The Miracle Of Walking In Water

A pool in North-West London may not have the same mythical resonances or be viewed with the same awe as the Sea of Galilee; however today I survived the smooth, slippery surfaces of the poolside, braced the goose-pimpleing, teeth chattering and lip discolouring temperatures and walked in water. People’s inquisitive stares, whether real or simply a figment of my imagination, required more determination and control to stride through, than the dense, undulating, chlorinated water.  Despite gravity’s endeavours to keep me rooted in one position, four fabulous lengths were achieved, thus creating a buoyant mood to accompany my buoyancy.

It is so dreadfully easy to only remember the trials and tribulations, the pain and the exhaustion, of a day. Clouds of but a few water droplets can roll in at a moments notice and block the rays of sunshine from view. This afternoon’s low stratiform clouds of neuropathic pain not only obscured this morning’s accomplishments, but also were so low as to form an all-encompassing fog. Pregabalin or Oxynorm, Pregabalin or Oxynorm, I vacillated between the two. Which of these two most powerful potions would clear the storm clouds? Unable to reach a decision, both were consumed. Within the hour, the winds turned, the weather forecasters were proved wrong, the skies cleared and my miracle of walking in water shone forth.