NightSwimming

Today at the lake, I finally got to do a real night swim with V, another swimmer I met via online FB groups. I’ve tried to organize a couple of Friday night swims on the FB page I started for women who swim in the lake….and they never get off the ground. But V also likes to swim at night, and tonight things fell into place for both of us. We were both almost 30 min late because of traffic, so by the time we got our gear on and entered the water…it might have been 7:45pm?

As we were gearing up, we were noticing all the lights. To our right: a huge condo complex. Anyone with a north-facing window has a full lovely view of the lake….and could have watched us swim! (The south-facing units have windows and views, too, just not of us!) Straight ahead we could see the lights from the houses on M Island. And to the left, or north, was the floating bridge. It had a series of red and blue lights stretching the length of the bridge like Christmas tree lights. I tried to get a picture, but blurred it. Very nice. All this to see in total silence because the beach was empty.

I brought my floodlight, so we had lots of light to get geared up. There was also plenty of ambient light from the clubhouse. My new prep: I put my blanket down or use a bench (yea, this beach has lots of benches), then dump all my gear on one end. Then organize it into the order I need to put it on. I ‘m still working on the system, and making lots of mistakes. But now with the cold weather I need to get dialed in with getting gear on so I can get into the water faster. Same with getting out.

I start with my socks, then I put on the wetsuit, which takes forever because I bunch up a fold of neoprene, then gently pull up, starting just above my ankles. One leg, then the other. Bunch, fold, pull. This is how I get the suit to cover my legs and torso so things hit and fit in the right places. At the top of my legs, I started bunching, folding, and pulling to get the suit up to my hips and over my butt. If I was smart, I would sit down at this stage and put on my 5mm socks, but I forgot tonight.

I was trying some new gear, a hood with a bib. The goal was to try to keep my neck and face warmer and take up space in the neck of the suit because I wear a men’s suit that’s too big around the neck. Water gets in. It doesn’t bother me that much, but it’s cold. The neoprene in the hood is so tight that it scrunches my face and squeezes it out of the face hole. It also forces my jaw shut, so talking is actually hard. Anyway, I got the hood on, tucked in the bib, then got the suit zipped. Then realized I needed to get the 5mm socks on….you’re not supposed to sit in wetsuits, apparently, cause it pulls on the zipper or something. Anyway, I struggled into the second layer of socks. (BTW, the 5mm socks over my thin mm socks worked really well. Feet stayed warm.)

I was going to try to double up my gloves, but V said it wouldn’t work. She was right so I tossed the 1.5mm gloves into my mesh bag. She was already in the water, and I was still trying to get the inside out gloves right side out so I could put my fingers in!

Finally I was ready. I had put the floodlight inside my buoy, and it was really bright. I could see the bottom of the lake! Sweet illumination. V thought she wanted to walk back and forth in chest-deep water, so I joined. We chatted about a post we read recently about a woman who got sick after being in the water. V said that she didn’t think the woman had hypothermia, and explained what you need to do in and out of water to be safe. V is a nurse, so I appreciated learning from her. It’s good to ease into the water. Maybe hang out for a minute at waist deep. Give your body time to adjust. Same on the other end. Don’t jump right into a hot shower. (I actually like not showering after cold water swimming. I only shower after swimming in the summer to wash off the duck poop parasites so I don’t get an itchy rash. )

We went back and forth between the metal poles (between which they string the ropes during the summer to mark off swimming areas and shallow areas). V walked. I tried to march, skip, walk sideways, sashay, just mix it up so my legs got a work out. I can move my legs in the water so effortlessly and gracefully (it feels graceful, at least). I would never be able to move that way on land. I’d trip. And my brain wouldn’t be able to chose which leg to move first. Why does it work in the water?

I had to test the hood, so I dove in and pulled myself through the water with a breast stroke. I was so floaty and buoyant with all the gear that my body wasn’t in any type of alignment. I felt like my feet weren’t even in the water. And my forehead and eyebrow area BURNED. I came up and thought, “I’m just gonna ease into this….” It took me four tries before my face acclimated to the water.

At first it seemed like the hood was doing a great job of keeping my head warm. I didn’t feel that burn on the base of my skull or neck. Nice. The bummer is: the more I swam, water still seeped in through the neck. So, that’s just how it is. Water is gonna get in through the back zipper and the neck. And if I want the hood to keep me warm I need to keep swimming. I went back to skipping/walking with V, and I then when I put my head in the next time I wasn’t as warm. So, I’m not sure if water was getting in under the hood bib or if I just need to stay in once I’m in. I think the hood was really snug around my head because I felt protected from cold. Need to figure out the leak or just get over it.

