Thoughts on swimming, training and staying afloat in rough waters and calm seas.

Monday, July 2, 2012

Mermaid Mail- An Open Letter



The letter below was sent to some of my friends and family today. It's meant for anyone who's interested.   If you can help, I would greatly appreciate it.

Dear Friends and Family,

Hot enough for ya?

I'm really sorry for the mass email. I would prefer to call and bother you each individually, to catch up and find out what I've missed on facebook, but this is probably easier.  So to start, congrats on your weddings, babies, graduations, new jobs and new houses. Sorry to hear about all the bad stuff that has, no doubt, touched your life in the days, weeks or months since we've talked. (Please feel free to respond and fill me in on your updates, I really do want to hear from everyone!)

I'm writing because, once again, I'm doing something crazy and need your help.  This year I'm trying again to make it across the Hudson in support of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Many of you supported my swim last year and know that while we trained to swim three miles across, on the day of the event, due to river conditions, we were only allowed to swim one mile parallel to shore.  This year, I want to make it across! 

On some level, yes, this is just about me proving that I can do the physical challenge.  However, in training for the swim last year, I met so many people whose lives had been touched by blood cancers, and heard so many stories, stories of courage, toughness, heartbreak and hope, that fighting blood cancers became my real focus.  As many of you know, while I was recovering from surgeries this spring, I learned that my training partner, Sandy's, husband Tom had been diagnosed with Acute Promyelocytic Leukemia.  Our whole community was devastated.  Luckily, his doctors caught it early and he is making great progress.  He is in remission and his prognosis is good, but I learned firsthand just how devastating these diseases can be to a family, physically, mentally, spiritually and financially.  The LLS was there Sandy and Tom, every step of the way, providing information, advocacy and financial support and so I hope you'll join me in supporting LLS with a contributions at http://pages.teamintraining.org/wch/Hudson12/emilyg.

Your gift is tax deductible and will go a long way to help fund research, patient support and awareness campaigns.  It will also help me make it across the river. Knowing I have the support of friends and family pushes me to get in the pool everyday and wakes me up on weekends to swim in the river.  You are my strength and I need you.  Even a few dollars can make a huge impact on the lives of people living with blood cancers.

Thank you for everything.

Lots of love,
Emily
P.S. Please pass this along to anyone who might be interested. Thanks!

Sunday, July 1, 2012

On being a Mermaid

"A Mermaid" By John William Waterhouse
The other day, I  was struggling with motivation. It was the end of a long day, after a long week, smack in the middle of what has been a pretty long year and I just did not have the motivation to get myself in the pool. I was tired and achy and cranky and just wanted to go make love to my couch. I asked my facebook friends for help and my dear friend Roland simply said "mermaids belong in the water."  Half an hour later I was in the pool. 

I'm not going to claim that it was only centuries ago that my people came out of the water, or that I'm the great great great granddaughter of the mermaids from Peter Pan, but I will say I've always been much more comfortable in the water than out.  A chubby kid who was slow and clumsy on land, I was quick and graceful underwater. I prayed to wake up one morning with gills. When the little mermaid opted for a life on land, just for a guy, I thought she was an idiot. Last weekend I was in NJ for a wedding with my parents, sisters, niece and friends who are essentially family.  As we passed my niece around in the water, I remembered how as children, we used to play mermaids for hours, diving through the water chasing one another and pretending to understand the dolphins as they clicked beneath the waves. I may not biologically be half fish, but, in my heart, I'm really a mermaid.

In training for the swim this year, my inner mermaid has finally surfaced and being in the water has become the most natural thing in the world. Yesterday, I swam with the team in the Hudson, a little more than a mile and a quarter and it felt as natural as breathing. What used to be work has become second nature and I'd rather be swimming than almost anything else. This year, I have little doubt that I will make it across the Hudson, but I am worried that I will fall short on everything else. At work, I am single-handedly responsible for a tag sale of which I want no part , my apartment desperately needs cleaning and I have a long way to go to meet my fundraising goals for this swim. This year the real work will be on land---and I'll need all the help I can get.  I hope you will continue to cheer me on, as you have in the past, keeping me focused and, when you are able, donating to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society in support of my efforts.  

Thank you.