Too Hot to Handle

Happy New Year one and all!

The last time you left us, we had just completed a Battle Royal of Capture the Flag.  Upon returning to the hotel, we managed to lick our wounds, wash our hair, doll ourselves up, and head to Fort Myers Beach to ring in the new year.

The good people at Nemo's on the Beach, welcomed us with open arms for the second December 31st in a row.  It was slightly more crowded this year, but when arrived on the beach side of the restaurant, there were seven tables ready for us with a friendly staff eager to provide us with all of the comforts of home.  We ate well, relaxed with our friends, socialized with locals and headed for the pier for Midnight Fireworks.

This morning, after a quick five-hour nap, we alertly trekked back on the bus for our second annual Sunrise Gulf Swim.  We started this tradition last year, greeting the new year on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico as we witnessed the sunrise while voluntarily airing our grievances and expressing resolutions that would improve our quality of life.  We stretched together, jogged about one mile towards the rising sun, admired the fiery clouds above, and retreated back to our belongings to prepare for our little splash-around in the Gulf. 

Now last year's tale of bravery was well documented and this year will, undoubtedly, be accompanied by more stories that will demonstrate true resolve in the face of seamless demise.

Below is a first-hand perspective from the head coach of Howard Swimming and Diving.  Please enjoy:

When I touched the Gulf after our jog, I was slightly nervous about all of the seashells that were lining the water.  Last year, I was really proud of our team following me into the sea with so many birds of prey scouring overhead.  It was best not to think about the all of those shells and to just run in the water as fast as you could until your legs gave way and the swim was on.  This year began slightly differently.  Cassy had already submerged herself about five feet from shore and she looked rather uncomfortable, almost as if she had been slugged ten times in the ribs.  Nevertheless, I knew that it was important to continue tradition by sprinting onward.

"I'm swimming for the buoy that's about 200 yards out and then making a right," I explained to the team.  "We'll go for a while and then turn back around."  Simple enough.

Off I went.  I eluded the sharp shells that inhabit the sandy terrain and made my way towards to buoy.  About seven seconds into the swim, I remember thinking, "I don't remember the Gulf tingling my skin this much.  It's not that bad...I think we'll be fine."

I plowed ahead with my out-of-shape self for about 50 yards or so until I could no longer focus my attention on the buoy.  I kept hearing these blood-curdling noises coming from behind me that writhed with such anguish and fear that I was momentarily worried that someone had been bitten, or worse, had lost their goggles.  Secretly, I think the team had a bet to see who could yell the loudest so to attract our pelican friends.  I didn't understand but found it slightly humorous.

Brewer, Monique and Cassy had met me and their faces expressed slight concern.  "I wonder if their caps are falling off," I remember thinking.  I guess that's what everyone was yelling about.  Never mind that acute sensation in your muscles.  That's just a hurdle that stands in our way of greatness - making it to the buoy and hanging a right was the prize and I know our determination would overcome all things cumbersome.

The three ladies from 329 boldly headed for the buoy, moving their arms as fast as their bodies could physically carry them.  The rest of the team appeared to hit an imaginary brick wall.  Most of them had made it into the water, but why weren't they moving?  I suppose they were nervous about jellyfish or sharks, but I am pretty sure that jellyfish and sharks take national holidays off.  Let it be noted that those jellyfish and sharks would not be allowed on our team because, at Howard University Swimming and Diving, we don't take days off for anyone!

The ladies made it to the buoy and awaited for instruction.  It sounded like they were uttering something about getting back on the bus - maybe they had left their sunscreen between the seats. I said they could head for the "yellow house with the red roof - please make sure to swim for it and not before it."  I had reached the buoy, removed my goggles and basked in the sunshine.  The sun's rays clear and welcoming and for eight seconds, I was at peace.  My eight seconds of tranquility shifted to eight minutes of glaring dismay as no one on the team was within 75 yards of the buoy.  "Knights of Columbus!" I exclaimed, "let's get going."

Some team members had already had their fill of the Gulf - probably too much salt for their liking.  Keely, Chelsea, Kelvin, Summer, Ashley, Zadok, Damjan and Frank all made it to me over the next 15 minutes.  I had drifted further and further with every minute, enjoying looking around me and not finding anyone occupying the water except for us.  It's almost as if the Gulf of Mexico had known we were coming and they didn't want anyone to ruin the experience by getting in our way.  I'm sure there was plenty of water in the Gulf to share with everyone, but the gesture was still much appreciated.

Darien, Steven, Omar and Citizen all made to me last.  It appeared they wanted to challenge themselves and swim farther than the rest of the team.  I give them a lot of credit for staying in the water as long as they did.  We pumped our arms and fired our legs as a burning sensation jolted down our backs from all of the effort we were putting into each stroke.  The men looked like they were getting hungry, so after another 300 feet of following me, they returned to the coast, which at this point, was about 0.28 miles away.  I ventured further - it's not often that I can be in the actual Gulf of Mexico all by myself.  I talked to the seagulls that graced the surface overhead.  I explored underwater in hopes of finding undiscovered species.  It was spectacular.

Off in the distance, four masculine figures emerge from the jaws of the jungle waters.  With arms clenched in triumph, their bravery is unmatched.

But I didn't want to keep the Bison waiting.  I'm sure they wanted to get back and watch some football or call their parents to explain just how magical the experience was.  Once I arrived to the shore, our team headquarters was about 20 houses ahead, so I jogged in their direction, feeling very awake and appreciative that I was a part of 2011's brief, but epic history.

Monique, Cassy and Ashley were all waiting for Darien, Steven, Omar and Citizen to return.  They were much more nostalgic about their experience, walking gingerly back, heads down in an unbelievable accomplishment.  There's a reason there is a Man's Club on our team, and now I finally understood why - for fleeting moments like this.

I know that each of the Bison that braved the salty waters will revisit these glorious memories and gladly share them, possibly from a different perspective.  I know they are each proud that 2011 is here and they have endured such harsh training.  I certainly am very thankful for them.

Nothing can stand in the way of these physical specimens.