I come back to V side to walk and she is singing a little song she made up about COVID. I already knew I liked her and wanted to get to know her better, but the fact that she makes up songs to sing while she water/walks/jogs makes me feel like I have found someone in my tribe. I once made up a brilliant, cheerful berry picking song while overdoing it in the hot hot sun on a roasting day in the UK a lifetime ago when I was married to that guy. I think I came close to passing out in the dirt, but first I filled my pail with raspberries. For our tea. He was damn impressed. Say what you want about me. I don’t quit.

I started feeling cold. Mostly in my hands. The gloves I have aren’t great. The thing is if I don’t stay active in the water and have too much of my body out off the water I start getting cold. I got out, and V stayed in to do two more back and forths between the metal poles.

I did a pretty good job with my transition tonight. I took off my gloves, and set them on the left side of the bench. then I unzipped the wetsuit and removed the hood. Then I put on my warm hat (but note to self: it wasn’t as warm as my really warm had so next time, pack the blue hat). Next, pull myself out of the sleeves and top of the suit, pull the suit down to my waist, yank off the top of my swimming suit to my waist, then frantically dab dry with my Pack Towl. Pull on tunic top, pull on fleece jacket and zip. That’s the most important. I have to get my head as warm as possible. then the body. Then I peel the wetsuit and swim suit down so I can sit bare-assed on a blanket on the bench. I have to sit ’cause I can’t stand very long before getting really dizzy. I remove the outer socks, and drop them on teh left side of the bench. I pull the ankle of the suit open as wide as I can and still struggle to extract my foot. Once free, I yank off the inner sock and drop it on the pile. Same with left foot. Meanwhile, I have part of the blanket covering my thighs. When it’s all off I quickly dab with my towel, then pull on my sweat pants. Think poly/cotton. I should have insulated camping pants or really thick fleece (note to Xmas list). Finally, I try to dry my feet and cram them into my insulated Fiver Finger boots. They were nice and warm getting to the beach, and the grippy tread helped me stay steady on the grass as we walked down the hill to the beach. But they are NOT warm now. I need Ugg boots. Totally wool fleece immersion.

V stayed in longer, so I’m done when she starts taking off her gear. All my wet gear is piled on the left side of the bench, so I shove it into my mesh bag, then look around with my light to make sure I haven’t dropped anything under the bench. I have, so I grab the stray waterproof case and shove it into the bag. Then I wrap myself in the blanket because my thin pants and fleece jacket are not warm enough. Finally, we are done and walk to our cars. I tell her I am so grateful for meeting her. When we were getting dressed V saids something about how I was so much more than my illnesses. A gentle way to let me know I was OCDing and had mentioned it several times during our short time together. I wish I could remember exactly what she said, but I never will. The thing is: it’s really hard to know how much to disclose. I want people to understand so they don’t expect more of me than I can give. I especially want someone I’m in a recreational situation with to know that I have some issues in case I faint. Anyway, it’s a big struggle with me. I want to explain myself. I hate being a wimp. I hate having to be so careful. I hate having so many limitations. I am grateful for the comment, thought, and I must remember to bring this up in therapy. How and when do I share my multitude of health issues? I don’t feel like it’s my job to explain myself. At the same time some of my issues can make it hard for me to communicate sometimes.

I don’t believe that it keeps me down. F that. When I’m in the water or on a walk or trying to do anything I love, I am not down on my self or thinking about my limitations. I’m just trying. I really hate when people think some theory that they’ve read about or that works for them (“think positive”) applies to me. Like it’s my thoughts making or keeping me sick. That’s not what V was doing at all. And I appreciate it.

I got in my car, drank as much water as I could. About 4 huge gulpfuls from a gallon bottle. Then I turned on the car and adjusted the heat to pour out on my feet. The entire time I was waiting for V to get dressed my toes were f-ing freezing. I just sat in the car, waiting for the heat to actually get warm, drinking water, and wiggling my toes to make sure I could feel them.

Traffic was still insane. It is not that long of a drive – maybe 18 minutes – but the route is fraught, so totally fraught. To get here from my house, I have to drive past the university, a huge bottleneck. Then immediately after I pass the university, there’s a bridge, the worst bottleneck in the city. Then I can zig zag through an arterial to the long, long street that leads to the beach. I got stuck at the university because there was a football game. I won’t even go into the rant I have about football (at least not here, now), but omg the traffic was a mess. By the time I was on my way home, the gave was over so I had to pay extra hard attention to stupid people who wander into the street and have no reflective clothing on. Apparently, it was the biggest game of the season, but I’m not gonna say who played who or who won (I have no idea) because I don’t care about football. It gets far too much attention already. Dead to me, and just a big stinky traffic jam getting in the way of my swim.

