty and back.)

The water was unusually warm, as well as shallow (which, I’m sure, lent to the mossy green water.)  But as I’d move through the water, short staccatos of cool water would wash over me and disappear, leaving me to the warm, again.  At one point, I actually felt stifled and hot.

On my way to the flagpole, I passed five ducks, who were sitting on the same large rock, watching me go by.  It was really amusing to me, because I thought of all of the times that I run down the Provo River Trail and watch the ducks swim along the creek, next to where I observe.  It was somewhat “Gary Larsen” to me.

But, as I said, I kept a good clip and made it back to my truck in 30:24 minutes.  So I was on pace for a 36:10 mile, which is awesome, considering how much I’ve improved in the last few months.  I’ve really learned to turn my arms over and not take as long to recover energy in a stroke.  I push myself a little, now.  Sometimes I get into a pace where I feel that everything is synced up:  I have plenty of oxygen, move fast, and have no pain in my arms or shoulders.  It’s a nice feeling.

Anyway, I sewed up today’s swim, knowing that in two weeks (less than two weeks, actually), I have to kick out 6.2 miles.  Somehow I’ll have to figure this out.  *gulp*

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