Great Lake Swimmer

 I’m an ocean swimmer.  Or, at least, I’ve always classified myself as such.  Lakes seemed stagnant and inert to me, having grown up completely surrounded by a vast and unending ocean.  I’ve recently found myself living at the very top of Lake Ontario, and I’ve been drawn into the water many times in the past week.  I begrudgingly admit that the lake beaches are beautiful, even though my heart lies in the crescent sandbar that I’ll always call home. 

Lake water is warm and inviting (at least compared to the North Atlantic), and lacks the threat of stinging jellyfish.  While at the lake the other day, I swam out further than I’ve ever done before.  I dove for the bottom and couldn’t touch it.  I hit a wall of cold water and kept on going.  My friends on the beach were small and distant.  I swam further.  When swimming in the ocean, it never hurts to exercise caution, and I’ve never really been able to totally put my guard down.  Usually I stay fairly close to the shore, opting to swim along the coastline or just falling into the waves, but not this time- I was going for distance.  I wanted to get as far away as possible.  I’m not sure if it was just the body of water, but something was different.  And I liked it.  I went back the next day, and as the weather had turned slightly colder, I was the only person in the water.  I had the whole lake to myself.  It was both liberating and overwhelming. 

I’m on the island now for a brief visit.  The ocean is calling me.  The salt water that saturates the air here offers a sobering comfort that the lake just doesn’t have. The thought of leaving soon makes my heart ache, but the ocean will be here when I return.  I now know that the lake has things to offer, and can quell this restlessness.  

just like that

And just like that, the whole thing comes to an end.  Another winter over, my time in Kingston drawing to a close, and a master’s degree almost finished.  Deadlines for lab projects, papers, a research project, and exams approach, while a dull, throbbing headache and vague nausea loom. 

I’ve reached the point now where I’m running almost entirely on caffeine and residual alcohol sugars.  Stress has mercifully lessened my normally ravenous appetite, and reduced my need for sleep.  I wish I could operate like this all the time, but it’s not in my nature.  Food and sleep are far too enjoyable.  If the past is any indicator as to how the next few weeks are going to play out, it will be a gradual winding down, until I literally lay down across the finish line. 

Then I head back to the ocean.  That’s always the ultimate goal.