So, notes on the swim. Water maybe 48 degrees F. Outside temp: high 40s? The water was flat and clear. One of the things I love about this beach is its sand bottom. They actually put huge tarps on the bottom to stop seaweed from growing. Unlike my fav neighborhood beach that has a pebble beach that makes it quite tricky to enter and exit the water (I have to used my cane), this beach is so easy. I just walk in, walk out. Never a risk with footing. And the water is so clear I can see the sand, even at night. It helped having my floodlight in my buoy. I love being able to swim through the water not just on top of it. I’m an explorer, and even though I didn’t find any treasure I got to see the ridges in the sand, a few rocks, a few big rocks, some little green sprouts. It’s like a zen garden down there, the sand ridges undisturbed until I traipse through them.

When I’m in the water, and mostly when I’m not and trying to write my posts, a line from one of my favorite poems runs through my head, “water that cleans
            flowers that clean
            water that cleans as I go.”

It’s from the chant poem “Fast Speaking Woman,” by Anne Waldman. I don’t know if I have the words right because the book is in my storage locker on the other side of town. Also, some versions online are earlier versions of the poem. I have the version from Helping the Dreamer, which came out in the late 80s. I attended the reading/performance when the book came out with my friend Chris. It blew our socks off.

I will get the book someday and edit this if necessary. Anyway, the repetition, incantation of it locks me into a type of meditative state where I can imagine I’m in the water, still in the water. The water cleans me, it purifies me, it washes off the weight of rumination and trauma. I can be a smooth rock and have the water flow over me. I’m so smooth and in tune. Nothing to snag on or slow the flow. Grateful for this small attempt at some connection. Can I even consider it meditation-ish? I don’t know. Katie will tell me what’s what on that idea.

I floated tonight. I held my illuminated buoy under my neck and just floated. At first my legs were akimbo, wide open. Curious about the buoyancy, I moved them close together. I could still float, but it seemed odd to float so straight up and down like a pencil. A chubby pencil. I like the idea of my feet and hands as the points of a star. Except I have my arms behind me holding the bag and trying to keep my snorkel vertical so I can breathe. I’m paranoid about letting my snorkel fall out of my mouth and dangle in the water. What if I get parasites?

I closed my eyes, which is the best way to float because I can disappear from everything on the outside and everything in my head. Nothing is as perfect as floating on my back in the water. It’s even better in the dark than in the daylight. V and I were the only people in the water for miles. One boat passed by when we arrived, but after that…..nothing, not a ripple.

Floating is suspension without strings, wires, or tricks. And suspension because I find it impossible to think or worry or ruminate or care about anything. Floating suspends all that is my monkey mind. I can be blank. Not really empty because my body is mass but definitely blank. I prefer floating without a wetsuit because the water against my skin pulls me deeper into a natural state of oneness with the water. still, the suit confers buoyancy that makes it even easier to float…Either way, I wish I could sleep there. I wish I had an hour to float. I wish I could fall asleep when I’m tired and let go so deeply that I could wake up refreshed. I have no idea what that would be like. I could actually live my life. Accomplish things. Feel useful. Be useful.

Right now I am wrapped in my Honcho Poncho with a blanket on my legs, thick socks on my feet, on the couch under my wall-mounted electric fireplace. I can’t write anymore because I’m starving and want a stack of blueberry pancakes. I’m also way too tired to move. And I have to pee again. I drank so much water before and after my swim that I’ve had to get up five times since I started writing this. “Water that cleans as I go.” I think my body is flushing toxins or something. No way did I drink that much water.

It’s a good idea to exercise. Gets things in your body moving, working. Drink your water, pee it out. I almost peed sitting on the bench tonight when I was taking off my wet gear. I wanted to let go and just pee through the bench. But I was so cold and focused on getting warm that I didn’t let myself. Next time I’m letting myself. I’m a sea witch, after all.

Now that I am finishing, a Jayhawks song just came into my head, A Break in the Clouds. From Smile, one of my fav Jayhawks albums. Some lyric like, “cool, cool water running down my back.” I’m not gonna be bothered by the leak in my suit. A little cold to keep me sparked and alert. And Gary’s voice, always perfect, lovely, soothing. Now I can have that song to reach for, or at least to remind me that a little leak is ok and not gonna stop me.