Treading water to go the Distance

I am a sinker.  It’s just a lack of physical buoyancy that I was born with.  It took a long time to come to some personal acceptance about that.  After all, we live in a state of 10,000 lakes, one of which was just a couple blocks from my house growing up.  So, not being able to float was a major challenge I never wanted to actually admit.

I remember an early test of this after fifth-grade when I attended a summer camp (on a lake) and the first day’s activities included jumping off the dock and treading water. This was to determine who would be allowed to swim out to the floating dock.  And even though I had no intention of going to the dock, the test was required.  I fretted and complained to the counselor and asked if I could at least jump in where it wasn’t over my head. He didn’t seem to get it. I said, “please throw the life ring in immediately.”  When I hit the water and scrambled to the surface the life ring was there.  I guess it was obvious.

My seventh-grade gym class included swimming – but my 3 minutes and 19 second record likely still stands for longest, agonizing 50-yard swim test at the school.  It was a long drawn out inching along the edge with one hand on the pool edge and one trying to paddle, all the while trying to avoid the foot of the instructor as he yelled “let go and swim!”

By high school my desire to at least hang out on the beaches near my home meant I had figured out how to sort of float on my back.  Sort of.  I spent canoe trips in life jackets and learned to make great sand castles.  As a camp counselor during high school and college years I always volunteered to take the shore spot with the non-swimmers. And yet, I still nearly drowned while playing in the water and getting out too far.  The kids were my rescue team.

Many years later, as an adult, I found myself at the lake home of a member of my men’s book club where we were gathering for a weekend retreat, and was invited to take a swim with Brian while waiting for the others to arrive.  My back float and side stroke had improved enough that I was initially willing to say yes, but when he pointed to a large rock across the lake and said that he liked making that his routine swim, I wondered, “exactly how far is that?” and “ Is the water over my head?” I didn’t want to admit my poor swimming skills, and I didn’t want to admit that I had never swum that far in my life before.  Brian seemed pretty confident that it was doable – so I began.  My slow going and struggling seemed to catch his attention along the way and he paced himself to stay pretty close to me.  By the time we reached the landing spot on the far side of the lake I was exhausted.  The truth spilled out.  And while he looked concerned, he also was very proud of my effort to get to this point.   Although it was a long way back, I had indeed made it and could do the same again. Brian’s teacher training kicked in.  I wasn’t sure my strength would hold out, but Brian was clear that we could go as slow as I needed, could float on my back as long as needed to rest, and that he’d stay near me the whole time – treading water if he needed to while I just floated. And so, after resting as long as we could and wanting to get back before the rest of the group showed up and wondered where we were, we started back.  My sidestroke held out.  My floating to rest helped.  Brian’s cheering me on and marking the distance helped.  And when finally, I reached his dock and pulled myself out it was clear how strong one’s survival instinct can be.  That and Brian’s insistence that I could get there at whatever pace it took.

I remembered this adventure (now thankfully many years and many books past) because as a business owner with a large moving/construction debt still looming out ahead of me, I really struggle to imagine getting to the other side.  It seems so far away, and especially with the difficult couple of years that I’ve tread during a downturn in sales/traffic and lack of ease of operations while Nicollet Ave struggles along as a ramp detour, it seems I’m only at the halfway point and must do it all over again for another two years.  This winter I feel like I’ve been sitting on the large rock at the far side of the lake looking back at the dock and thinking, really? I just barely made it this far.  I’m exhausted, and I have to do it again?  Isn’t it obvious I’m a sinker?

Fortunately, I have lots of Brians around me these days.  Experienced business people who’ve made this journey before and new friends excited to cheer me along.  Some who had no idea I couldn’t swim and some who are just fine with it and happy to sit on the shore with me.  It will take all of the support I can find to get back to that dock where more friends wait and great conversations continue.

I am still a couple years away from paying off the construction loans and debts that weigh me down in the water.  I am still a couple years away from cash flow that will allow less stressful bank statement watching and bill pay monitoring.  I am still a couple years away from the ability to invest more in my business, my staff and my-self.  It’s a long back float, holding my breath, kicking along, and perhaps even learning to tread water when I need to.   

Thank you for being ready to toss a ring in the water though – It is still a lot further than I’ll have ever swum before – and I’m ready to jump back in.

 

Butter Bakery Admin