The pattern of the sunlight on the floor of the pool.
How dirty the floor of the pool really is. Best not to think about that too much.
My form: chest down so my hips rise, reach long but then tuck my arm in close on the downstroke. Keep my head down and my neck relaxed.
People I'm praying for...
...and then others, and then work, and my schedule, and all the random things one thinks about while moving.
Imaginary blog postings that I almost never manage to write.
What the $%*# is this idiot doing, floating in the middle of the medium zone?!
Would it be unspeakably rude to splash water on him?
Ah, better just to swim around. At least there's only four of us in this zone right now.
Back to my form.
Is that a rubber duck on the side of the pool?
Why yes, yes it is. How cool. (And today that duck was joined by a second.)
Wait, what lap am I on?
Back to the sunlight.
At some point I always think about my happiest swimming memory: summer laps in the outdoor Olympic size pool in my Oma's town. The coolth* of the water, the warmth of the sun, occasional breezes, often just me in the pool, back and forth for ages. *This really should be a word.
Oh, coming to the end of lap swim. How many can I still get in?
Last lap: Relax, relax, relax.
And we're done.