I'm sure you've heard that the third time's the charm. Things happen in threes. Three strikes, you're out. Playing a new board game with friends recently, I decided that I need to play games three times in order to get the knack. The first time is just to get familiar with the pieces and the layout. The second time is to understand the rules a little better. The third time is for putting it all together.
I had lots (lots!) of time to ponder all that while I was swimming in our lovely lake this morning. The first of three training swims, today was step one: getting familiar with the pieces. In this case the pieces were head gear (including goggles, ear plug, band-it and swim cap), fashion (I wore a wet suit for the first time in my life! - thank you, Buffy!), and a lake (murky open water). I'll be the first to admit that I was pretty nervous about this morning's adventure. The butterflies in my stomach had arrived on a Sunday evening afternoon, so I had plenty of time to feel fluttery.
To make a very long story short, I swam out and swam back, about eight tenths of a mile. I nearly cried twice (once before the swim – out of fear; and once after the swim – feeling pathetic), and I smelled so funny when I got home that my dog inspected me for what felt like hours. The end.
BUT. Lest you think this was a bad experience, let me set you to rights. This was a very good experience. As the water captain of my inspiration and motivation team (also known as Team Karin), my Friend Buffy did a bang-up job. So what if I was the absolute sloooooowesssst swimmer out there? Buffy reminded me that a.) I did it; 2.) many other people either couldn't or wouldn't do it; and C.) I'd swum pretty far off course, so maybe I wasn't that slow (I love you for that one, Buffy!).
We had perfect swim conditions this morning: perfect water, perfect sky, perfect sun, perfect temperature. It was glorious and new and amazing. Sun and water are the things which heaven are made of. I swam farther than ever before and did so non-stop. I felt very safe having my own life guard (a benefit of being slow) and I could work on how to swim while wearing all that gear and not being able to see without my glasses.
Everybody should be lucky enough to have a Buffy in their lives: someone who inspires by example and is unflinchingly encouraging. Who but Buffy would loan me books about slow, fat athletes? Who but Buffy would have an extra wet suit I could borrow – without my even asking? Who but Buffy would say, "If you even think about not swimming here next week, I'm calling your husband?" (Though he defers to Buffy in all things aquatic, my Wonderful Husband every bit the motivator and encourager, and he doesn't allow me to give in to my fears.)
When I got out of the water, I really did wonder whether I'd have the guts to try this again next week. I already know I'm the slowest swimmer but still capable of doing it; must I really do it again? Heck, yeah! This week was about learning the pieces. Next week I'm going to understand it a little better. The week after that I'll be an old pro, which is good since then I'll be doing my first triathlon!
Thank heaven Buffy'll be doing the tri with me (though way far ahead of me) and I'll have my Wonderful Husband and our three kidlets at the starting line, at the finish line, and in my heart.
(P.S. Yes, I know I have to track my food. I'll get on it.)
~Karin
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