Get Free

June 29 2024, Saturday

Wind: from S 3.2 m/sec (7 mph); Air Temperature: 19.6 °C (67 °F); Water Temperature: 19.01 °C (66 °F)

Today at the lake it was overcast and trying to drizzle. The water was fairly flat thanks to the lake of boaters. There were two little kids playing in the shallow water at the north end of the beach. 

There was a mother duck and her little babies curled up on the beach, taking a late nap. I didn’t get a phot because I’d already stashed my phone in my bag. 

My friend C came with me today, and I was excited to have company. I got my gear on and swam out to the deep water while she acclimated, then floated and swam in the shallower water. 

Without the sun the scene underwater was quick dark. The milfoil didn’t have its green vitality; it looked yellowish. The pockets between the stalks looked black and menacing. I could see the sand for awhile, but in the deeper water I just saw darkness. 

What is it about darkness that makes us thing something bad will emerge from it? I feel more relaxed and more alert at night. I love walking at night. Cities are more exciting to me at night. My experience tells me that nothing is going to swim out of one of those dark spots. Still, I half expect it, but I’m not afraid of it. 

The scariest thing about the milfoil is how tall it is. I don’t want to stop swimming to tread water, then get my feet caught in it. I saw a guy drown that way when I was a kid. I tried to reach for the top of a frond, but just missed it. Funny how things seem closer. 

With nobody in the water I was free to do lazy laps around the swim area. I mean lazy as in “not having to pay attention” because there were no swimmers or boaters to get in my way. I swam crawl away from the cement dock, then switched to breast stroke when I changed directions. There was some muck floating on the surface, and twice I put my hand right into it. Just a mess of leaves or lake weed, so I didn’t let it get to me. I was distracted by my tow bag, which I kept kicking. Irritating. If I use a longer strap then my feet get tangled in it. Sometimes the bag floats over me and lodges on my butt. It always startles me, and I think someone is in the water with me until I remember that my bag does this. Weird. 

I floated on my back for a little bit, trying to imprint the feeling of support on my mind and spirit. We all need love and support, but I have so much guilt about how much I’ve had to ask friends for help. Trying to teach myself that it is ok. I wouldn’t judge someone for it, but I sometimes feel judged. 

People don’t really have a clue about living with a chronic illness or three or four. They don’t understand invisible disabilities. I think most of my friends believe me, maybe all of my friends. My family doesn’t. Not at all. It’s devastating. They say the most hurtful things to me. Float. Float. Float. I’m not gonna get stuck on their baggage. 

I finished my swim by swimming south to the edge of the swim area, then turning around and swimming into the swallow water. I felt drained as I walked onto the beach. There is a type of dizziness and an almost burning feeling in my face and body when I’ve overdone it. I think I swam about five minutes too long. My body felt like lead, and I could feel myself having a hard time focusing. 

I was happy for the hot shower. It’s so much easier to rinse off my gear and my wetsuit in the outdoor shower than at my house. I’m still struggling to get used to the new wetsuit. It’s nice to swim in, but it’s impossible to remove. 

By the time I got dressed and sat down with C on the grass the party just south of the beach building had started: it was a wedding. The women were in purple, and the men in white. We watched a young boy walk down the aisle with the bride. Then the bride and groom stood near a archway of purple and white balloons. Everyone was clapping and taking photos. Joy. 

I am for affordable weddings in the park. Better to use your money for a house! 

Now I am starving, and need to clean my house. 

Thank you, lake. It was hard, but I did it.