After a restless night, the sky ablaze with lightning and thunder, we didn’t know what to expect when we arrived to the lake shore at 6 AM. The skies were ominous, the water choppy and dark, and there was a nervous energy buzzing amongst all of the 2019 CDA Crossing participants.
It’s always special to be back in North Idaho, sharing my birthplace and hometown of Coeur d’Alene with my wife and daughter. This event has been on our calendar for years. It always falls the 2nd weekend of August; last year was our first time pulling it off. My favorite picture of all time (my forehead pressed against my nervous daughter’s) was taken by my wife last year just before we jumped off the Spirit of the Coeur d’Alene for our big open water swim. It was a most potent and memorable experience to share with my then ten-year-old daughter. She crushed the swim, taking thirteenth overall, but there was a lot of nerves and uncertainty about being dropped off in the middle of Lake Coeur d’Alene for a 1.2 mile swim to shore.
This year the event fell just two weeks after her state swim meet once again, and everything about my daughter’s energy was different, there was a quiet confidence and a sense of knowing–been there, done that–about her. She went from nervous and anxious last year to full on goofball ‘I’ve got this’ mode this year. Last year there was anxiety near the finish after forty minutes of fighting the relentless and rolling waves; this year, midway through the swim she said, “Daddy, can we pick up the pace.” My response, “K-bear, I’m giving it all I’ve got.” She’s fast! At her urging, we picked up the pace, and then when shore was within sight, she threw me a shaka, waited for my thumbs up, and she began reeling people in, weaving her way through other swimmers, finishing like a champ.
I’m so grateful to share this experience and the waters of my youth with my daughter and wife, and my dad and uncle and family friends from CdA. This has become an event that my wife, daughter and I look forward to all year long. I really thought we were going to be stormed out this year, but the thunder and lightning stayed away just long enough for us to swim side by side across Lake Coeur d’Alene (just as my wife predicted). Joy overflowed, seeing the sense of accomplishment all over my daughter’s face following the swim. For this dad, sharing this experience with my daughter is sacred. Am I a proud dad? The proudest.
Having battled a lot of overuse and spondy related injuries over the years, I’m just so grateful that my body is allowing me to share these meaningful and memorable experiences with my daughter and family.
I don’t train in the pool all winter long to compete, or to win. I swim because I love water, because I come from a long line of water lovers, because my body feels better in water than it does on land, and because playing in water is something I’ve shared with my daughter since she was a baby, it’s always been our element. But swimming and playing in rivers and lakes and oceans is far different than training in the chlorinated waters of the dark, dungeon of a pool I call home all fall, winter and spring. Training in the pool isn’t fun. The art of freestyle swimming isn’t something that comes easily for me, as I didn’t grow up competing as a swimmer, so I can’t just show up to an open water event and pull it off. But sharing these experiences with my daughter are all the reminders I need to get me through another long winter of jumping into cold water and staring at a black line for hours on end. Hopefully, by training smart, by listening to my body, and by reminding myself why I swim, I’ll be in good enough swim form to keep this ritual alive, sharing this experience with my daughter for many August’s to come.
WNBL, MWL