Sea Witch of the West

Feb 16, 2022

Today at the lake the water was cold but full of sunbeams. A flock of ducks landed in the water just as I was walking up to the edge. I think they scattered too quickly for me to get them in the pre-swim photo I took. That’s ok. 

Bathing & Hygiene

I can’t really look at ducks the same way the more I learn about “swimmer’s itch,” which is a nice way of saying duck poop parasites get in your skin. When I first started swimming back in July, I wanted the lake water on my body, as if it anointed me somehow, conferring Sea Witch status. My natural habitat. Why would I want to rinse it off? 

I was of the sea (lake), so I didn’t need to be protected from it. I was also so mired in depression that hygiene hadn’t been a thing in my life for a couple of years. Swimming was my exercise, my mental health boost, and my way of bathing. It counted as hygiene in my book. 

At this point in my swimming life, I had been showering once a week for about four or five months, only because M, my home aide, had started nudging me to bathe once a week. I could not have cared less about how I looked or smelled, but somehow I was willing to bathe if M said I had to. Otherwise, I didn’t have the will. It was no problem to go a week, ten days, two weeks without bathing. Looking back, I think I felt better after showing, in a “oh, it feels nice to be clean and have warm water on my body” way, but I also didn’t care. Nothing registered more than a nanosecond of recognition anyway. And the “oh so clean” feeling was not enough to motivate me to bathe or to care about bathing.

Once I started swimming, I figured I was pretty clean from the water. Then I read about swimmer’s itch and decided it was probably a good idea to use the outdoor show to rinse off. That was all I did for weeks. Then the weather changed, and I had to wear a wetsuit. The way I figured it, the suit protected me from the water so bathing wasn’t necessary. My focus after swims was getting out of the wetsuit and into warm clothes. Then, back home, I changed into dry warm clothes, but I didn’t shower. It’s not ideal to go from the cold lake to a hot shower, and I didn’t think the parasites could get to me through the neoprene. 

Then a few weeks ago I saw my friends T, B, and R at the park. T doesn’t swim in the lake because she has sensitive skin. She told me that I really should shower after swimming (even with a wetsuit) because I can still get “the itch,” and not only that but I could get it….down there! OMG, no. So, I’m glad I ran into my friends that day. I have stepped up my hygiene efforts and amended my routine to include: soapy shower when I get home from my swims. I also hang and rinse my swimsuit, my neoprene “base” layers, and my wetsuit. It adds time to my routine, but I am NOT GETTING DUCK POOP PARASITES IN MY FLOWER!!! NUNCA!

Everyone is happy now. My therapist things it’s progress that I am bathing THREE times a week. I still don’t really care, but I am afraid of any additional health issues that would make me uncomfortable or require a doctor visit or medication. Next time I have a blood draw, I’m asking them to test me for parasites!

The Swim

Today I acclimated by walking, bounding, swimming north to the edge of the swimming area, then turning around and heading south. I tried to swim as far as I could before resting, and I made it quite a bit farther than the perimeter of the swim area. I ended up farther east than I thought I would. 

I treaded water for a couple of minutes while I slowly turned around in the water, taking in the view from several vantage points. I really need to get a GoPro because I love this view from just above the water’s surface. This is the view the ducks have. This is the view of the seals, sea lions, and all the above water sea creatures I will meet when I finally swim in the sound. It is the calmest spot. 

I can see far south but just to the horizon. The lake is too big for me to see the south shore. I can see the east and west sides of the lake (it’s a lot longer than it is wide). I look back at the cement dock and feel proud that I can easily swim this far out. When I first started back in July. I couldn’t swim from the dock to the edge of the swim area. I stopped several times and held on to the rope, treading water and gasping for air. It took weeks and tying a floaty at the end of the swim area (to rest on) until I could make it to the edge and back. Then, to do it twice, and so on. 

