I opened my heavy eyes and judging by the dim light that snuck through the shades I figured it was early morning. There were no blaring sounds of alarm clocks that usually pry me from my deep sleep, so why was I awake? I looked over at the time, 6:30am glowed bright red from all three of my digital clocks. I remembered setting my alarms for 6:35am, but for what? It was a Saturday morning, what in God's name could have had me up that.."Oh snap!" I said. My heart started to thump a little harder and a little faster as I remembered that today was my first ocean race, my first actual competition since summer swimming before I left for bootcamp.

I rolled off my rack and turned off my alarms that were about to unleash their incessant fury on the silence of my empty room. The temporary room provided for me while I was qualifying at the rifle range for the past two weeks was plain as can be, the only possesions I had with me were my camoflauge utility uniforms and some combat gear which was shoved into my wooden wall locker in the corner of the room. The rest of the room consisted of white walls and two racks with no linen or pillows.

I quickly brushed my teeth and washed my face while standing on my toes -- I hate cold tile floors. I shook my desert camoflauge backpack upside down, emptying it of my flak jacket and rifle sling and threw in my towel, race suit, and a gatorade. I slipped on some motivated, red, USMC gym shorts, a shirt and my thick gray hoody that I bought back in the States a couple days before coming to Okinawa. Usually a t-shirt is even too hot for a average day on this tropical island, but judging from the cool crisp air that filled my room from the open window, I figured a hoody was necessary. I glanced askance at my clock as I ran out, 6:40am. My ride to the race was meeting me at the pool around 7:00am.

I flew out of the barracks and ran under the heavy clouds and through the ocean mist that covers this island every morning. I passed the chow hall at the bottom of the hill and came to a three way intersection, turning left and continued to run; I could already feel my body getting uncomfortably warm under my layers of clothes. Hot. Sticky. Although the temperature was pretty low, the air is always humid, so I sweat. Beads formed on my forehead and my glasses slipped down my nose -- my stupid glasses -- I hate those things. By the time I gave up trying to figure out why I stopped wearing my contacts, I found myself breathing heavily in the empty parking lot of the community pool.

A look at my watch, 6:45am. Plenty of time.

I walked up the steps, dropped my pack on the concrete and sat down, resting on the steel office door of the pool. My eyes were heavy. The world went black.

My unplanned nap was interrupted and the black walls of sleep shattered as light peirced my eyes, opened when Matt, a lifeguard and my most feirce competitor, shook me awake. "Ready to go?" he asked. "Yeah, let's roll." I answered, still getting my baring. He helped me up, I grabbed my pack and we walked over to Meghan's van. She yelled over the blaring rock from the stereo, Nirvana, "Jimmy, you're gonna have to find a way to get comfortable in the back, sorry." The back of the van was stuffed like the stomach of a toddler who got a hold of the cookie jar. Meghan and Charlie are both triathletes and were planning to ride the 30 miles back after the ocean race.

I made my way into the back and found a spot where handle bars and pedals weren't jutting into my side. The music was loud, they talked about the race, I fell asleep.

The black walls of my sweet sleep were once again shattered when Charlie opened the van door; I almost slid out. "Were here, let's go warm up!". I looked at Charlie, and thought, 'there is nothing warm about this place'. Camp Schwab, the location of the race is at the northern tip of the island, where the temperature is least ten degrees colder and the sky a little bit darker than the south. I looked out at the dark, white crested, choppy ocean and wondered why I ever agreed to this. I remembered when Charlie interrupted my thoughts, "You ready?".

The feeling of competition came back to me, warmed my blood, and tensed my body. "Hell yeah". "Swimmers, we start in thirty minutes, come to the tent, register, grab some dougnuts and get ready for the race". Swimmers and spectators, mostly Marines and their families, congregated over at the tent. I sat off in the distance in a cool patch of grass, watching the people put on their wet suits, the kids running around in the sand, and lifeguards on kayaks setting up the boueys in the ocean. I closed my eyes as the ocean breeze rushed over the waves, sand and swept past me. The smell of salt filled my lungs; the ominous clouds that hung like swords over our heads moved slowly across the dark sky; the water looked like that of a raging river; and I could only imagine what was under all the chaos. Fish? Sharks? Turtles? Sea snakes? Giant squid?!

I jumped up. No more sitting around and thinking, time to start doing. I jogged around, warming myself up. I did some push-ups, crunches and jumping jacks. My blood started to flow. Charlie came out of the lockerroom down the street, that reminded me I had to change into my suit. I headed over there, passing him as he said, "Hey, better hurry up, we have five minutes." 'Five minutes?!' I thought. 'How did all that time pass so fast?!' I ran the next 50 yards to the lockerroom and changed in a couple seconds, running right back out and down to the beach where the other Marines and swimmers lined up on the starting line. My heart was flying now, I felt like it was going to come right up my throat. The ocean was suddenly a lot bigger, much more vast, surrounding me, as if I were in it already. All the voices around me drowned out. I saw a lifeguard walk over to the clock, he was saying something but for me the world was on mute, all I heard was the ocean, roaring, ready to eat my alive. He put his hand on the start button, and the timer started to count down from ten. I felt a hand on my shoulder, "This is it Jimmy! Did you feel the water yet?!" asked Charlie enthusiastically. I answered reluctantly, "No, I didn't think of it, how is it?" Charlie replied, "Cold."

