Free Feet

I wasn’t sure I had it in me for a swim today. I was feeling a little out of sorts mentally and the thought of all that stimulation felt overwhelming. The wet, the cold, the surf - was I up for that? However, after walking my dog and taking a good look at the water, I just could not come up with any compelling reason not to go. I knew I’d feel great afterwards and I could go for a little bit of great right now.

I make a couple changes to the routine based on yesterday’s experience. I’m not wearing a shirt. It’s pretty pleasant out and I’d prefer not to have it stolen. Also, I’m not bringing shoes. The entire run to the beach is on fairly clean, well graded, residential roads. I don’t need shoes and my feet would love to be free. I love this minimalist approach, but I’m keeping the trunks.

As I run to the beach, I am very happy with the temperature out here. It is probably in the 60s and there is a light breeze. I feel very comfortable. It’s even cloudier today with less blue sky to be found but there are a couple patches I can see here and there. As I pass tiny Palisades Gazebo Park, a flock of Pelicans flies overhead. I round the bend to the down hill straight away to Coast Highway and I can see the San Clemente Pier and Cottons Point in the distance. I love this town.

I reach the beach and there are a couple surfers out. This is not a popular surf spot and I have never really seen a crowd. The surf tends to be on the mushy and junky side. It’s odd to watch because often the waves approach steep from far out and sometimes they actually break way out. However closer to shore they often don’t break when you think they look like they are about to and by the time they do they have lost their size and power.

One surfer rides what looks like is going to be his last wave for the day. He rides it all the way until it is literally breaking on the shore and I think he is going to eat it on the gravel but he bails just as it crumbles past the inner trough.

The water doesn’t feel too cold on my feet. Surfline says it is 59 here (58 at Strands). I get in the water being extra mindful of the weird and volatile high tide shore break. When it looks like it is clear. I run into the water, reach the trough in just a few steps and am now head deep so I start swimming. Boy, it really doesn’t feel that cold. It is down right pleasant. I really hope this lasts. It is the first day of March and both March and April can go either way. March can be similar to February and then suddenly get over 60 in the last week and April can get into the mid 60s. OR the water can dip to it’s coldest temps of the season. I’m rooting for the former.

It’s a good swim. I swim to the same spot I have been swimming to on the last several swims and unintentionally go even further today. I don’t know how it happened but before I knew it there are the Doheny campgrounds.

I’m not as stressed as I was yesterday. I think because I had recalibrated expectations. I start out heading fairly far from shore and then correct my trajectory. I try to just relax into the swim. I am constantly finding myself reaching for forward progress and focusing on the end of the swim. I catch myself and lead myself back to the present. This is where I am and once I make peace with that I physically feel more peaceful. The cold (which is gaining some traction) loses its bite and the current and slosh settle into my own motion.

A sort of magical thing happens at the northern end of the swim. The sun seems to come out. I mean there are still mostly clouds but I find myself beneath a blue expanse and there are about 30 gulls flying all about directly over me. I honestly wonder if they are intentionally checking me out. They fly low. They are squawking and chirping. It’s pretty cool. They don’t seem to have any intent to fly away and resume their normal daily routine - whatever that is. Eventually I just turn around and start swimming back south and they seem to follow. Before long they are gone.

As I swim south, things seem to go quickly. Based on the timestamps of my pictures, the return journey is slightly faster than the swim north but it felt faster. I think the time goes faster when I can see the shore. I get fairly close to the beach and I can hear the sound of the waves over the gravel and I can feel myself rising and falling over their steep faces that never quite break. Of course I’m thinking, “is this the one that actually will?” It does happen. I’ve seen it.

After a good long while I reach the Capo parking lot and I’m on the home stretch. The tide is still pretty high and I watch the waves break onto the boulders and splash up onto the road. I am relieved when I get to the part about a couple hundred feet rom the houses where the sand gains prominence. I’m pretty far from harm’s way where I am right now but it is nice to know there is soft sand on the other side of this water.

And finally it is time to head to shore. I try to take to heart what I learned yesterday and keep a good eye out once I am about 10 feet from the sand. And now here I am 10 feet from the sand and I can barely touch the bottom. Now I’m 5 feet away and I am still head deep. A wave comes that does not look like it is going to turn me into a gravel sandwich and I use it to push me up over the soft gravely trough.

I run home and I must say that I like the shoe less methodology. It felt good to have bare feet in the water and I’m not having any issue with debris on the road.