Now I’m so far out, no longer bound by the ropes. I love the ropes; they give me a way to measure what I do, and they mark off the swim area to keep the kayakers and paddle boarders out. Even thought they’re not there, I know where the boundaries are from landmarks on shore and underwater. It’s so exciting to be so far out and feel safe. I’m totally comfortable in the water. The suit gives me buoyancy, so resting is not so much effort. Still, I am limited to my funny modified breast stroke. I would like to do the crawl. Now that I have hacked my gear to mitigate water rushing in through the neck of my wetsuit, maybe I can try the crawl. Or so I thought. 

I started to swim back to the cement dock, but swimming crawl felt really awkward. I couldn’t remember what to do with my head. Sway side to side with the stroke or stay put. I had modified the crawl back in July to work with the snorkel, but I can’t remember how I did it. I had to modify again and switch to breast stroke when I started with the wetsuit. Ugh. It’s so hard. 

I didn’t last long with the crawl; it is so much harder. I was breathing too hard. I switched back to goofy breast stroke (Olympic announcers say goofy for left footed snowboarders, and that seems kind of asshole-ish because why should right handed people be considered “regular.”), my legs getting tangled in my buoy rope. I had attached a second belt to see if I could get the buoy to float farther away from my body but it didn’t help. I floated where it felt like and I just kept getting my feet tangled. I think I’ve tried this before with bad results. 

I did two out and backs today. I didn’t worry about meditating or tunneling. I just swam and enjoyed gliding through and across sunbeams (hitting them from a less the perpendicular angle). The sun streaked through the water, and I got to swim through it. The skanky doubled over seaweeds that I don’t like were few and far between. I need to deal with my animosity toward them, but they look like something out of little shop of horrors, and when they are in bloom they block my view of the lake bottom. I love the sand its curves.

Today it looked like snow. The farther I swam into the deep the less I could see. Then my view turned into a hazy greenish (grey when the sun not out) blah. It was nice to just swim today. I didn’t have the energy to have a spiritual experience or use my swim as a meditation. That only happens when it happens. When I’m in the water I have to literally go with the flow. Sometimes the water is easy, freeing me up. Sometimes the water is more challenging, requiring more energy and thought. 

Today I just let it all go, trying to pay no attention to my chattering mind, and just swam.

I got back to the cement dock for the final time, and was resting before my float. I recalled what J, a friend, had said on my FB page about “dog-paddling through life.” What a lovely and familiar image, and how true. Life is hard and then sh*t happens. You might find yourself reduced to the trusty stroke, nothing fancy, just upholding the basics. Just keeping your head above water. Really a good thing to keep in mind that everyone has something or several things going on. And then on top of that, some people have built-in obstacles. Others might have built in bridges…like….the ability to throw money at a problem and it goes away. 

I think my life is more like a bombardment game. I loved (and excelled at) that game in junior high. It never occurred to me that there were kids who didn’t like it, who, in fact, despised it. The aggression. The shame. I wasn’t equipped in 6th grade to understand what the game might be for others. Now, looking back at the past five or six years, I’ve been that kid who doesn’t want to play bombardment, who isn’t good at it, who might even be terrified of it. I get hit in the head and go down, then just as I get up again someone else nails me in the face. And so on, as I try to slink back along the bleachers and escape to the locker room. That’s been my life. From bombardment warrior to life’s weak prey. 

I’m horrified as I wonder if I was that kid who took advantage of some other kid sucking at the game—easy target. I don’t remember who I tried to hit, just that I enjoyed running around, throwing things, winning. 

Sometimes I wonder if I was given all these health issues for some reasons, but at this point, it’s not like I need more experience with empathy. I have decades of experience, not to mention a graduate degree based in empathy. I have had tons of time and experiences to  fine tune my abilities to be aware of and thoughtful about others, especially when they are struggling. Especially around health issues. 

The Float

I push myself out to float and immediately get some water (and who knows how many duck poop parasites) in my mouth. I doing that thing where I push the snorkel out of my mouth with my tongue, then grip the edge of the mouthpiece with my teeth so I can keep it out of the water and still breathe out of my mouth. 

