SOUL

Finding wellness in the water.

by ASHLEA WALTER photo by ANDY WAKEMAN

Center, I had no idea what limitless joy I would find. I guess I thought that by the time I reached middle age, I would’ve already tried most things and known what my outdoor passions were. I knew I liked mountain biking, running, hiking, snowboarding and casually jumping in any body of water to cool off, but open-water swimming? Hmmm. How wrong I was, when at 40-something, I found a new true love. Looking back, I don’t remember ever not knowing how to swim. The family story my parents love to tell is that my mom threw me in a pool in Portugal after my older brother was thrown in, right before she remembered that I couldn’t swim. I was 3. I was precocious, but still, 3. Sink or swim, the adage goes. Swim I did, as I came to the surface and never looked back. When I was a kid, I was the first one in a pool and the last one out, sporting shriveled fingers and toes, maybe even a pair of blue lips over Memorial Day weekend in a friend’s just-filled pool. I was on a few swim teams through early high school, but racing was never really my thing; I just loved to be in the water.

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Water makes us feel alive and while swimming is exercise, it’s mostly play. And what adults need more of is just that—play.

I’m not quite crazy enough to swim outside year-round in Northern Michigan, but I want to be someday; I know people who are. Sometimes I overhear their excited chatter in the locker room after logging our weekly swimming pool laps. They talk about the water temperature (40 degrees!) and ponder that they might need a couple more weeks till they jump in. I think, when I’m 75, I want to be like them.

Dip A Toe In With A Good Read

Wild swimmer Ashlea Walter loves these two authors’ perspective on swimming— and on human behavior itself.

Why We Swim

By Bonnie Tsui, Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill

“To live deliberately as a swimmer means you are a seeker…” Tsui writes. New York Times contributor and lifelong swimmer Bonnie Tsui dives into the deep, from the San Francisco Bay to the South China Sea, investigating what it is about water that seduces us, and why we come back to it again and again.

The Joy of Swimming: A Celebration of Our Love for Getting in the Water

By Lisa Congdon, Chronicle Books

Congdon, bestselling author of “Whatever You Are, Be a Good One,” inspires readers to get in the water with real people’s personal stories, illustrated collections of vintage swimming objects and an emphasis on swimming as a way of life.

I’m a wee bit wimpier and usually start to swim outside again with friends in May, sometimes June if we’ve had a real Up North winter. We start out swimming in the inland lakes, usually Cedar Lake near Traverse City because it warms up faster than Mama Lake. Northern Michigan’s inland lakes are mostly predictable, and you barely have to glance at a weather report if heading out early in the morning before the boats wake up. The only other people we ever see are the occasional solo rowers and the adventurous water skiers. It takes a special breed of humans to head out into the water before the sun comes up. I’ve met the coolest people during these early morning encounters before the day gets away from you, and your time is not your own anymore. The lists begin and the day marches on, but you’ve got solitude, quiet adventure and a form of meditation as you leave shore and begin to make your way through the water.

When I was a kid, I was told over and over to “never swim alone,” and “never swim right after eating,” and while I’m not here to debunk important rules of mothers, these familiar phrases have taken on new meaning. Surely you don’t want to swim alone because of safety reasons. The real reason I don’t swim alone, however, is because some of the most magical times I’ve experienced as an adult have involved stopping to rest on a swim buoy 500 yards or so out from shore and chatting with girlfriends while the sun rises. We talk of the beauty in the day, politics, health, family—no topic is off the table. And whatever is shared out in the water stays in the water. We leave it behind while stroking it out over and over, occasionally spotting some point on shore to stay on track.

By the end of June, swimming in the inland lakes has become placid and calm, bordering on easy and predictable, almost dull. That’s when, as our sea legs slip back on, we rediscover our courage for cold and the uncertainty of conditions as we venture into Grand Traverse Bay.

Things quickly get more interesting. Meditation turns into concentration as waves, wind and quickly changing conditions come into play. You’ve got to be on your game, and we are reminded of why we spent all those hours swimming to nowhere in the pool over the winter. When you’re not worried about your fitness, your heart opens to adventure in the open water. It’s not that we choose the waves exactly, but sometimes the waves choose us; the rollers catch you off guard, coming seemingly out of nowhere. Some days I swallow a lot of water and, even hours later, feel the pressure of the crest of the waves in my ears. We’ve had a few harrowing moments when the waves are beating against us and we lose track of each other. One time I thought dramatically for a moment, “This is how people die,” as I was being pummeled relentlessly and couldn’t find my swim partner, but then I realized the waves had pushed me back in and I could stand. I felt alive, I chuckled and sighed.

Spending time immersed in the azure crests and troughs of our Great Lakes has given me a deep respect and passion for this incredibly precious freshwater gift; I invite you to come on in, the water’s fine.

Ashlea Walter is a passionate open-water swimmer. She lives in downtown Traverse City with her family and serves on the Grand Traverse County board of commissioners.

Andy Wakeman is a Northern Michigan-based photographer inspired by the characters and scenic views of his hometown.