"BEEP" The siren for GO sounded. We the ran the twenty feet through sand and leapt into the ocean, which hit me like a brick wall of ice. It was freezing! This was nothing like the start of a typical pool race that I've done thousands of times. This was rough, akward and so different. There were big Marines all around me, and we all fell in like penguins. I started to swim, Charlie and I started pulling ahead right away. I couldn't really see anything. But I could see below me. Through the muggy water I could see the ocean floor. I don't like the idea of the ocean, and I didn't like the fact that I was in it. I tried to look up, but I could still see it. I was in the ocean. Holy @#$%.

Charlie and I swam about a foot apart side by side, still sprinting. We were pretty far ahead now, at least twenty feet from the next swimmer. I realized by the tightness of my lungs that I hadn't taken a breath yet. I turned my head, opened my mouth and inhaled what felt like a gallon of fresh Okinawan ocean. I coughed instinctivly, my body tensed. I started to panic. The cold temperature, water in my lungs and fear of the ocean all triggered a very sudden and unwelcomed panic attack. I lost my baring on the world. I felt like I was spinning. Charlie was gone. I was alone. I was still coughing up water, while trying to breathe at the same time, but even when I caught a pocket of air, my panic kept my breaths short. The waves lifted me up and threw me down as if I were a helpless fishing boat in raging typhoon. Other swimmers started to pass me, to the left and right, and right over me. At this point I believed I was going to die, and at this point I remembered reading the article in the paper about the great white shark they caught off the coast of Okinawa. And then there was calm.

A voice inside me spoke and slapped me in the face. "James, get your baring. Calm down and take control. You got this, just calm the fuck down." I stopped flailing, stopped coughing, held what little breath I had and stopped moving. I rolled over onto my back and took a breath. I took another one, and coughing up some salt water. I got a feel for the water, the current, and the waves. I turned back over and started to swim, slow and smooth. I let myself get accustomed to the chaos, and I did what Marines do best, adapt and overcome. My strokes got faster and faster, and my breathing more regular. Every third or fourth breath I'd swallow a mouthful of bitter salt water, but I kept my breathing steady. It was painful and tiring, but I made my way back up to Charlie, who was now forty feet ahead of any competition.

For the next 1400 meters, I stayed on his feet, at times falling back when I choked on water, and veering off the course every 50 meters. The cold subsided as my body heated up, but my fear of the ocean remained, and grew every time I saw a fish or any creature. We got to the 100 meter mark, and that's where I made my move. Although my delts (muscles under the arms, on the side of the ribs) burned like gasoline and my shoulders were pretty much numb, I pulled harder, kicked faster and closed the 15 meter gap inbetween Charlie and I. He had no idea I was coming. Once I pulled right up to his feet, I took a breath, looking forward, and at the same time, he looked back and saw me. The look on his face was priceless. A "holy shit" face.

Instantly, his legs in front of my face kicked harder, and when the bubbles cleared up, I could see he pulled another ten meters ahead. I pushed even harder, but couldn't get any closer. We got to the sand, where we'd have to run the last 20 meters. The transition from swimming to running was extremely akward and abrupt. I found myself crawling a few steps, but I got on my feet and ran like an ostrich, not really feeling my legs or able to move them correctly. We passed the finish line, people were clapping and cheering, Charlie asked, "How you doin?". I almost threw up. I stood there, bent over, about to hurl, feeling like the whole Japanese ocean was in my stomach, it practically was, along with all the coral and fish too. My coach patted me on the back, "you almost had him Jimmy, good job." Over the next twenty minutes, the swimmers and Marines came in one by one, two by two. I noticed then that all of them had wet suits on (suits for diving in cold water). A grizzly tatoo laiden Marine said, "You guys are hardcore, not wearing wetsuits?!" I responded, "Unfortunately hardcore, I couldn't afford that thing!"

The next thirty minutes consisted of stretching out, trying to comprehend what I just did, and drinking a lot of water. I layed out on the grass, and looked up at the now clear sky. The sun beat down on me, giving me a divine massage of heat and comfort. There was a light breeze and sounds of the ocean, which just awhile ago was a raging monster, hanging in the air. It was heaven on earth. My body burned and ached the way I like it, and I couldn't feel any better.

They called everyone to the tent to announce the winners and give out the prizes. Charlie couldn't win the prize because he was an employee of the host organization, so the prize money, 75$ was given to me. I asked if he wanted it, but he said it was alright. From there, Charlie and some other swimmers biked home, and I got a ride to the pool back at my Camp. Once we got there I walked straight over to a patch of grass and took a nice long nap in the bright sun. I woke up, and swam in the pool.

There were no waves, there were no creatures and this was my domain. It felt so right, I felt safe, in the water, my home.