Like a snowflake and a thumbprint, there are no two identical ocean waves. As I Triathlete and avid ocean swimmer I take the same roadway, highway, parkway, pathway to my training point. That’s where the ordinary ends.
I plunge into a fluid, oscillating world and spot my bouncing turning point in the distance, backlit by morning orange. With every propelling stroke, I ascend and descend with schools of tiny visitors darting left and right. Erratic synchronicity.
I sight my turn and adjust. Sight and adjust. Sight and adjust. A large single seagull pilots over me. Rhythm settles. As the water darkens my navigation increases with my breathing. The red turning buoy wanes but reappears. Cadence resumes for a moment and I’m swiftly pushed closer to the splashing tethered ball as I turn. New spot, new bearing, new course. No ordinary path.