Just one more plunge.

The pool heater and I are both in denial.

I am addicted to swimming.

There are worse addictions. Unfortunately, most of them can be enjoyed indoors in October.

As the weather cools, I continue to approach the pool as though we have an understanding.

I will keep showing up, and it will keep being summer.

The pool has apparently retained separate counsel.

The heater is trying. I can hear it working, bravely attempting to negotiate with the outdoor temps, but there comes a point when a piece of equipment, however expensive, cannot reasonably be expected to reverse the tilt of the earth.

I find this disappointing. Particularly given the electric bill.

Every day now involves a negotiation. I check the temperature. I consider the wind. I stand at the edge in my bathing suit, trying to decide whether the sun feels warm or whether I am simply having a hot flash.

For once, a hot flash would be useful.

Then I get in.

The truth is, I need this.

There is something about being in the water that quiets the constant committee meeting in my head. The errands, the unfinished tasks, the news, the things I should have said and the things I probably shouldn’t have, all of it becomes less insistent once I start swimming.

My phone is somewhere else. Nobody can ask me a quick question. I cannot check a headline halfway through a length, which may be the most effective mental health measure I have ever taken.

For a little while, there is only breathing, movement, and the sound of water.

I love that sound.

I love having somewhere to put my energy that does not involve worrying. I love getting out feeling as though someone has turned down the volume on the world.

Getting out, however, has recently become its own problem.

The breeze that felt refreshing in August has developed a personal grudge. I hurry toward the house with the grace of a woman who has seriously miscalculated.

And still, the next day, I want to do it again.

People are very enthusiastic about cold plunges these days. They deliberately enter freezing water and emerge looking pleased with themselves.

I had no intention of joining them. I wanted a heated pool and a little peace, but the gap between my intentions and the water temperature is widening.

For now, the heater and I are carrying on.

Neither of us is ready to admit defeat.