It’s all going swimmingly!

Two days into my stay at Contessina Hotel, and my love of swimming has officially been reignited.

It’s easy to forget between holidays, how therapeutic doing lengths can be.

It’s no underestimation, that the pool is a portal to a calmer, cooler version of self. Maybe in part (in my case), because those twenty minutes in the water is the only time my breathing becomes what might be described as ‘normal.’ In other words, not shallow and disjointed and, despite my best efforts, always falling short of the deep, belly-breathing respiration that good health demands.

Breathing dysfunctions aside, this year’s return to swimming has also proved as fortuitous for ‘student stress’ as it is for the fight that my body was beginning to put up against its first love - running.

Lately, the running hasn’t proved the panacea it once was. Most notably, this has been evidenced by some strange thigh dents which I’m led to believe, might be my muscle’s cries for a break!

Ironically, this siren call came just days after finishing a book where two pages were spent opining the virtues of pavement pounding. I stand by these sentiments, however, I am also newly open to the idea that my love affair with running might be borne more from convenience, than genuine affection for high impact sport.

In other words, were there a pool like this on my doorstep, I’m not entirely convinced that my head wouldn’t be turned.

It’s hypothetical, of course, but the very fact this holiday has made me consider the possibility (alongside hopefully ‘fixing’ my thighs) proves how useful an intervention it’s been. A divine, useful intervention.