I leave the house at 10:15. It’s a beautiful day but a bit brisk. It’s 57 now and not supposed to breach 60 at all today. I’m looking forward to the warmer weather predicted for the middle of the week. As I drive by Doheny, I can see a little bit of chop on the water, but as I drive into the Strand parking lot, the surface looks a little smoother.

I head down the stairs and am deliberately not thinking about the water temperature which actually makes me think of the water temperature. After yesterday’s winds, it does look like we have lost a couple degrees since my last swim but it’s not quite the free fall we had a couple weeks ago.

When I get to the shore, it feels like the beach is empty - especially compared to this week. Well it’s about 7 degrees cooler and the tide is not super high but it’s not low either. There is definitely more surf on tap than I have seen in a while. There is a northwest swell that peeked last night and it looked like it was still overhead on the web cams earlier in the morning. The waves just look like they come in one after another with no lull between sets.

I head into the water - definitely on the cooler side today. I look to the south side of the beach and the surf looks heavy out past the rocks where I usually swim to and turn around. I make a note to be extra aware when I get out that way. As I walk ahead the waves keep coming and I am eventually in chest deep. Soon I start to swim and just dive underneath the oncoming white water. There must be a lull now because it feels like the waves magically part and I have a clear shot past the surf. Oof it is cold. I’m in that in between place where my body feels zapped of energy. Even though it seems I am past the surf, the surface moves here like waves heading to shore. It feels like they should be breaking just behind me. So I keep swimming west out to sea because it just doesn’t seem like I am clear quite yet. I keep going and eventually I figure that this has got to be well beyond any breaking surf. It just seems like these “wakes” should be breaking right as I swim over them but I watch them travel quite a ways until they do.

The whole swim is like this. I feel like I am continually rising and falling over sizable peaks with that sensation a surfer has when they paddle over the feathering crest just in the nick of time. It’s hard to gauge where I should be. It’s starting to feel like I am super far out, maybe too far out? I don’t know. The best word I can think of is it feels busy out here - like there is just a lot going on and a lot that I feel like I need to pay attention to. There are the waves and the cold and I’m also meeting my sister and fiancé on the beach after the swim and I’m thinking of not being too late and not being so cold that I can’t communicate.

I think this is my coldest swim of the season. There was one patch that actually felt not so bad a few minutes back but now it’s just ice. As I get close to the south end, the passing peaks start to feel more pronounced and indeed I do see them breaking not far from me. I keep swimming but decide to turn around a little sooner today. I see large splashing waves against the cliffs and breaking waves not too far from where I am at now. So I do my regular picture taking routine here and then start to swim back north.

Now that I am looking westward, it feels even wavier than before because I can see the peaks as they approach. By now I realize that they are not going to break here. Or are they? It’s so cold. Soon I decide that I’m just going to swim to shore once I get in line with my spot and I’ll skip the northern bathrooms. There is just too much going on here and I feel done especially considering that I am going to need to move my mouth and make human sounds shortly after drying off.

I see my landmark house. I’m surprised and a bit delighted. So I head for shore, but I still have a good ways to go because I am way far out. I swim and swim and swim. I am making headway right? Well I’m moving somewhere because now I am a few houses further north and need to adjust course southward. I do make it to the breaking waves soon. It is not nearly as scary as I had made things out to be especially when I realize I can easily stand on the floor with my head above water.

I grab my pack and dry off and put on a few layers. I’m cold and am trying to keep it together as I see my sister approach. I begin to talk about the dynamics of the month of April. Under normal circumstances I think I could wax poetic on this subject but I feel like I’m just barely making sense and that might be putting it generously. We walk to the south end of the beach and I look out into the surf and for the life of me I do not see anything close to the size of what I thought I saw when I was out there. Did I make it all up in my head? That’s certainly very possible. Of course I was super far out, but I don’t see anything of significance way out there.

Soon I feel like I can take my sweatshirt hood off of my head and I think the fog is beginning to clear from my brain. It’s an utterly beautiful day. After I part ways with my sister, I wonder should I head back out for a short makeup swim? Oh come on now. I try to remind myself of something I remember drilling into my head last year: if I feel overwhelmed and have the urge to swim back in, then that is exactly what I should do. I feel like I let myself down or something by finishing early but hey I don’t see anyone else out there swimming sans wetsuit. Not that there is anything at all wrong with that but I just use that fact to let myself know that I’m not a total wuss.

Busy

Who Cares About April?

Muscle Memory