The Year of Saying Yes

Otherwise known as... The Best Monday Morning....

Since starting graduate school at Stetson this past January, I have become exceedingly good at turning invitations down in lieu of an evening of studying, research paper writing, or other academia-related pursuits.  I missed a lot of parties, stopped salsa dancing altogether, and I'm sure deprived my stomach of a number of great meals out with friends.

All that is changing.

Change requires effort.

Goodness knows I know how to put forth my best effort.

When I returned to work after my brief summer break, I made the decision that this would be my Year of Awesome.  I also made the decision that this school year would be my Year of Saying Yes.  I've said no a lot-- particularly since my dad passed in December 2011-- but I feel ready to get outside my comfort zone again, do a better job balancing life with work and school obligations, and honestly, be alone a little bit less.

Sometimes it is necessary to retreat and return to one's center.  After Dad passed, I did that very well.

Maybe too well.

It took a long time for me to feel like myself again, but I'm there.

And it feels good.

Saturday evening I posted on Facebook about my run that morning, a five-miler on the My Small Town Lakefront, my weekend training ground.  An old friend from high school suggested I join her on Labor Day to do Lucky's Lake Swim.    In the spirit of the Year of Saying Yes, I accepted with enthusiasm.  My pal Linette and I had wanted to do Lucky's Lake Swim together two years ago.  We trained in the My Small Town City Pool, and we were ready.

Linette and I were also running ourselves ragged with salsa lessons, training for our first half marathon, and having a fabulous social life.  A few days before our planned swim date, we checked in with each other, and decided we really needed to give ourselves a break.

October 2011 was not my time for Lucky's Lake Swim.  Labor Day 2013?  Absolutely. 

So last night I laid out my Nike bikini, cover up, goggles, and swim cap.  I hadn't trained, outside my epic early morning runs, but I was a long distance swimmer in high school.  My coach used to have me swim a mile at a time-- without stopping.  Surely I could swim one tiny kilometer.  I went to bed at ten in order to get up early and run before the swim.

My body had other plans.

The clock struck eleven.  Then twelve.  I tossed, and turned, and focused on my breathing.  I even prayed.  I changed my alarm to forgo the run.  I was too keyed up to sleep.  I also suspect part of the problem is that I had slept eleven hours the night before.  I never sleep that much.  After my day in the sun on Saturday, I had needed it.  Now that extra sleep was working against me!  Sometime before twelve thirty, my mind finally calmed down enough to allow my body much needed sleep. 

I met my friend in a parking lot close to the turnpike a bit before seven a.m., and followed her to Doc Lucky's house.  There were about fifty swimmers this morning.  Everyone was friendly, and everyone was fit.  The water felt perfect.

Lucky's dog bark began the swim, and we were told to stay to the left of the buoys, that way folks swimming in opposite directions wouldn't run into each other.  Lake swimming is completely different from swimming in a pool.  For one thing, it's impossible to see the bottom of the lake, and I couldn't see in front of me more than ten feet.  Every so often I'd have to pick up my head to make sure I was staying left of the buoys, which were spaced out about fifty yards apart or so.  My friend told me she'd wait for me on the other side, we would take a little break, and then swim back, which was exactly what we did.

Afterward, I put my trusty coverup back on, walked up to the house, and had my picture taken with Doc Lucky.  When I rambled my way back to my car, the man in front of me had a tattoo of a big blockish M with a circle over the M.  I wondered what it meant.  My question was answered when he got into his car.  The front plate bore the same symbol, with the word Ironman emblazoned underneath.  In my mom's words, Woah. 

It is not every day that one swims with hardcore Ironman triathletes, stay-at-home moms, and all walks of life in between.  Everyone on the lake had their own purpose.  Some were conquering fears (that water is awfully dark), some were training, some just were into the social aspect of the swim.  There were even folks who set up chairs to spectate the swim, and cheer everyone on as they finished.  As for me, I was out there because I was saying yes-- to my friend, to the experience, and to life. 

A Monday morning cannot possibly get any better than that. 





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