This afternoon a friend of mine and I decided to go to a popular lake in Utah for cliff diving. We opted out of bringing our kayaks or tubes or any flotation devices and agreed to swim to the jumping rock across the lake.
I think I'm a good swimmer--I enjoy swimming and I practice swimming at every opportunity--but I've never swam across a deep lake like this before.
The water was cold--it's just barely June and I bet the water is around sixty degrees. There was a light breeze making only 1' swells, so not too bad. The distance to the other side was 500ft.
My friend was initially timid about getting in the water because of the temperature, so I slowly eased myself in and urged him to get in as well. Finally, I pushed off the shore and he jumped in after me--apparently he didn't want to get left behind. Seeing him in the water with me urged me forward and we cleared the first 200 feet in a very short time. I felt pumped up, I was really doing it!
Around the half-way mark I started to lose steam. We saw a rowboat and two kayaks go by and my friend called to them half-serious half-joking to see if they would lend us some help. Instead, the couple in the kayak said, "Nope," laughed and went skiffing on by. I tried to throw my emotions aside but somehow that got to me. Here I was, halfway in the middle of the lake, to go back would be just as hard as to go forward, so the decision was obvious to go forward. I saw my friend and could tell that he too was tired and that this was more challenging than we thought it would be, and the thought crossed my mind of: what if we don't make it?
As a toddler I took early swimming lessons and drowned--only time I've made it into a newspaper actually. It took me a long time and my parents' prodding to get me over that fear. That being said, if someone told me that there were still aspects of that that lingered in my sub-conscious, I'd believe them.
I continued, changed my swimming pattern to a more buoyant one so I could push forward, and a part of my mind switched from "what if we don't make it," to, "what if I don't make it?" Sadly, in a situation like that you have to be sensible and save yourself rather than lose both of you. I stopped watching my friend (I was in front of him doing back strokes) and focused on just making it to the other side.
Obviously, I made it to the other side since I'm here to tell the story. Upon turning around after thinking I had doubled my distance, I saw the rock and my energy renewed for me to make the rest of the distance. 500ft isn't even a half mile. People swim a full mile all the time. I could probably swim a full mile in a public pool though I've never tried--but should! When I made it to the shore I can remember not being tired--it wasn't the physical strain that worried me.
We took our shirts off, set them out to dry and went hiking around the rock to keep warm--again, I use this as evidence that I wasn't tired. Possibly out of breath, but that's because I need to work on my breathing, and as my MMA Sensei taught me: "You control your breathing, your breathing doesn't control you," so my gasping for air is irrelevant.
I would like to think I'm a hero, but I know I'm just an average joe that tries to do outstanding things and sometimes actually does them. When we got to the rock I was still scared--that's all any of this was, was fear--and so I didn't actually jump back in the water. In fact, we both resorted to seeking the help of a more friendly individual who ferried us across the lake--Thank you, Dan, and anyone else out there like you!
When we got back to our truck and were safe, I had had time to think about this whole ordeal. I've never had an experience like this before but I recall reading about John Muir's experiences that were similar to this. Muir would constantly get into situations where he was faced with life or death and he chose to carry on with life and then after reflecting about the experience he learned more about life in that moment--about himself, and about god (he believed in an omnipotent being)--than at any other time in his life.
The big thing that I learned from this experience is that fear is very powerful and real. I went from being pumped up to having thoughts in the back of my mind telling me to just give up and quit. Yes, I was pushing myself to do something I had never done before, but when I set out to do it the thought never crossed my mind that it would be that difficult. I didn't take into account that I would lose motivation right in the very center--at the longest point to either shore. I didn't take into consideration that if I really did need assistance no one was going to give it. I also didn't consider that seeing my friend's pace slow would affect my own pace.
This whole experience was more of a mental game than anything. I've never had such an overwhelming mental experience like this before that I can remember. I'm glad this experience has happened to me because I walk away knowing more about myself and about people in general, and next time I'm going to come prepared.
My friend and I have committed to make the swim again in the future--only with a few more safety precautions--though there is a more important commitment that I need to make. The next time I face a mental battle with fear or doubt or "I can't," I'm going to remember this day. I'm going to remember that no one was going to rescue me if I didn't make it. I'm going to remember that I had the physical abilities within me to make it through to the end--and I knew this going into the situation. Lastly, I'm going to remember that fear is very real and powerful enough to cripple anyone, and so the next time I see someone going at something like it's life or death or like it's their one true passion--I'm going to be more human and I'm going to cheer for them, root for them, and if they need me I'm going to help them, because humans are powerful beings--they just don't know it because they're crippled by fear. #embracehumanity
[sadly, my biggest regret of the day was not bringing my GoPro with me--it was in the truck the whole time!]
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