You know it's a good weekend when

You get so sunburned you can barely move.

Ok, so my sunburn wasn't THAT bad. But it was close.

My old roommates invited me to go with them to Deer Creek Reservoir this weekend to go swimming and float in an inner tube. I thought it sounded like a blast, so I jumped at the chance to go along.

And it WAS a blast.

Even though I almost died.

Okay, now I'm sure you're saying, "Karen, let's not be over dramatic here. Maybe you had a scary experience, but you didn't almost die."

To that, I would say, okay. Maybe you're right.

Long story short: Michelle, her cousin, and I used the tubes to cross the reservoir and swim to an island in the middle. On the island we found a rope swing (which we played on) and a single pink flip flop (which we used to walk around). When we left the island, the wind started to pick up.

I am not a strong swimmer.

As we swam back to the mainland, I couldn't keep up with Michelle and her cousin. I was tired, and the waves in the reservoir were getting stronger and more constant.

I tried different swimming in different positions in the tube to try and make some headway. No good.

So I tried going under my tube and holding on to its handles to swim to shore.

But this is where I freaked out. Literally.

I was far away from everyone. Tired. Water was getting into my mouth. My tube flipped over. I couldn't get above the surface. I couldn't flip the tube back over and climb on. More water in my mouth. No one on shore noticed that I was struggling. Everyone was so far away.

And I knew that if I didn't calm down, I could die. I knew I was tired. My muscles were lethargic, and my movements slow. I was pretty far from shore and had no idea how I was going to get back.

I managed to rope my arm through my tube and hold on. From there, I flipped it over and climbed in. And rested.

I imagined what my fate from here would be. I knew I was at least safe in the tube. Unless some boat came along and didn't see me. But at least I knew my tube could float me back to shore--though it may not have been the shore I had entered the reservoir on. And although I didn't have shoes on (because I was swimming) I felt like walking on shore was better than drowning in the lake.

In my minds eye, I saw myself floating farther and farther away from everyone. But at least I was seeing myself alive. (When I was freaking out earlier, all I could see was murky, green water closing over my head.)

After I calmed myself back down, I looked up and realized that Michelle was swimming back toward me.

She basically pushed me to shore (albeit, not our shore). The current was too strong for us to get back to where we had originally left from. When we finally got to the rocks, we pulled ourselves out of the reservoir and walked back to the car.

I should point out that I use the word "walk" loosely.

Michelle, thankfully, is a very strong swimmer. She's taken a couple of swimming classes at BYU, and swimming is her favorite thing.

Michelle saved my life.

Though we were tired, the walk back did us some good. And when we got back to our friends, we found that they had gotten Wendy's for us while we were out in the reservoir. I didn't know how hungry I was until I had the food in my hands. And then I (very gratefully) gobbled down the burger and fries.

All of us were tired from swimming (some of us more than others) so we laid on the beach for a while before deflating our tubes and heading home.

And let me tell you, when I got home, I was tomato-red. I had been wearing a hat for part of the afternoon, so my face was spared a good deal of burning. But my arms and shoulders were as red as the Fourth of July flip-flops I bought at Wal-Mart. (Really. I compared them. They were the same shade of red.)

So the moral of this story:
It's not actually better to be dead than red. (But don't tell my Aunt Margaret I admitted that.)

And friends don't let friends float away and/or die.

Or maybe it's simply: next time, I'll wear a life jacket.


**Note: despite this scary experience, I would totally go out there again. Just, maybe not all the way to the island. In fact, I bought tubes for both Tyler and me so we can go do this again. Minus the almost dying stuff.