A Swim in Two Parts
I left at 3:30 today. This is probably the latest swim I have taken in a couple years. My car is in the shop and I was planning on running to the industrial district of San Clemente to pick it up but at 2:30 I find out that it won’t be ready today. I’ve already put in 8 hours at work and the wind is light and the sun is out. I walk my dog and put my son down for a nap and head to the beach for a dusk swim.
I get to the parking lot and all is very pleasant. Walking down the stairs to the beach I can smell the rosemary bushes and listen to the surf. The sun is low over the horizon but not close to setting yet. It’s light reflects on the water that is textured by a very light breeze providing a nice shimmering effect.
The tide is low and heading for a 0.5 in just about a half hour. The surf is pretty calm. I walk out into the water and quickly come to a sort of mine field of slippery boulders. Fortunately the water is clear and undisturbed here and I can see the rocks easily enough. I end up slipping on one and then I’m in up to my shoulders. Still I keep walking and soon I reach the sand bar and I am ankle deep for several steps. After another 30 feet or so I dive into an oncoming wave and start to swim.
This late afternoon light is great. It’s different from my usual swims. It draws out the color from the water and rocks and the air seems ultra clear and free of mist and haze. The sun gives the entire landscape a sort of orange afterglow. It’s like the alpenglow effect in higher mountain altitudes. The water is dark and almost ominous.
This swim has two distinct parts to it. The first part consists of about the initial hour. The water feels almost warm - at least not frigid and I feel good. The second part consists of the final 25 minutes and I’m tired, cold and my legs are continually cramping. I wouldn’t call this an “extreme” situation but this swim suddenly becomes quite the slog. I’m compelled to see it through and not end early. My thoughts feel like they slip into dream. On the one hand I don’t seem to feel particularly cold. Trust me, I know what particularly cold feels like and this isn’t it. However, I sit here just before my final approach to the shore, my legs are exhausted from cramping and I’m quite ready to be done.
Why is it taking so long for me to do this swim? Why are my legs cramping? Is it the late hour. I usually swim on an empty stomach but I recently had coffee and oatmeal. Is it true after all about going into the water just after eating?
As I walk back up the stairs, I do feel “particularly cold” for the afternoon. I have to remind myself that it is not 1:00. It’s past 5:30 and the sun is about 15 minutes from setting. I question why I have multiple layers of clothing in my pack that is on my back. Wouldn’t it be better for me to be wearing them on my body? Isn’t that the whole point of bringing them?
I torture myself with a cold shower up top and miraculously manage to slide the lock box combination dials to the correct code and retrieve my keys and get in the car. I am not getting any warmer. My body shivers intensely all the way home. Still - no regrets on the swim overall, but I might have done a few things differently.