I floated a long time today. First with eyes closed, then with my eyes open. The sky was perfect blue. There were some clouds but only on the periphery. I had my blue patch, my arms were outstretched, and I have no idea where my legs where. I floated for awhile, occasionally raising an arm in case anyone watching from shore thought I was in trouble. The blue sky was so calming. I love the relaxed feeling of floating. It’s not weightlessness because I’m aware that I have a huge and heavy body, that the neoprene is making the float what it is. Without it, I can still have an incredible float, but the suit is like an invisible support. I don’t have to think about doing anything to maintain my floaty-ness. 

I am not a floaty person. I am not light. I’m intense. I’m complicated. Floating is just a gift. It’s the only time I don’t feel like everything is up to me and there’s no way to do any of it. 

I started seeing hairs or little squiggles, and didn’t know if those are parasites or strands of something inside my eye. WTF? Note to self. Google this and maybe email my eye doctor. I thought I would try to flutter my hands or even use my arms to propel myself toward the shore, but the water was a bit floppy today and more water got in my mouth. I had to stop, tread water, get my mouthpiece back in, then swim back to the metal post where I tied my cane. 

Even though I had not been floating for a long time (like 10 minutes or something), my face felt chill when I put it back in the water. The key for me: keep doing what I’m doing, then do the next thing. Once my face is acclimated I need to keep it ion the water. 

My Guardian Angel, T

I hobbled to the shore on the slimy rocks, said hi to a man taking photos of the lake. The mountain was out now. I made my way back to my car, and started my transition. I have got it down to a “T” now. Off with the gloves, off with the vest and hood, on with the yak wool hoody with giant moth holes in it, and so on. I remembered pants today, so that was a bonus. I even brought socks and shoes. Love getting in the car feeling like a real person with all my warm gear on rather than a reckless, half-dressed, freezing-assed sloppy Sea Witch only getting through part of my warmup routine before I get in the car. 

T was spot on today, and sort of hilarious. The radio burst on as soon as I started the car. A weight loss clinic commercial, then another commercial about tax preparation. Needed reminders on both. I was joking to T, saying, “dude, you are fat shaming me.” But the truth is that this is where my mind has been: how am I going to lose this weight and why have I not gotten on top of the taxes. I needed reminding, and the message is clear. I need help to lose the weight, which I’m getting (wellness coach!), and a reminder to get my taxes to my accountant. 

I turned off the radio after that. No energy for more info. 

A Task: Nailed it

I get double points today because instead of first attending to my wet gear I put my bag in the house and headed back out to the driveway to deal with the mess I found in my trunk a few days ago. Water had gotten in the trunk and pooled in the spare tire well. Flares had fallen out of their container and rolled under the spare tire, so the water in the well was red from the red-color of the cardboard encased flares. There were also several grody mildewed items in the trunk that needed to be tossed. I took two old t-shirts out of my tool box and used them to soak the water out of the well. I think it took about 10 soaks and squeezes to get the water out, then I threw all the wet and mildewed stuff, include an old pair of Birkenstocks with rusted buckles, into a garbage bag. I also cleaned out a ton of gunk that has been wedged between the car and the trunk rubber — maybe that is how the water is getting in…the gunk is making the rubber not work….or the rubber needs replacing. I can test that next time….

Then I walked up to my house and tossed the bag into the bin. Tomorrow is take out the garbage day. Friday is pick up day. 

It is a miracle that I got this little task done. I have not opened mail or listed to voicemails or really done anything in two years, maybe longer.  I don’t do stuff, fix stuff, care. 

This trunk thing is actually a victory. 

P.S. I kind of want to get a kick-board. Blue or purple would be my favs, but yellow is more visible. I am all about visibility. I must post to the swim pages to see if anyone uses a kick-board in open water. 

OMG. I am so tired and SO hungry. Nom nom nom. My toes are still cold! 

Mountain, Docks, Ducks

Noisy Water (compared to last blog post)