Swimming is my chocolate

You may or may not have noticed that my most positive, sarcasm-free posts are all related to swimming - not running.  I realize this is blasphemy on a running blog, but, to make it crystal clear, I Love Swimming.  I love swimming like I love chocolate - swimming is milk chocolate (my one true love) and running is dark chocolate (calculated and controlled).  I love swimming like I love the smell of gasoline, like the feeling of clean sheets (Egyptian cotton, 500+ thread count) after a nighttime shower.  I love swimming like I love my faithful Mr. Quackers nightie.

I love swimming like I love Jax Teller with short hair, or in that fight scene in Ireland.  I love swimming like I love Scarlett O'Hara and her forbidden love for Rhett Butler, or like Jon Bon singing Livin' On a Prayer in his leather pants.  But, most of all, I love swimming like I love my husband.

Swimming is comfort, refreshment.  Swimming is gliding, is weightless.  Swimming is a healer; swimming is tranquil.  Swimming allows me to attain that feeling of being wrung out, stripped, that moment of calm exhaustion as you slowly make your way out of the lake, legs unsteady, uncertain ... no thoughts.