It was not just cold, it was damn cold! I know I know… it snowed in the Rockies. Well, they haven’t been living in triple digit heat for months. We Arizonans have. So I’m saying, “Brrrrrr!”

And I’m talking about swimming in it! I like cold but swimming in 50 degree temperature? “That’s cold,” I’m thinking, “to swim.” I decided to wait maybe two hours.

Now it’s 54 degrees. Can’t put it off any longer. Into the car and off I go to the community pool.

As I entered the center and had my entrance card scanned, I could see the beautiful Olympic sized pool to the left outside. One guy in a suit and goggles occupies one of the nine or so lanes. The clerk who scans my card is commenting on my going swimming… She thinks I’m nuts to go out there much less to get into the water. I’m saying to myself, “Don’t think, just go do it.”

I chose a lane and dump my bag. I strip down to my suit. Brrrrrrr! There’s a wind. Nice! Not! I get into the water and yes, it’s heated but the wind is creating cold eddies, so I know it’s going to be like swimming in a lake or the ocean…. warm and then suddenly cold which can throw off a swimmer’s rhythm if I don’t stay focused.

Brrrrrr! “Just swim, don’t think. Get up in that head of yours and count strokes! Count laps.” So this is what I do. Two laps, four, six, eight… the water is feeling pretty good by now. Cold spots but it isn’t bothering me much at all. Awesome! I can just stay focused and keep my rhythm. I’m going to be done with this in no time at all.

There is a saying that I’m sure you are familiar with… Shakespeare: “Pride cometh before the fall.” And it came in the form of an Iron Man swimmer.

The guy two lanes over, wants to chat while we swim. For these guys, chatting while swimming or running… any little activity they do… comes natural and easy. They just slow down and change their rhythm to include talking. For me, I have one (ONE) rhythm and if I have to carry on a conversation while I swim, then there is no rhythm. There is only struggle to keep the ship from taking on water!

“Why me,” I’m thinking but I return his hello.

“Hey, you here to practice for the Triathlon?”

“No, just swimming for my health,” I say. (In my head, “Good! No water. Maybe I can do this talk-thing and swim.”)

“Yeah, I’m an Iron Man competitor.” He laughs and swims…

“Nice.” (Laugh? And swim? How does he do that and not choke!) I’m losing count… losing my rhythm and thinking to myself, “Damn. What lap was that?” (Now if I lose what lap I’m on, I have to go back and start the count again with whatever I remember I, for SURE, swam.) “Okay… 26!” So I turn at the end of the pool and start the 26th lap.

The wind has died down. Yeah! Not so many cold eddies in the water. Rhythm is better and I’m not struggling so much.

Blast! Leg cramp. I roll over on my back and stop kicking but power through with arms… I stretch that leg and flex my foot upward toward my knee. (It would have been good to have brought the water bottle that I left in the car, because the chlorine is dehydrating me. Ergo, the leg cramp.)

Another guy shows up to swim. He’s almost got more gear than he can carry; and, he plops it all down two lanes over. So here we are: Iron Man two lanes to the left, and New Guy two lanes to the right. “Smooth,” I’m thinking… “We can all do our thing”… And then guess what? New Guy wants to chat!

“Hi, you a Triathlon swimmer?”

“No, here swimming for my health.”

“Ah, well nice stroke! I’ve seen you hear before.”

“Oh?” I took water on with that reply. My rhythm is rocked, stroke
is suffering, and suddenly I’m aware of ache in my muscles. “Shoot, what lap is this? And of course I can’t remember. So I say to myself, “27!” And again, I lay back to what I know is real and not just wishful thinking, or an estimate on my part… I start with 27.

Iron Man and New Guy are chatting it up as they swim. Thank God they don’t want to talk to me anymore. I go into my head for a personal chat as I swim.

“They think I’m a Triathlon swimmer? Hey, not too bad. But then who else would be out here swimming in 54-degree weather with a wind? Me. Hmmm…. Wonder if I should up the swimming to three days a week,” I ask myself. “I could do this.”

“Shoot! Damn! What lap is this?” AND…. I have to go back to lap 27 because I can’t really remember how many I swam. Again the roll at the end of the lane, and start a different stroke. By now, I’m pushing off the side hard so I can glide longer. (I’m more tired than usual and I’m thinking I’ve done probably 30+ but I can’t recall the exact count because I’ve lost it so many times.)

Now I’m really pushing to finish!
More focused and forcing myself to stay in the game.
No socializing… Because this is not playtime for me.
This is reach-the-goal-and-get-out time.

Finally I finish, and am so pleased with myself that I think I’ll do a victory lap just for fun. And then I notice that my knee (still healing from surgery) is very sore. (FYI… I don’t feel pain when I swim. I don’t feel pain when I work. I am my own worst enemy and best friend at the same time.) I really want that extra lap just because I can. But someone else who lives in my head and tells me when to quit, starts yelling at me… “Carolyn. Get out! Now! No more laps.”

Dang it! But I listen. I get out.

As I towel off in the cold air, a young woman… very fit, very athletic body… takes the lane between Iron Man and me. We greet each other and like so often happens, she begins to tell me her story. And what a story she has!

Sue Meno has just recently finished the Triathlon in Hawaii. She finished in the top 100 persons out of 1800 competitors. A wife and mother of three active children, she found time to train and compete! She got her own sponsor and coach. And talk about focused… I really loved listening to her as she described her experience in Hawaii.

She said, “The swimming is first. You run into the water and it’s a mass of humanity all working to make it to the next event. None of the swimmers can find their rhythm. We’re just packed together splashing for the end. It’s a struggle to not take on water. She said she took on water once and had to fight to keep going. At another point there was something very big and dark swimming underneath her in the ocean water. It freaked her out until she realized it was a cameraman filming the race. She made it through the swim and headed into the next leg … the run portion of the competition.

Her daughter comes up along side of her as she runs. “Mom, I’m sorry I got kool-aide all down the front of the sponsor shirt you had made for me! I’m sorry!”

Sue to her daughter: “It’s okay honey, just get off the course.” (Even SHE has people talking to her as she is working to finish! I am not alone… just on a much different level.)

The last leg was the bike that happened to be up-hill. The weather was getting worse and worse and she was very tired. The wind and rain were pounding on her in a bad way. She had to fight.

She sees her coach at one of the stations and he says, “Muscle it through. This is head over body! Muscle it through!” She puts her head down to focus. She fights for it.

The entire time Sue was talking, I was seeing myself in so many situations in my life:
*Fatigue takes from us in more than the swimming pool or a Triathlon:
*When women give birth
*When men and women lose their way in careers
*When we are financially devastated and must recover
*When loved ones need our love and care, up close and personal
*When we are suffering from health issues and working to recover
*When loved ones die and leave us alone and longing for them

We have to do what Sue did, what I did, what ALL of us do… We have to muscle it through. Go beyond our fatigue and get into our heads and focus!

Finish what we start. FINISH!
Don’t give up;look up!
Don’t give up; suck it up!
Faith (in God and self) spits on failure.

May you (and God) muscle through together!

Best… Carolyn Thomas Temple