There's a box of clocks sitting ticking on the corner of my desk. Los Angeles says 11:55 Tokyo 11:00 New York 12.50 Sydney 11.58 and London 12:00. They're all wrong, but they go on ticking.
This morning at 8.30 a series of alarms go off on clocks that do tell the right time. The sun is shining against a partially closed blind, underneath it the light bounces off the ocean and into our faces. It's the Stanwell Park Ocean Swim today and we do our pre-race preparations in the morning of a stunning day. There is a gentle breeze as we watch the surf life savers in their inflatable dinghies zooming along the glistening ocean placing the marker buoys along the course that passes us. We head out the door and down to the beach where we're given fluoro pink swim caps, I'm asked how long it is until I'm in the next age category ( I answer VERY) and the general atmosphere is jovial. There are many distractions along the way in the form of stunning fellow competitors, so waiting for a bus to Coalcliff for the swim start is not so traumatic. Not so traumatic at all.
I meet a few unexpected people at the race start - and a few regulars & friends. The water is beautiful and when I do a warm up swim I feel fantastic. Can't wait to get in for the race. The race itself is harder than I expect and it's a bigger mental battle than usual to get my body going as fast as I want it to. The end result isn't so bad though and I roll onto the beach the other end with sand all over me, a lot closer to the lead than I expected. The sun is still shining and The Frenchman heads up the beach smiling. He's been pleasantly distracted by a competitor racing against him. A group of us who have collected at the end laugh, a lot. We then head back to ours for a tour of our new home and brunch.
If time could stand still, as it does in the corner of my desk, right now would be perfect.