Dig If You Will This Lake and Its Magic

Friday Feb 11, 2022 | water temp 40 F

Today at the lake, it was sunny, the water was calm, the ducks were paddling about, and there was a huge gathering of black birds just north of the swim area. 

As I was getting my snorkel and goggles on, I was surprised to look up and see two women sitting in the lifeguard chair. They looked adorable. I’ve only ever seen one person sitting up there, so that fact that the experience could be shared kind of tickled me.

I said hello. They were wondering about the black birds. I said that I didn’t know what type of birds they were, but I hoped they weren’t going to attack me. We chatted for a bit, and it took all of two seconds to find out they were from WI! Excellent. I love meeting other people from the midwest because they are friendly!

I had to get into the water, and my facemark is so tight that it actually hurts my jaws to talk. Some people might like that idea: me not being able to talk. Anyway, I was eager to get in the water. 

The Swim

I used my cane to wade in; it’s quite helpful for keeping my balance on the slippery, shifting rocks. I got where I needed to be, then tied the cane to one of the metal poles. Then I walked and bobbed north, with the snowcapped mountains in full view and the congregation of mystery black birds ahead (they were starting to break up and go their separate ways). When I reached the end of the swim area I turned around and “dove” in. My face still burned, but I just kept going because 1) I was swimming into the sunbeam, 2) I was so excited to be in the water, having just met two nice ladies, 3) I just got confirmation that I will be attending the WHO concert with D in Oct, 4) it’s Friday, 5) that’s the kind of woman I am. Onward, baby. 

Today I kept swimming as long as I could before stopping. I made it pretty far south, but somehow I also ended up doing a loop where I ended up in shallow water. Nuts. I have a pretty good sense of direction. I can’t read a map to save my life, but if I have been somewhere before I can usually get there again. In the water, I never know where I’ll end up. It’s something to note, mostly for safety reasons. Otherwise, maybe it’s like a swimming koan…….if I even understand what those are. It is certainly an exercise in letting go. Right? 

At any rate, I decided to head straight west into the deep water. Eventually, I came up for a stop, repositioned, and swam back north to the cement dock. I was all over the place in my head today. I couldn’t meditate or slide into sunbeams or even clear my head. There was so much chatter. I’d come from a doctor’s appointment; there’s another old person vaccine done! Best to swim now since I might feel crappy tomorrow. 

This is how I do things now; I plan around my swims like I used to do with running. My appointment was early in the day (for me), so it set me up perfectly to get to the lake while there was plenty of sun and time. 

I made it to the cement dock, then turned around to swim south again. I made it past the swim area, then headed out west into deeper water. I tread water for a few minutes to take in the view. One huge mountain to the west, a couple more in the distance, north. The vastness of the lake is intoxicating. So much water, but I can also see land. I’m much more comfortable with that than the sea. I think I would lose my mind on an ocean boat with no land in sight. And I would puke. I get sea sick.

When I’m in the deep water I feel one with the water. What an incredibly cornball thing to say, but I don’t know how else to describe it. I feel fluid, easy, not in my head, natural, part of the flow of nature. I don’t stay long because I need to keep moving to stay warm. I swam back to the cement dock, and when I turned to swim back south I started coughing so I had to pull up. I’ve been having trouble with asthma lately, so I decided it would be smart to get out of the water. 

First, I had to float on my back for a few minutes. Sweet, glorious sun on my face. My body completely limp, held up by neoprene. It’s always a bit tricky to do the breathing because my nose is swollen shut and the snorkel doesn’t work when it’s horizontal (the top dips into the water and it automatically blocks itself so I don’t breathe in water…..but that means I also can’t breathe through it. Taking it off means it’ll end up in the water, and i’m so paranoid that the duck poop parasites in the water will get on the mouthpiece then into my body!!!!! So I pushed the mouthpiece out a bit with my tongue and tried to breathe through my teeth and the tiny bit of space I was trying to create around the mouthpiece. I’m a nut. 

Was happy to swim to my pole and get my cane. So much easier getting out of the water with some help. 

The People

The nice ladies were still on the lifeguard chair when I finished, so I was excited to get to talk to them again. Turns out that one of them is a grad student at UW, in a dept that has a lot of crossover with the dept I was in. And she also worked on a special research group with kids that I worked on when I was in grad school. So…..I gave her my blog info so she could get in touch. I’m very excited to meet another midwesterner who also has the same academic interests. 

I’m so glad that I decided to start swimming alone rather than wait to find buddies. Now that it’s light in the afternoons, I always end up running into at least one or two people, and they always have questions about the wetsuit and swimming. It’s really so lovely to talk to people and be in the park. Lockdown has just been the worst two years of my life. 

I wasn’t able to stand and talk to the ladies for as long as I would have liked. For one thing, my jaw was killing me. The hood is so tight that it’s painful to talk. For another thing, I had to get my warm stuff on. I said my goodbye, changed quickly the parking lot, and dashed home.

I am convinced that T, my friends’ son who passed away about 18 months ago, is helping me fight this depression. My car radio almost never works, but after my swims I notice that as I pull away from the park, suddenly the radio comes on, and the songs are always good, always relevant. Spot on, really. 

Today, Prince:

 “Dig if you will the picture

Of you and I engaged in a kiss

The sweat of your body covers me

Can you my darling

Can you picture this?” 

Nobody was cooler than Prince or more talented. Prince was part of the soundtrack of my MN years. And who starts a song with “Dig if you will.” DIG! I dig that. The 70s, baby. Diggin’ it, diggin’ it, diggin’ it. 

When the radio crackles into sound I shout, “T! T! T!” It has been the strangest experience to feel his love and support all these months. A wonderful feeling, but I haven never experienced anything like this. Thank you, T, for watching over me. For the help. It’s everything. 

The Gear

The new gear worked a treat today. I have a new system. My bibbed hood goes on first, then my sleeveless, hooded neoprene top. Next, the neoprene shorts. Then, the wetsuit. I am getting so much better at folding and gently inching up the arms, legs, torso of the suit. And I managed to get both of my gloves tucked under my sleeves today. Yea! 

I hung up my gear when I got home, but couldn’t find one of my neoprene socks. If I’d had a brain I would have looked a bit harder, but I thought it was more likely that I left it behind. Hopped in the car, and drove all teh way back to the park. No sock. Back home. Found the sock clinging to a piece of Velcro on the neck of my wetsuit, which I’d flung across my walker to dry. Ugh. 

Then a soapy shower to wash off the duck parasites. Now, I am resting and trying to find the motivation to clean the mess I found in my trunk. 

#OWS #wildswimming #depression