I left at 9:15 and skies are partly cloudy. Lots of big puffy clouds left over from yesterday’s low pressure system that gave us just a teeny bit of rain. It’s only about 53 degrees outside. I teeter on whether or not to swim. I’m recovering from being “almost sick” the last couple days, I got almost no sleep last night and I’m feeling emotionally out of sorts. I guess the latter item means I should get my but in the water.

Driving by Doheny the water looks very smooth and appears alive as the sun shines through the cloud cover and on to the surface. From the Strand parking lot, it still looks smooth but super bouncy from the strong south winds last night. As I turn into my parking space, the gentleman parked next to me yells to get my attention. I did not notice that he has a camp stove burning in the gutter at the front end of the space I am about to drive into. I back up and park elsewhere.

I get out of the car. I’m feeling kind of icky but I just know things will change once I’m in the water. I get myself down the stairs and it looks like the tide is just in between the high and low - both of which are on the extreme end today. There is some surf but it doesn’t look as big as what was on the morning surf report.

The water feels about the same temperature on my feet as it did Tuesday. According to the week’s water temperature forecast, Tuesday’s Santa Ana winds were supposed to bring a drop in temps. The winds did not end up being as strong as forecasted and the buoy temps have hardly moved (a couple are down a degree).

I think I spot a dolphin but it is a surfer who looks to be paddling parallel to the shore out past the surf from Salt Creek towards somewhere south of where I am now. It really is a beautiful morning and the clouds add a nice bit of drama to the sky.

I set my stuff down and grudgingly remove my sweatshirt and T-shirt. I don’t feel as cold as I thought I would and I walk out toward the water. I get past some small breaking waves and then start to swim south.

The water is certainly cold and it is hard to say if it is any colder than my last swim a few days ago but it’s certainly not warmer. I don’t suffer any extreme cold water shock today and feel pretty good. Then my body does what the body does below 60 degrees and I start to feel an inner warmth. It’s such a fascinating phenomenon and I don’t think I’ll ever tire of trying to describe it which I seem to do often in these posts. I can feel how cold the water is on the surface of my skin but a warmth radiates from my core and I like it. If I could, I’d put a ring on it.

Not a lot of surfers, or anyone really, out today. I can feel myself being pushed and pulled by the bounce in the ocean. The water has this very pleasant turquoise hue to it. As I reach my right arm forward and look to the ocean floor below, I take solace in what I see. That turquoise energy moves through my body, heart and mind. I’ve made some choices this week that I’m unsure about. One moment it feels like I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to and the next moment the same choice feels like disaster. Somehow in this instant, the color of the water puts the choices out of mind and all is well.

Soon I find myself at the south end of the beach and the water is a little more tumultuous here. I find my rock and I pause as the water bobs me like a cork up and down among lots of wakes from seemingly random directions.

I turn around and head north. I make very few stops today. The water seems to keep getting colder. I know I have the stamina to finish the swim but not to linger about taking in the views. As I sense the cold deepening, I try to propel my attention in it’s direction. I want to greet the cold right at the front door of my perception and embrace it. It’s energy blasts through my skin and I breath into it with all the breath that I have.

I kind of struggle to find the cliff below the Ritz as I lift my head to check my direction. The ocean is by no means flat and obstructs my forward view. I figure that’s ok, perhaps I’ll see the cliff next time or the time after that and I usually do.

I’m pretty far from shore today and when I reach the bathrooms at my northern turnaround point they look far away. I turn around for the last time and try to angle myself toward the shore to narrow the distance between me and it. As I get close to the end, I can feel waves rolling under me that seem like they are on the verge of breaking. They look kind of big - certainly larger than what I saw coming out. Then I see another wave coming my way and I decide I really need to swim a little further out.

Soon I’m done. My hand brushes the sand beneath me and that’s my cue to stand up. I grab my pack and head toward the shower. A woman is walking her dog up top and enthusiastically asks me “how was it?” I respond “it was great” and try to match her enthusiasm and in fact I think I exceeded it.