Day Nine

There's No Way Back From Here. Pleased To Meet You, Take My Hand.

Pete, Frank and I pulled into Austin, Texas, pretty late in the morning. Up until this point, We've never driven past 1AM and it was 3AM. At about 1AM, I noticed Pete was deliriously tired, and I took over. We'd been tagging in and out since Nevada, but this time more than any other, it was clear we had to switch up. I was also tired but caught a second wind. I didn't notice how tired Pete was until he was answering different questions than the ones that I was asking, like "Hey, Pete, do you like music?" and then he'd say something to the effect of "bananas are cool, but I like apples better." And then I decided Pete was no longer fit to do anything and threw him off the wheel.

We arrived to Pete's friend Allison's apartment and we both dropped out pretty quickly. In the morning, about noon, we went to a quaint urban outdoor food truck spot and got some tacos and then we went to this outdoor park that had a lake and walked around a bit. At one point we noticed across from where we were was a rope swing. As we tried to get Frankenstein to cross the water to the swing with us he adamantly protested. Pete decided to hold back and wait for us to swing and come back. Now, I am not a good swimmer. I'm not even a bad swimmer. Anything that I know about swimming I learned from a dog. So, this whole swimming across and back is completely on me and my fault. Allison decides to go to the swing and I'm thinking about it cause it could be fun, right? You see them in movies, not in Boston. When Allison is at the halfway point, I decide, "eff this, I'm going to swing." Big mistake, tough guy.

I take off and I seem to be doing really well for my usual swimming ability and I make it to the other side but, I'm out of shape, and inevitably tired when I cross. I get there, rest for ten minutes, do the swing and scream the only battle cry I know on the way into the water, "HENDERSON!" It was thrilling, exciting, and something I'd never usually do, which was a partial incentive to do it in the first place. We should all stand outside comfort zones or we won't have a story like the one I'm telling you now. Let's go, folks. Get out of your comfort zones. Unless it involves swimming and you don't know how to.

On the way back from the swing, I definitely almost died. I started out swimming back and before the half way point, I look up to realize that the current is now against me and I'm losing my breath. So, I flip to my back and start doing the backstroke, not a euphemism but the swimming maneuver, and I do that to rest for a few minutes and gain some energy. At this point I'm talking to myself in my head saying things like, "Don't worry, dude, you've got this. You went to one side, you can get to the other." When I flip back over to see where I am in relation to the shore, I am now headed in the wrong direction since I've been pushed by the current. Like any person feeling like they are about to drown, I start panicking. I see Allison, who is having no problem whatsoever, and I'm trying to explain to her that I can't do this and simply won't be making it to shore. She not a lifeguard, and that's not her fault, but she's the closest person to me and I'm looking to her for help that she can't give me. She says to do the back stroke again. So, I try it again. I rest up. Doesn't work. Again, I'm going in the wrong direction. I'm now pleading with Allison for help, but honestly, what could she do? She can't carry me out of the water and certainly not while I'm acting like a panic-stricken, flailing idiot. And then my leg starts to cramp, like the situation needed to get worse.

I can hardly communicate anything. I'm nervous and breathing is an issue. So, after what feels like forever, I go to the backstroke again. It's silent. I'm keeping my breathing orifices above water which occasionally get splashed by the current. For some reason, I can't seem to figure out how to backstroke without the water pushing me the wrong way. At this point, I am done. Floating on my back, deaf to the above-water world, and primitively maintaining my breathing which has begun to relax, probably because of exhaustion. Finally, I have a moment. One where I realize that since my tired body is limited in its abilities, I now have to rely on my brain to get me out of this. Usually my brain is my go to tool, but with the panic and struggle, it shut off for a while.

Looking up, on my back, there are these clouds, one that is in a V formation and another that looks like the spade you would find in a deck of cards. I start using them to direct myself. But then, my now functioning brain, corrects my alignment to compensate for the current. And like I've solved a riddle or something, I couldn't be more pleased or impressed by my reaction to impending doom. Shortly after that, I made it. When I got to shore, I sat for five minutes soaked in only my boxer briefs, shameless and thankful to be alive.

Growing up, my favorite TV show was MacGyver. I get laughed at a lot when I try to defend MacGyver's honor as a great character, a guy that uses his brain and resources to resolve his problems, but years as a child sitting on a couch eating Cool Ranch Doritos while watching MacGyver may have saved my life today. Thanks, MacGyver.

The rest of that day, I didn't have much to say. Just sat and thought about be alive. I hopped on a bus to Dallas. The first time me and Peter have separated for the trip. For three hours, from Austin to Dallas, I listened to the Foo Fighters CD, In Your Honor, an album that is very much about life and death, an album that I can relate to even more now.

Off to see my friend dfghj.