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I stand on the gunwale,
packing my round
Wisconsin self
into last year's wetsuit.
Out of the radio
pops Lyle Lovett
crooning Long Tall Texan.
Huh.
Dripping sweat
and nervous to my toes,
I take the plunge.
I am rewarded
with 59 degree water
in my suit
up my nose.
My wetsuit remembers
and bobs me to the surface
I give the boat one last look
and turn my face into the water
ready to meet it on its terms.
They are chilly terms.
Chilly to my cheeks
Chilly to my hands.
Invigorating
Exhilarating
chilly terms.
I first train myself to use my breath
Happy exhalations
bubble and gurgle
warming my face
For my hands there is only
Swim Faster
But that's short and choppy
a Wisconsinite in the water
I need to be Texan.
I stretch and reach
adding inches to my frame
I catch it and I pull it
Cold water getting shoveled.
Now the warmth is there
generated from within
My face is shining
my spirit on fire
I close my eyes
swimming blind
to better hear the bubbles
to better feel the sun
to better stretch and reach.
It took me 40 minutes
but I emerged from that water
a Long Tall Texan.