It not only filled me with a renewed sense of energy and enthusiasm, but, for the first time in my life (since I was a gymnast at age 8 - 12 or so), at age 46, I actually felt physically powerful and capable.
As the winter slips in and I burrow more and more, I feel the glaring disparity between summer and winter even more than I have in the past. As someone who already suffers from a bit of seasonal affective disorder, this isn't the best thing. I already feel the winter sloth setting in. The lethargy. The 'everything aches and I don't want to go outside' blues.
Sure, I head to the pool on a tri-weekly (or more) basis, and the water fills me, but it just isn't the same.
I miss the open water.
I miss this:
and, of course, this:
But, especially, I miss this:
Spring really can't return soon enough.