Open Water

I love the water.  That should seem like an obvious statement coming from someone who spent twenty or more hours a week submerged in a pool for five months straight, but it’s not always the case.  A lot of swimmers get so tired of being in the water during season that the refuse to swim – even just for fun – once season ends.  For me it’s the opposite.  I’m usually the only one who gets in the pool during the summer when my family goes on vacation.  While they tan or read on the deck I’ll be floating, diving, and splashing around in the pool by myself.  At our family friend’s Memorial Day party you can usually find me in their pool, surrounded by children while the adults drink cocktails and nibble on appetizers.  When it comes to swimming in pools I’m like a big kid, playing in the water until my fingers shrivel into prunes and I force myself to warm up and dry off in the sun.

It would seem natural that someone who loves water so much would be excited to swim in open water such as an ocean or lake.  For me, this is not true.  I like the idea of swimming in open water; you have more space, fresh air, and the sun shining down on you.  Each time I go to the ocean or a lake I really try to enjoy swimming there, making myself at least get in and paddle around a bit.  I never enjoy it though, and always find myself getting out of the water with urgency once I reach shore.

Swimming in a pool is predictable.  You can see the bottom clearly, and there generally aren’t creatures residing underneath the water.  I have an overactive imagination to begin with, so swimming in a lake really makes me over think things.  As soon as I push off of the sand I start thinking about all the wildlife watching me from their hiding places in the murk.  This is a totally paranoid thought, and my family tells me that any animals near me are probably more scared of me than I am of them, but I still can’t shake the creepy feeling.

It was one of the times I was trying to enjoy swimming in a lake when my paranoia actually turned out to be true.  I was fairly relaxed as I floated around  close to the rocks we had set up camp.  Most of my family was relaxing on shore and talking while some of us were in the water.  One moment we were all relaxing, and in the next instant everyone on the rocks was standing and pointing to a spot close to where I was swimming.

“Holy crap, look at that turtle!” My dad said from his spot of safety on land.  As soon as the words left his mouth I could feel myself start to panic.  Our family friend who was closer to the rocks quickly scrambled out of the water.  I felt as if Jaws himself was chasing me down, ready to come flying out of the water and start ripping me to shreds.  I swam around the rocks towards a place where I could climb to shore, making a wide arc around the last place the turtle was spotted.  I couldn’t bring myself to look for it; I kept my eyes pointed towards land as I swam the last few feet in.  I made it to safety with a sigh of relief, and by the time I stood up and looked out across the water the turtle was nowhere to be seen.

Although I love going to oceans and lakes, I now tend to enjoy them from my spot on land, and I leave the swimming for pools.