The Sun Draws Us Near

March 3, 6:30pm

Sunny | water temp 40 F

Today at the lake, the water was flat, the sun was out, and I finally got my tiny video camera to work. And then I dropped it, and it floated away. 

I got to the lake and was happy to see lots of cars in the parking lot. People were walking on the main path, others were walking their dogs on the hill where I saw people flying kites last week, and the lake was calling to me.  

I could see from the parking lot that the water was nice and still, dark blue. Today the water would not give me any trouble. I took extra time to cinch up my wetsuit (last time the crotch was too low and inhibited my breast stroke kick) so it fit better, then I marched down to the water. 

First, I took a quick video with my phone, then a few snaps. I like to do that before I swim because once I get out of the water I’m either desperate to get back to my car to change into warm gear or I run into people who want to ask my questions. 

I take my photos and vid, set my fitness timer, and now, I also set an alarm to go off in 20 minutes. I can hear the phone in my swim buoy, so it’s a good way to know if I’m swimming at least as long as I want to. I’ve been using a Loksak to protect my iPhone, which is also encased in a very, very, very old Otterbox case. All the protective rubber button covers have fallen off. So, I close the Loksak (it’s like a Ziploc bag but tested by the army and stronger and waterproof), toss it into my buoy with another Loksak that holds my inhaler and a stopwatch. I have not figured out how to use the stopwatch, but I bring it anyway. Because??? Actually, because my brain is a mess. I have to do something or not do it. I have a routine, and if I change one thing then it throws me off. 

The Gear

My crazy gloves are no longer such a problem. I’ve figured out a way to get them on quickly without tearing them. I fold down the cuff, put on the left glove, with help from right hand. Then I can easily fold the sleeve of my wetsuit over the cuff. It takes me a bit longer to get into the right glove, but I have managed to speed it up. And, I can now slip my fat, neoprene left thumb under the right sleeve to fold it over the wrist cuff. Sometimes it all bunches up, and I have to start over again. Today, I got gloved and folded in record time. 

Last time I timed it took seven minutes, but I bet I am down to four minutes. 

I used my cane to steady myself as I waded into the water, trying not to slip on the slimy stones. I wish to F that the park would leave an entry carpet on the beach year round. In the summer then have a long and not too wide type of carpet that allows people with mobility issues (and just normal people who slip on slime-coated rocks) to simply walk or roll into the water. They should leave it up year—round. 

Apparently, it is not legal to swim in the lake without a kayak or canoe escort. Bullshit. So many people use the lake in all seasons. The parks department should help us by leaving some of the gear out. Raise taxes to fund it. Just let us keep our beaches. 

Today was my second attempt to use my video cam. I studied it and remembered how to turn it on and off. I was going to strap it to one of the metal poles, the realized that I’d left the tripod thingy in my car. Not going back. So, I put it in a small zippered pouch that I strapped around my waist. I swam out to the cement dock, not really giving myself time to acclimatize to the water. My face was cold. Whatever. 

I got to the dock and wrapped one arm around the ladder while removing the camera from the pouch. I couldn’t swim and take a video, so I held the camera in front of me and just did breast stroke kick. The water was too deep and kind of murky, so I didn’t get to record anything fancy. I did get a video of the water from under it to just above it, like the sightline of a seal or something. I tried to film the sunbeam underwater. You can see it in the video, but it’s not the best quality.

I swam back to the cement dock and put the camera into the pouch. I was getting ready to swim off, and reached down to pat the pouch. No camera. I looked underwater; maybe it was on the lake floor under the ladder. I couldn’t really see that well. I also couldn’t go underwater because of the snorkel. I tried to remove my snorkel, forgetting about my yellow cap on top of my thermal hood. Then I had to remove the goggles from the snorkel clip. Impossible. I was thrashing around, with one arm hooked around part of the ladder, most of my body trying to float, and then falling into the water. It was a mess, and I swallowed a lot of water. I got the snorkel off, then couldn’t breathe because the neoprene was covering my mouth. 

I tried to go down in the water, but I couldn’t hold my breath (I’d forgotten to remove my buoy, so there was resistance that didn’t make sense). This splashing around went on for a bit, and I figured the camera was gone and this swim was over. Then in the distance I saw the camera floating. Yea. Also, I had to swim 10 yards to get it. 

Finally, I got the camera in the pouch, got the pouch zipped, got the snorkel and goggles back on, and got the yellow cap on, too. I was maybe too tired to swim, but I headed south and east to deeper water. 

The Swim

I was swimming through sunbeams, most perpendicular to me, some angled, some more aligned and parallel with me. I didn’t have the energy to meditate or swim inside the tunnel; I just enjoyed the play of the yellow strips of light rippling around me, through me, to each side. I had to focus on my breath and stroke. I like to swim for as many strokes as I can before I pull up to sight. That rhythm is precious, centering, my metronome, practiced over so many years it’s instinctive. I used to have it running, now I have it swimming. Locking into it and moving forward is probably the thing I know best. Getting to use my body this way is all I have of me these days. I can’t even connect to it, though.

My body remembers how to do it, but all the feelings, sensations, and energy is dampened now. I didn’t sleep much last night, so I couldn’t take anything from this swim. It felt good, and I was glad to be in the water, but I could’t go where I sometimes go when I’m swimming. It’s another level, rarely physical like when I was young and fit and could run 10 quarters all under 70 seconds. I’m not sure how to describe it other than a combination of different types of energy or states or mind. Anyway, I can’t write it today. 

I swam out a bit more, then heard my alarm going off. I wondered how many minutes I wasted with my camera-snorkel mishap, and decided to tread water for a bit. Then I swam back to the cement dock, had my float, then swam to the beach. It’s ok that I didn’t swim my entire time in the water. I got it in, even though I was so raggy tired I should not have been driving. 

I got my lake love, so next time I can swim longer and get my camera dialed in. 

A little boy ran up to the lifeguard chair and started climbing it. We both said, “hi.” Then he said something I didn’t hear. I pulled my hood away from my head, and asked him to repeat. He wanted to know my name. “I’m Erika, what’s your name?” 

“A.” I told him I had just been swimming. He wanted to know if it was cold. “Not really.” Then I explained that the wetsuit kept me warm. His parents arrived with a smaller child. We said our “hi” “hi” etc. We chatted a bit, then I had to get to the car to change. 

The sun was still shining as I approached my car. I quickly got out of the top part of my gear and into the layers. First, the blue hat, then the layers. Then my transition mat on the ground so I could fully remove the wetsuit, the shorts, the two layers of neoprene socks. Into my adidas track pants. I love them. I even remembered socks and shoes. Make me feel more together when I can get fully out of the wet gear. I don’t like driving home with the wetsuit still on and rolled to my waist. 

Then home. Then rinsing if all the gear. Then shower. I swapped out my shampoo and conditioner for my tea tree shampoo and conditioner. Just a little change. Just for my hair. 

And guess what, I already figured out how to get the video I filmed off the cam and into my computer. It is not exciting to watch, but it’s just a start. 

Peace out. 

The Lake