Tuesday, July 29, 2025 – Day 350

Tuesday, July 29, 2025

Good morning family, friends, and fans!

Yesterday was a mixed bag—I logged fall #11. The good news? No injuries. Either I’m blessed with a layer of protective bubble wrap, or I’m just on a lucky streak. So far, the damage report includes only scrapes, bruises, and the occasional headache.

It was another gorgeous day up here, and most of it was spent on the lake zipping around on the pontoon—towing paddle boards, water skiers, or just cruising with the kids.

Not wanting to be left out, I asked if the crew would help get me onto a paddle board and pull me behind the boat. They didn’t even blink—just sprang into action. These days, it really does take an army to get me into and out of the water safely. My arms still have some strength, but my legs are operating at 5–10% of their former Ironman days.

Before heading down to the lake, Step 1 was wrapping my torso—waist to armpits—in Saran Wrap to protect the feeding tube. This required two people and some careful spinning on my part grabbing the girls periodically to keep from falling down. I know what you’re thinking…it was all innocent. Katie and Cindy handled the waterproofing detail like pros. When they were done, I was fully leak-proof—and sweating like a guy in a sauna wearing a seaweed wrap. Somebody bring me a beer, please.

Then came the lift car descent. Zack took the controls this time and got me down to the lake in one piece. Alex stood by as catcher, though I’m fairly certain he was also scouting an escape route, just in case gravity staged a coup…his engineer mind saying there’s too much weight to catch. Luckily, no tumbles—just a smooth descent.

Next up: the boat. I climbed aboard while Alex and Zack retrieved the paddle board—which, as it turned out, was still hibernating in the garage from last winter. Steve helped dig it out, and the air pump was found and put to work. Meanwhile, I enjoyed my personal detox wrap under the blazing sun. Seriously—another beer, anyone?

Fifteen minutes later, we were off: six adults, three kids, and one guy wrapped like a burrito, aiming for aquatic glory. Since we’d missed the Minocqua Bats ski show the night before, I was the substitute entertainment. Everyone had their phones out—ready to capture either a small miracle or an epic wipeout. Lis and Steve stayed behind, likely unsure whether this was one of my braver moments or just a poorly thought-out stunt. Either way, their insurance premiums remained safe.

Out in the deeper water, Alex jumped in and steadied the paddle board while Katie helped guide me down the ladder. My legs were just strong enough to make the descent and plop me onto the board. I was still dry from the waist up—victory #1. Alex towed me out of the prop zone, Zack got the boat in gear, and once Alex climbed back aboard, we were ready.

I gripped the center strap like a rodeo cowboy—both hands locked in. I gave Zack a nod (thumbs up wasn’t an option), and we took off…slow and steady. I released one hand to flash a real thumbs-up and signal for more speed. Everything felt great. So I gave another thumbs-up and we kicked it up again.

It felt amazing—thrilling, even. I leaned side to side, trying to surf the wake. Zack saw what I was doing and gently turned the boat to help me cross over. I gave it a final lean to move outside the wake. I cleared it… almost. At the peak of the wake, my balance gave out, and I fell off the board. Face first. I instinctively reached for my sunglasses (priorities), and down I went.

When I came up, I gave the boat a wave to signal I was okay. But then I suddenly wasn’t. I tried to inhale—and nothing. I swallowed some lake water, and it locked up my lungs. Every attempt to breathe felt like trying to suck air through a vacuum-sealed bag. No air in, no air out.

Alex saw I was in trouble and dove in, flipping me onto my back in a rescue position. He swam me back to the boat, and thankfully, as he pulled me along, I started to get tiny bits of air. At the ladder, I planted my feet while Zack grabbed the life vest and hauled me back aboard. Katie and Zack got me settled, and I focused on breathing slowly, trying to explain what happened in choppy phrases.

After a few minutes, Zack turned to me and asked, “Want to go again?” Immediate “no.” “Maybe tomorrow.”

At that moment, I just wanted to bask in the weird glory of actually riding behind a boat. The Saran Wrap did its job—no leaks—though I was drenched with sweat by the end.

All in all, I’d call it a win. Next time, we’ll lengthen the tow rope to smooth out the ride and keep me away from the churn. I still want to carve outside the wake into the quiet water… but maybe with a few new safety protocols. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Have a great Tuesday. Love you guys! ❤️