I Almost Swam With the Fishes

August 1, 2006

While swimming and jet skiing the in Ohio River, I got the idea it would be fun to have a biathlon while on the boat. It would be a simple course. Swim from the boat to the Kentucky shore, run about 300 yards to a blue tarp and swim back the 50 yards to our boat. I conviced three other people to join me in this grand plan. It started off fine. I took a commanding lead in the swim portion of the race. And I ran through the muck to reach the shore. I began sprinting along the beach (which I believe led to my downfall and almost drowning) to the cheers of my fellow board members. I reached the blue tarp and ran back to the spot. I made one big mistake in the biathlon, we didn’t adjust for current. So when I began swimming back to the boat and I began to drift further and further away from it. In the mean time, my cohorts in this suicide mission had caught up with me.

About half way between the Kentucky shore and the boat, I felt like I was going to drown, right in the copper tasting Ohio River. Right in front of my fellow board members. Hundreds of miles away from home. I instantly thought of the people who get caught in the Sound every year and drown. I had always wondered how something like that could happen. But with the boat getting further and further away I understood. But somehow I pushed through. I swam hard and fast. Pushing through the current. Pacing myself to reach the intertube rope. And I made it. I pulled myself on the boat and laid there exhausted. I learned an important lesson that day. Despite my good looks and flipper like feet, I am not Aquaman.


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