“Sing, Women” Swim Women

Feb 14, 2022 | water temp 40 F

Today at the lake, I swam with K and K.

The People

It has been so long since I swam with them; I was really happy to see them again. I don’t think we have been to the lake together since the crazy wave jumping adventure….months and months ago. They both swim in a shorty spring-style suit, probably 2mm, with warm hats. They don’t put their faces in the water. They are acclimated to the water, totally. They walk in like I do, but I’m in layers of neoprene. I could never wear what they do in this cold water weather. I wonder if they gain more cold water benefits than I do because they are more exposed. I will have to research that. 

The Swim

The water was so flat. Glassy, my swim buddy, V, calls it. As we walked to the beach from the parking lot, the sun came out. Glorious. When we made plans yesterday the forecast said 80% chance of rain, so I assumed we’d be swimming in the rain. To get the sun was such a welcome treat. 

K and K were going to do a back-and-forth, heads-above-water swim, and I decided to head south. After a few bobs to get my face wet, I bit the bullet and headed south, pulling up only twice from the cold water on my face. Looking at the lake floor distracts me from the burn; if I can go just a big farther then the cold goes away. 

The Mental Health

I can’t stop buying striped clothing. I think it is some type of security thing. Like someone has their arms wrapped around me; the shirts and dresses allow me to have my own wrapping. And I’m safer. The stripes hold me. Hold me in. Hold me together. 

Right off the bat I was able to find my way into the sunbeam tunnel, so I paced myself and swam up the beams toward the light. I was struck by how thin and stripe-like the beams were when I swam toward the sun. Stripes have been a constant in my life since my accident. Once I got settled into the assisted living place after a month in hell (a nursing home) and a week in the hospital (all I remember is being overdrugged and puking into those green plastic bags), I spent entire nights searching the web for the perfect striped T-shirt dress. Then, I had to have another one. Then I needed striped shirts, then another dress. And so it has been like this for for four years!!! 

Another thing I started doing after my accident is holding my own hand in my sleep. I don’t remember when I started doing it because the hospital and nursing home stays were so traumatic that I don’t remember a lot of details. I don’t like trying to remember anything from that time. I don’t do it every night, but I still often wake up to find myself holding my own hand. Like the circle is complete, I’m locked in, safe. It’s a weird thing for me because I am a crazy, thrashy sleeper. It’s not unusual for me to wake up lying diagonally across the bed with half the covers on the floor and the other half twisted around my body or just around my legs. I move so much, so often, that the bed looks like there was some kind of war there. Struggle, for sure. Thrashy sleep and lots of nightmares.

I have video-like, cinematic nightmares. So vivid that it is almost impossible to pull myself out of them when the alarm goes off. Then, for a time afterward, I’m confused about what’s real and what’s from my dream. I have a few recurring themes; those are the hardest to discern because they have been with me for so long that they seem true, real. Like I have this whole thing going on with Harrison Ford and Calista Flockhart. First, it was just me and Harrison, but over time, we have all become friends. Insane, right? 

The nightmares usually fall into one of about three categories: people chasing me, trying to kill me (like Bourne Identity); people chasing me, trying to kill me, and blowing up huge parts of the city; arriving at college having forgotten to arrange for housing and the only available room is in a house filled with cats; visiting my parents new house, which does’t have a room for me but there’s one for my ex-husband and for some reason he lives with them. Insane, right?

In the months after the accident, I would just dream the noise of my leg breaking apart. I would jerk awake and sit up in bed, sweating. Sometimes I would cry, involuntarily ….because it was the start of a panic attack. Sometimes I dreamt that a frat had stolen the part of my leg that broke off, and they were tossing it back and forth, keeping it from me. Other times the nightmares were a jumble of noises and dark colors and terror. I can’t remember the dreams, just the sounds, colors, and feelings. 

It makes sense that I would take my own hand in my sleep. Safer. Comfort myself. Just so odd to me because I’ve never done anything like that before, and I am not a hand holder. The last guy I dated, years ago, used to remind me that otters sleep holding hands. We saw that on a billboard for the zoo, and thought it was adorable. I could fall asleep holding his hand, which was only one of the sweet things about him and about me + him. And now I hold my own hand. Self-reliant, I guess. Odd, sure. 

Back to the stripes. I’m all over the place today with my metaphors and imagery, but that’s just how I roll. I was swimming toward the sun and realizing the stripes were vertical-ish, and I imagined myself climbing out of my deep, dark pit. Wow. I hadn’t ever realized that before, but this time the sunbeam edges seemed very much like stripes, and therefore, safe. Not bars keeping me in, but direction leading me out of the pit. 

