So I'm Going to Become a Swimmer

Did you know that octopuses can recognize and familiarize human faces?

So that means that if you visit your local aquarium on an almost- monthly basis, that gorgeous 8-armed creature in the viewing tank with the narrow-slit eyes does notice you- not only does he notice you, he remembers you.

And if you're that douchebag tapping on the case, or bobbling the surface of the water, trying to get the octopus to grab your finger, and he remembers you- he's likely to turn a vibrant shade of aggressive red and retreat to the opposite side of the tank.

But if he just stares back at you, moves closer, and his coloring is smooth and pale- does not change in pattern, density or shade- he's likely to approve of your presence.

And maybe, just maybe, he looks forward to the next time you two can have another wordless conversation.

Lovers,

I've decided to become a swimmer.

I mean that literally and figuratively.  Professionally and recreationally.  Purposefully and accidentally.

2 things:

1.  I have been promised surf lessons on the condition that I train myself by working up to the physical capacity of surviving daily 45-minute lap sessions and by learning how to hold my breath for at least two minutes.  (This is not at all an impressive accomplishment- most professional surfers can hold their breath for up to 4 minutes or longer if the dangerous occasion arises, but hey, 120 seconds is a long freaking time for recreational swimmers, okay?!)

I'm fairly certain that the only reasons my friends have promised me these lessons is because they're positive I won't stick with it.  But they have no idea what my endurance is capable of- and they also have no insight into the desire I've had to surf for my entire life, and they are completely oblivious to the fire it burns in my soul every. single. day.


In effect, I HAVE TO PROVE THEM WRONG.  I must prove them wrong on a strictly competitive level, and on a level much deeper than mere competition.  If this is my only shot in life to ride a wave, then, shoot- I better start taking it seriously, right?

2. I have not only decided to swim for surfing, but I have realized recently that marine biology is, in all honesty, where it's at, future-wise.  I mean let's be honest folks, from the days of my toddling youth, scampering in the woods digging for salamanders and asking my mother to let me keep potato bugs as pets, to my high school summer days spent volunteering at the Oregon Zoo, holding cockroaches  and cleaning endless piles of goat poop and loving EVERY minute of it, to standing in the freezing, winding, raining elements for hours and hours during the day just to be able to share in a Midwesterner's first exciting contact with a green sea anemone at Haystack this past year, I'm sort of a born naturalist.

My parents used to buy me shark encyclopedias for my 8th birthday, and for Christmas, and whenever we visited aquariums, which I loved.  One of my earliest memories involves Shamu.  I had a book, I remembered the stories on the television- I was in love with that orca. 

Intensely little known fact about me: Free Willy used to be my favorite movie of all time.

The first time I ever went to Seaworld, I almost cried because I wanted to work with dolphins so bad I could hardly stand it.

Let's not forget that I watched Animal Planet and Discovery Channel more than I ever watched cartoons when I was growing up. 

Shark Week is my favorite week of the year.

Aquariums literally soothe my anxiety.  I recently discovered this, because a few weeks ago I had a panic/anxiety attack relapse for the first time in over a year and the only thing that sounded soothing was to be inside an aquarium- lucky for me, the Portland Aquarium recently opened, and so I hi-tailed it over there "ASAPLEASE" and for the next 1.5 hours as I silently watched the marine world around me, I felt incredibly calm.



I  mean, I pay money to watch the newest ocean documentaries.


All I EVER want to write about, and all I ever do end up writing about, really, are fairy tales about mermaids and lengthy descriptions of the sea and all of the life within it, and  I use wave metaphors, and sand metaphors, and ocean metaphors in literally everything I write.

Okay, okay- remember when they found that giant squid off the coast of Japan recently?

You do not even want to KNOW how excited I got about that.  I talked about it for DAYS.  Just ask my family.  They remember that, too.


I have an entire board on pinterest dedicated to the photography of coastal reefs and ocean creatures. That pinterest board makes me happier than ANY OTHER PINTEREST BOARD I'VE EVER MADE.  Including the one solely for dreadlocks, and the one for trucker hats, and the one for my ideal MAN.

.... I had a point to all of this.....

Oh yeah.  The point is, that if I do follow this marine biology trail of bread crumbs- I'm going to need to be a strong swimmer.  Especially because the path I'd like to take with it involves researching the behavioral science of sharks in the wild, which, as you can probably ascertain, involves open sea dives.  Lots of them. (By the way, I can't help but feel like that just makes me sound cool.)

So. 

Swimming. 

My new goal is to spend at least 5 days (preferably 6, in a perfect, idyllic world, 7) a week swimming for as long as I can- until I can at least get to 45 minutes a day. Then after I meet that goal, I'll probably set a new goal, of an hour- or an hour and a half.  Maybe someday I'll be able to hold my breath for 4 minutes, too.

So I tried it out yesterday for the first time- I'm already itching to get back into the water.  It's day 2 and I'm already dreaming of bumper stickers that read, "I'd rather be swimming,"  and taking classes on breathing techniques and that cool rock-walking -under-the-surface-of-the-water training you see in all the surf movies.

I'm starting off as a pretty strong swimmer, I learned young and fast and practiced often when I was little in my grandparents in-ground pool.



I didn't last anywhere near 45 minutes, but I'm staying positive.  I still felt proud of my 20 minutes, nonstop ten full laps- I wanted to keep going because even though every inch of my body was burning, I was having FUN.

But my legs were about to start cramping- and the pool was 10 feet deep, and I decided soundly that it was not quite a good day to drown.

So I packed up and went home feeling intensely invigorated.

I'm excited about this new phase of life, lovers.

Something is stirring and it feels real good.  Real scientific, and real practical- but real good.

Here's to the future, and to this summer- and for motivation, and discipline- and research.


Maybe, just maybe I'll reward myself with that December 2013 plane ticket to Hawaii for Pipeline, after all. I mean, if I accomplish my goals this year, I'd say I might actually deserve that by the end of 2013:)

Wish me luck, and strong lungs.