every five
I used to breathe every 3 strokes. Then 5 and 4, except for when there were too many waves, all hitting on one side. When that happened, I’d breathe 2 or 4 or 6 on the opposite side. Now I mostly breathe every 5. Alternating which side I breathe helps me to swim straight and doing 5 strokes instead of 3 allows me to keep my head in the water longer. Not to look underwater—who can see through the dark, sometimes murky, always a shade of brown, water?—but to do other things: feel the water as it laps over my head, count my strokes, forget that I am not a fish.
the five senses
I see flashes of color: blue sky, green trees, white sails, pink swim caps, yellow paddle boats, silver roofs, orange buoys. I glimpse fleeting forms: inflated triangles, cylindrical buoys, fuzzy figures on kayaks, disembodied arms, stroking in the water, bobbing domes that could be heads or buoys. But most of the time I look at brown nothingness. I try not to stare into it. I don’t want to see what I’m swimming with.
If I haven’t put my wetsuit on just right, I hear a squeak underwater, as I’m lifting my arm. I hear a different sort of squeak when my nose plug has a leak because it’s sliding off or I’m trying to breathe through my plugged nose. Often, out in the middle of the lake, I hear clanging and humming and buzzing from deep below. And I hear airplanes above me, as I tilt my head to breathe.
Slimy, scratchy vines can wrap themselves around my arm or face as I stroke through the water. And lake sediment—sand, grit, muck—seeps through my suit and settles on my stomach.
When I’m done swimming all my loops, I take off my nose plug. As built up snot drips out my nose and down my throat, I taste metallic bitterness.
The lake feels clean and refreshing and rarely smells bad, but if I forget to rinse out my suit when I get home, it will stink for days of stale, swampy earth.
five hundred yards, five thousand meters
In high school, I often competed in the longest distance you could swim: 500 yards. 20 laps. Every time I stepped up on the starting block I nervously wondered if I would be able to finish the race. Ridiculous. Of course I would finish. It’s only 500 yards. Only 6 minutes of swimming. Well, 6 minutes then, when I was 17. More like 7 and a half minutes now at 43. In a pool, that is. I can swim 500 yards in the open water in about 8 minutes.
500 yards seemed really long in high school, but it’s not. Marathon swimmers race 5Ks, 10Ks, even 25Ks, swimming non-stop for over 5 hours. There’s a 5 mile race across Lake Minnetonka that I’d like to try someday. Maybe next summer? The longest I’ve ever swam was two summers ago, towards the end of open swim season, when I swam 5000 meters. It took me about 100 minutes.
five seasons
First season: Swam one loop, 1200 yards, from the big beach to the little beach and back again, once or twice on a Tuesday night. One loop was hard and scary and disorienting.
Second season: Swam almost every Tuesday and Thursday. My goal for the season was to swim two loops in a row. I did it the second week. Ended up swimming 3 loops (3600 yards) in August.
Third season: Caught in a sudden windstorm that produced big swells and made me feel like I was in the spin cycle of a washing machine. When I got to the big beach, the lifeguards made me get out. Only swam one loop that night.
Fourth season: Developed terrible allergies. Couldn’t breathe at night, hours after swimming. Miserable. Missed a few Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays and a lot of loops. Started wearing a nose plug. No more problems.
This season: Had to evacuate the water when the lifeguards saw lightening. Landed on the wrong beach, the little beach, 1/2 mile from my towel and the car. Walked, and occasionally ran, barefoot through the rain, back to the big beach. Completed a loop and a half that night.
five decades
I first took swimming lessons in 1974, when I was 6 months old. Joined a swim team in 1986. Swam for my high school team until I graduated in 1992. Swam laps at the University pool when I was pregnant with my son in 2003. Started doing open swims across Lake Nokomis in 2013. Still doing them in 2017.