Swimming Toward Enlightenment — and Failing (Sort of)

I was hoping this 10K swim would crack me open

After a summertime 10k lake swim, from L-R: Tom, Scott, Tricia, author, Jo. Photo by Patty Grandine.

I was only going to swim for two hours — max.

“I don’t think I’ll do the whole 10K,” I told my friend Tricia a week before. “My shoulder.” I nodded toward the offending body part.

Tricia is preparing to swim the English Channel this August. Since November, a generous club manager has provided three hours at an outdoor pool once a month for distance training. This brings together five good friends and Masters swimmers who, during covid, have scattered to the few available pools around town for the allotted 45 minute slot; so, we’re always super psyched to see each other and swim our heads off.

Except that this month, I was having some Very Practical Thinking about doing my shoulder in and spending a week recouping.

Let it be known: Very Practical Thinking is not in abundance over here.

Let it be known: A sore shoulder, a lack of training, sleep, preparation or the idea of being rendered motionless after a long-haul sports adventure has not stopped me before.

It was 7 a.m. on a February morning on Mercer Island, a Seattle suburb. Still dark. No moon, no stars. Air temp was 43d, water temp 83d.