Lots of people have confronted me lately, claiming that I’m telling tales in terms of my upcoming swim to Connecticut.
How dare you all!
People keep saying, “Mike, it’s 15 miles. That’s way too far.”
No, it really isn’t.
People swim across the English Channel all the time, and that’s 6 miles farther. There have been people who’ve swum across and then back again. A few people have even swum there, then back, then there again. That’s 63 miles total.
My endeavor is 15 miles- no more, no less.
With my swimming skills and my natural swimmer’s body (my daddy-long-legs), crossing The Sound will be a cake-walk (or should it be a “cake-swim?”).
I’ve always been able to swim. It came naturally to me. I never had to “learn” how to float in the water. I just always could.
Buoyancy is a gift.
“But Mike, you haven’t trained for this.”
I don’t need to train. I know for a fact that I possess the skill, so why bother?
At any given time, I could run a marathon. It wouldn’t be a record-breaking time (because I wouldn’t have trained), but I could finish (with ease, I might add).
If I was told I had to swim from England to France tomorrow morning, I‘d be totally cool with it. I’d probably keep working for a couple more hours, have dinner, get a normal night’s sleep, then wake up and swim the 21 miles.
People don’t have enough trust in their own abilities.
Obviously, confidence can’t compete with facts, though.
If somebody told me I had to race Michael Phelps in a swim across the English Channel tomorrow, I couldn’t outswim him, obviously. But, and I’m being perfectly honest right now, if somebody told me I had to beat Michael Phelps in a swim-race 5 years from now, I’d train constantly, and I would beat Michael Phelps.
If I wanted to, I could be an Olympic Swimmer. I could bring home the gold for the US for at least 3 summer Olympic games (2024, 2028, and 2032). Then, my body would start to deteriorate, and I wouldn’t be able to compete in 2036.
“Why don’t you do it then, Mike?”
Truly, I have no desire. Just because I can do something doesn’t mean I should do it.
“Yeah—you’re probably just saying that because you know you can’t do it.”
Ok? I don’t understand your argument. You’re basically asking me to burn through the next 5 years of my life training for the 2024 Summer Olympic Games, and then burn through the following 8 years of my life training for the next 2 Summer Olympic Games just to prove a point. I know I’m capable of it. Impressing other people has absolutely no value to me. I need only impress myself.
“That’s a good point. I’m not so sure I have a come-back for that.”
That’s because you’re a moron.
“But, you’re the one creating these hypothetical questions. Doesn’t that mean… you’re the moron?”
I’m not a moron; you’re a moron.
“Again, you’re writing both my questions and your own responses, so you’re calling yourself a moron. I’m you, and you’re calling me a moron. So, you’re calling yourself a moron.”
Why would I call myself a moron?
“No, you called me a moron, and you are me. So, you’re calling us both morons, but we’re both just me.”
This is going really off the rails. You’re a moron. Watch me swim across the Long Island Sound. Just watch me, trashbag.
Until next time,
Michael J. Erickson, CEO & Co-Founder
