The corner of the pool is made up of two wall-sized windows that come together at a refreshing point, keeping those swimmers aware of the outside world; that world that displays either dawn, daylight, dusk, or dark (or a combination of some, if you are me). All of which are comforting to recognize as you turn at the end of the pool where this window corner resides.
Tonight was the first time, however, that I experienced the sun setting right in front of my lane. It was simply magic the way that the sun shone in past the glass panes and directly into my eyes. With each stroke, my head broke through the water's surface only to greet the most brilliant of yellow motivation. I couldn't see anything above the water but light. The contrast from above and below was stark. I didn't squint or blink through my breaths, but rather I smiled.
For those brief twenty minutes or so that the sun landed perfectly in my lane, my set became something so new and beautiful. At each wall my surroundings changed from nothing but light to only the remnants of it. Although swimming directly into the sun was stunning, so was swimming away from it. As I pushed off the wall with patterned hands and arms, my surroundings turned to reflections of everything that was behind me. The sun had caught waves and was dancing around like thousands of disco balls, both above and beneath the water line. The resulting images appeared to me as cyclical lightning bolts, like spaces between all the molecules in the universe. The reflection seemed symmetrical from both the movement of the water and the walls and ceiling that encased me in this pool. This was a good workout.
Swimming, most times, isn't only about the swimming... if you are willing to open your eyes and your heart to it all.