One day I noticed that I was swimming between Erik Erikson and John Kenneth Galbraith. The former performed an elegant breaststroke, never putting his leonine head of silver locks into the water; the latter, what seemed like all eight feet of him, simply pushed off from one end and arrived at the other almost immediately, effortlessly.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Willard Spiegelman has an appealing essay on swimming in the American Scholar (link courtesy of Dave Lull). Here's a pair of sentences I especially liked, following Spiegelman's description of taking up swimming as a graduate student at Harvard: