Seaweed and Supplications

This morning I did something I haven't done in 20 years--an open water swim. It was full of firsts--first wetsuit swim, first time wearing a timing chip on my leg for a swim instead of a run, first time entering a swimming race and not knowing what the heck I was doing. I needed help getting my wetsuit zipped up. I had to wear my bib number inside my swimming cap to turn in at the end of the race (???). And let's just say that figuring out when and how often to go to the bathroom prior to coating myself in latex was a challenge.

I like ocean swims and pool swims, but I don't like weird, big-leaf seaweed. Which was, of course, ubiquitous in the Chesapeake Bay this morning. And the bottom was mushy-silty mud, which is not as nice as hard packed beach sand or the smooth tiled bottom of a chlorine pool. In a word, blech.

Other wisdom from this experience: I've decided that swimming with a wetsuit is like putting a tourniquet around your neck and then doing jumping jacks. Next time, no wetsuit.

I did this swim at a leisurely pace (really, those who know me from my college days, it is true--no racing). The first one-third of the swim was a free-for-all, arms and legs battering me from all around as everyone positioned for 6 feet of open water all to themselves. The second one-third was the best, with mostly open water, and the last one-third was confusing (I couldn't find the bouys and zig-zagged most of the way to the finish).

Half way though, it occurred to me to pray. Here I was, on a really beautiful summer morning, and I was in the Bay, and I hadn't thanked God for the opportunity to be healthy enough to participate in this event. Now, it would have been holier to pray before the race, but I can't lie-I didn't. In fact, during the last third of the race, I actually prayed for the shore to come out and meet me, because I was over it by that time.

I dragged myself out of the Bay, ran across the electronic time mat, and was happy to have simply finished. I didn't care about my place. All good. Then I checked my place and it was higher than I thought I could do, not having trained for it and surely not being in good swimming shape for it.

What happened then? I was really happy for a few minutes, and then I was mad at the fact that I should have, could have, trained for this event and then placed higher.

Here is a truth about me. I can always kill my own good time.

I should have prayed (before, after, in the middle of the race) for the grace to be happy with myself and the events of the day, whatever they might be. But God graced me with that peace later in the day, even though I didn't ask, and surely don't deserve it.

He's a cool God.