At the Y pool, 7:00 AM on a Wednesday morning, my lane stretches before me.

I’m in the chilly water, kept at what I’m told is “competition temperature,” a shock to me my first time here. Nothing to do but swim, swim, swim to try to stay as warm as possible. I’m the only swimmer who has pulled a long sleeved swim shirt over her suit, in addition to wearing  swim pants reaching to my calves. After weeks of swimming, I am still not accustomed to the cold water.