The Sunbeam

On the way back in toward the cement dock, I was in the sunbeam tunnel kaleidoscope. I moved my arms and hands around, first putting my hands through the edges until the yellow lines showed on my black gloves. I floated and watched the beam shimmer. The water moves it, I move, and the particles move. The edges of the beams are shaded, not full, solid colors. I can see through them. I don’t know if the texture/speckling is in the beam or the water. Like on a computer screen when I pull a color back to a screen. 

Today I focused my greetings to T, R, and A. It’s A’s birthday, and I think she would dig swimming in a sunbeam tunnel. I hope she felt me sending her some love. 

After that I floated on my back for awhile. Nothing feels so free and also so safe and relaxing. The neoprene keeps me floating. My arms are perpendicular to my body, my legs open a few feet. Like I am frozen mid-jumping jack. I floated for several minutes today. The sun was on my face, and I was so happy to be in the water and to be with two swim buddies (even though they were  quite far from me at the moment). Floating isn’t like feeling weightless. I feel lighter. And I feel supported, which is exactly what I need.

It’s funny that people continue to tell me I”m brave for swimming in cold water. I am there for help, support. Literally, figuratively, floatastically. The neoprene keeps me warm and buoyant. Pretty simple that a thin material helps me float. It’s not a stretch to feel like there is some lake magic involved. I can stay in that position for so long. I could fall asleep there. I’m that tired all the time. And I’m that relaxed on the water.

I have figured out how to push the snorkel out of my mouth with my tongue but still keep a corner of it between my teeth so it doesn’t fall into the water. 

After our swim, which K said was 19 minutes, I decided to swim back out into the deep water for just a bit because I wanted my swim to be at least 20 min. Cray. 

K and K settled on the pebble beach and went into wet-to-dry mode, stripping off wet layers and adding dry layers. K has a nice thick terry cloth pullover, and K has a DRY ROBE!!! Black with pink lining. I hope mine arrives soon. We took a few photos, then I had to dash since I’d left my gear in my car. 

I hobbled up to the parking lot, opened my trunk, and starting pulling off my gear. I’ve gotten really good at quickly getting my yak wool hoody on while simultaneously pulling the top part of my swimsuit down. It feels like seconds to get all my top layers on, then I toss the transition mat onto a log that borders the parking lot. It covers the log and extends about a foot forward. I sit down and wrestle myself out of the wetsuit, first removing my second layer socks. Then I can remove the neoprene shorts, which are totally too big for me. I’m gonna keep them because I’m not paying to ship them back to Denmark!!!! I will reward myself with a smaller size when I lose some weight. 

By this time the gals have come to the lot, and we are saying our goodbyes. Without flashing anyone because my Honcho Poncho and my Bloncho have me covered, I slip off my swimsuit and pull on a pair of knee-length shorts that used to be full-length yoga pants. I don’t know why but I like to make knee pants out of long pants more than I like shopping for shorts. I am a sloppy gal. Add my Who t-shirt and a too-big flannel shirt, and I am good to go. Knee pants!!!!!!

Today was the fastest I ever got dressed. I have never timed it; I just felt it. 

I even took time to put on the dirty old socks I found in my car and put on my shoes and leg brace. Ready for action. 

The Music

I started the car and on the radio is another Led Zeppelin song, “sing women, sing something something, sing something something…” Later, “dream on, dream on…” I’m all into my messages and metaphors, and I’m thinking “swim woman!, swim woman!” Robert Plant is singing to me, about me. He is fully onboard with the sea witch in me. Right on. I will dig this. Totally. Thanks, T. Another banger.

Then a rap song follows, and I instantly assume that T want me to hear one of HIS songs. “Jump around…..jump….jump….jump around..” I like the chorus, sure, but I can’t make out the rest of the words. I do not like rap, and I say, “Sorry, T, I tried.” 

As I turn onto my street another song comes on, but I’m done. Maxxxed out. Now I’m home and need to focus on getting gear to my house, rinsing it, hanging it, and all the other things I’ll need to do to get warm. 

The bag is always heavier on the way home: wet neoprene. I stuff the hood, gloves, socks, and goggles into their respective drying baskets, then go into the bathroom to rinse off the neoprenes shorts & top, wetsuit, swimsuit. Then I go to my phone and look up the lyrics so I can confirm the songs I heard. First, “Dream On.” That was easy. Second: “Jump Around” by House of Pain. Now I need to know if T listened to this song; will text his moms in a minute.

And I’m laughing because I heard the Zeppelin lyrics wrong. Whatever. They were never my band. Not sure you can be a die-hard Who fan and also like or care about Zeppelin. Too tired. Too tired. 

Now I am done for today. V tired, and I can’t think of more to write. 

The Silent Water