It has been 79 days since my last swim—easily the longest I've ever gone for without a swim. I am following the guidelines of our Chief Medical Officers and socially distancing—it is important, so important, perhaps the most important thing I can do. And (not but), I miss swimming. I miss a whole bunch of things—being able to work without getting snacks/finding lost stuffies for small children, seeing friends, hugging people, drinking a coffee in a coffee shop window, the ease of Before Times, but what I miss most is swimming.

I miss the headspace it affords me, the non-thinking thinking that happens over the course of lap after lap. I miss the exhaustion in my body. I miss the weightlessness of the water. I miss smell of chlorine on my skin. I miss the absence of pain in my back. I miss the meditation of it all. I've missed it so much I haven't even been able to think about it. I buried my suit, my goggles, my cap at the very back of my closet. I wouldn't let myself entertain the possibility of pools opening up for the summer. I could barely even read the two swimming picture books my kids love so much.

Then late last night, I got a text from a friend with a backyard pool saying her pool was open, and that she'd disinfect the key and hide for me if I wanted to come by for a swim. Buoyed by the research about COVID not being spread through swimming pools, I set my alarm for 5:45 and drove west to the suburbs. Armed with my bottle of 70% alcohol spray, with my bathing suit under my track pants, I tiptoed into her backyard, sprayed and unlocked the gate around the pool AND WENT FOR MY FIRST SWIM IN 79 DAYS!

Eight strokes to the wall and eight strokes back, over and over and over and over. I floated on my back in the centre of the pool and watched the sun creep over the neighbour's hedge. I kicked, I splashed, I treaded water. I pushed hard off the wall and glided to the other side. A cardinal perched on the tree above the water for my entire swim, my little red lifeguard.

Usually when I swim, my mind turns things over and sorts out writing dilemmas, and processes things I didn't even know needed processing, but all I did for the entire 45 minutes was think I LOVE THIS I'M SO HAPPY I LOVE THIS I'M SO HAPPY I LOVE THIS I'M SO HAPPY on loop.

It was a positively glorious morning. The best I've had in, well, probably 79 days. What an extraordinary gift.