7:42am *boink* B: Swimming today?
*boink* T: Sigh. Guess so. Just checked, water temp is still 70
*boink* B: I am not worried about the temp of the water really…wet suit–I must wear it, swim in it, and just do it. Intestinal fortitude.
*boink* T: studies show intestinal fortitude is highly overrated. And you can always take Imodium for it.
7:48am *boink* B: can you see the lake on google earth?
*boink* T: Checking. Been taking your meds, eh?
*boink* T: Yes, I see it. It looks like distance to the boat launch is 162 yards. I’m putting Kahlua in my coffee right now.
*boink* B: riiiiight….
8:18am *boink* H: Just catching up, you two swimming in the lake this morning?
*boink* T: I DON’T HAVE ANY KAHLUA
*boink* B: Can you put some Merlot in the coffee, then?
*boink* H: OMG I’m so nervous. Every night this week I’ve worried about snakes.
*boink* T: there are no snakes in my lake. I swear. I promise. I’ve never ever seen one.
8:57am *boink* T: how far you going?
*boink* B: I don’t care. What you need, is to get in the water and get the feel for it–and for the love of all that is holy DO NOT WORRY ABOUT TIME
*boink* T: no, right, just get in the water.
*boink* B: I repeat just get in the water…and swim some…no pressure
*boink* T: Right, that’s all I’m planning to do, I’m not concerned for distance.
*boink* B: there are no drills, no specific length just tip toeing through the tulips.
*boink* T: tiptoeing through fish shit, you mean.
8:32am *boink* H: I’m back. You’d better be right because if I see a snake I will die. Or maybe I’ll kill you.
*boink* T: I SWEAR.
*boink* H: okay
9:31am *boink* B: On my way
9:34am *boink* H: me too
I woke this morning feeling resigned and peaceful. Yesterday afternoon it occurred to me it was a swim in a lake, not the Bataan Death March. Seriously. I thought, what, I’m gonna die? I still wasn’t thrilled of course, but I seemed to feel a little more realistic about the situation. I’ll get in the water, I’ll get to the other side somehow, and then I’ll get back.
I was surprised, at 70 degrees the water didn’t feel too cold. It was chilly on my hands and feet but they quickly warmed; I’d expected to feel cold the entire time.
I finally let go of the dock and we swam to the boat launch and back. I did get dizzy, I might consider some Dramamine for the next couple days, and I called it at one lap.
B&H returned to the boat launch for a second lap. It all went well until they saw the snake. That it was dead did not make any difference to them. Heather threw Becky to the wolves and hauled ass. Becky did some speed work. Being dead and all, it stayed where it was, but, still, it was a snake.
Later we drove around to the boat launch to be sure. Maybe it really wasn’t a snake.
There were a couple guys working on the house next to the launch.
“Are you the ones that swam across the lake?” they asked in that tone which indicates they are watching carefully and are ready to back away slowly if necessary.
“Yes, we did, and there’s a f*cking snake in the water!” said Heather, delicately.
“Really?” Suddenly this was a lot more interesting. Men with trucks and power tools. Three women squealing about a snake, what’s not to like?
“Yeah,” intoned the younger one, walking to the shore to check it out, “That IS a snake.”
He threw a rock at it, it bounced on the waves, obviously dead.
Heather shook her head. “It’s still a f*cking snake.”
Maybe that didn’t go as well as it could have, after all.