Yesterday my mother emailed me and reminded me that one year ago to the day I was toiling my way through the English Channel. Funny I didn’t even remember it. I did wake up and think hmmm September 22nd, why does this day seem like something important. It was sort of the same feeling that I get on September 11th and remembering something big happened. However, unlike September 11th I could exactly put my finger on what “IT” was. Until the email.
One email and my emotions took a major roller coaster ride. The huge ride of the exhiliration of achieiving a dream, the sadness that it is over, and the calm that comes with knowing that I went after it. I guess in a way I found myself in that inky black water. There were parts of me that I found that I really liked as in the part that found my passion. And there were the weak points too, but I found that I can overcome those with some determination, a little grit, and some good support thrown in. That and I’m so glad that I just tried.
Funny to think that I couldn’t remember the actual day, but every day I wear a small rock from France that I’ve had fashioned into a necklace. My own little rock. I believe that it is the Greeks that have a superstition that you collect a rock from those places that you want to return. Maybe it isn’t the Greeks but that has stuck with me. I have rocks from all over the world, but somehow this small one around my neck seems the most important.
I’m rambling. I know, but I think I’m just not sure what to say. The feelings are so strange. Some days I pinch myself to know its true. Other’s I sit there and think while I’m in a conversation “I bet you don’t know you are talking to one of the few Channel swimmers.” (Forgive me I know that is very egotistical) Most days it is life as usual, but with the added ritual of hooking my rock around my neck as hopefully a reminder to GO, PARTICIPATE, and LIVE.
That’s all for now.