First, go read this:

My friend Francis had a lovely post yesterday. It was waiting for me when I got up from my nap, from which I awoke feeling significantly less unRavelled.

I suspect, from the way that he writes, that my workouts in the pool fall under the category of appropriately wasted time. When I am on the treadmill or the recumbent bike or the weight circuit, it is about reps and time and levels of difficulty. When I am in the water, it is far more about the sheer joy of moving my body.

Yes, I keep an eye on the clock. Yes, I keep track of the number of laps that I do, but I play with how that is done. Sometimes I use deaf counting (i.e., one-handed) as I splash to and fro. Sometimes I will alternate laps minus the hand weights with laps where I try to keep said weights submerged as long as possible. At the end of eight laps I stop and do ballet extensions midway down the lane, but that is more a different way to move my body than it is a strict regimen.

In Orson Scott Card's Alvin Maker series, he speaks of how being creative (whether it is a simple fragile basket twisted together from blades of grass, or something more permanent) helps to keep the Unmaker at bay. I know that is true with every fiber [most likely a silk and merino blend, though possibly cashmere] of my being.

Knitting is a way for me to be passionate and not get myself into trouble. Should I ever remarry in this life, there might be significantly less knitting, or the medium of expression might shift to cross-stitch or watercolor or calligraphy or voice lessons. Just as modern revelation declares that everything is spiritual unto the Lord (Doctrine and Covenants 29:34-35), I am happy making stuff. And learning stuff.

I am also happy to know that there is a dance waiting for me at the end of this week. But right now, I am happy knowing that approximately twenty minutes from now, I will be neck-deep in chlorinated water, counting my blessings.