Doing Things I Cannot Do

Barton Springs last week

Learning to swim these past 3 months has been difficult enough for this not-so-much lover of water. And open water swims? That's a whole new level of terrify. All I can think about as I stand on a lake shore is how there is no escape route. I can walk anytime when I'm tired of running, and I can slow my cadence if a hill is killing me on the bike. But I will D-I-E (perish, I tell ya') a horrible death if I get too tired of swimming. I'm a little addicted to living, I really am, and I have no desire to die in that horribly claustrophobic way. I'd rather fall out of an airplane and splat on concrete.

So, here I am, with a solid resume of 42 years of water phobia under my belt, still plugging along at TRIathlon training. Why, you ask? I'm not so terribly sure, except to say that I believe that I should. Nobody would fault me if I gave up swimming tomorrow, and I know that. You'd all understand. We all have insecurities, anxieties, and even phobias, and we should give each other grace for them. 

A funny thing happened on the way to my first marathon, though. I became bolder. With each difficult thing I did, I was emboldened to do more difficult things. The physical gave way to the spiritual. As I strengthened my body the Spirit strengthened within me. I have always said that I would never do triathlons because of that darn swim part. So after the marathon, guess what I decided to do?

With this new emboldened feeling, I wish I could report to you my massive successes in open water swimming. Um, no. I'm inching towards getting better, but I still tense up completely. I can't make it 50m in open water without holding on to a swim can and breathing like Godzilla was on my tail. I seriously need some sort of hypno-psycho-behavioral-therapy. Anybody got suggestions?

Last week, I started back to open water swimming (at Barton Springs) after a 2 1/2 week absence. I stood in the shallow water for what seemed like hours, talking myself into diving in. Oh my goodness, it was not easy for me to start up again. I'm sure the lifeguards had some sort of walkie-talkie "code-yellow" action on my bright pink swim cap standing there. "Swimming poser with a look of terror detected in yonder pink cap. Keep your eyes peeled for her," is what I imagine them to say.

And like in marathon training, I told myself, "Ain't nobody gonna swim this for you. YOU. Have. Got to do this." (Seriously, that's exactly what I tell myself. The bad grammar double-negative stuff just gets it through my brain more quickly.)

So, I dived in and took MY leap of faith.  So what if I stopped every 10m to hold on to that God's gift of a side-bar? I dived. ;)

The long-awaited rains have fallen hard upon the thirsty ground
and carved their way to where the wild and rushing river can be found
And like the rains I have been carried here to where the river flows, yeah
My heart is racin' and my knees are weak as I walk to the edge
I know there is no turning back once my feet have left the ledge
And in the rush I hear a voice, it's telling me it's time to
Take the leap of faith
So here I go

I'm diving in
I'm going deep
In over my head I wanna be
Caught in the rush
Lost in the flow
In over my head I wanna go
The river's deep
The river's wide
The river's water is alive
So sink or swim
I'm diving in
I'm diving in

There is a supernatural power in this mighty river's flow
It can bring the dead to life, and it can fill an empty soul
And give a heart the only thing worth livin' and worth dyin' for, yeah
But we will never know the awesome power of the grace of God
Until we let ourselves get swept away into this holy flood
So if you'll take my hand, we'll close our eyes and count to three
And take the leap of faith
Come on let's go


("Dive" by Steven Curtis Chapman)


I'ma going in. See you in that crazy water. 


How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?  ~ Satchel Paige