Moral of this Story: Keep the body Alive

Started off the day running to the gym and doing 50 minutes on the elliptical machine. Then I left for the beach at 8:45.

Skies were pretty clear at my house, but there was a thin layer of wispy clouds dominating the sky at the beach. It still felt as though skies were clear but it was like someone had turned down the dimmer switch.

Thanks to the elliptical workout, I am feeling fairly warm as I make my way down to the beach, but the water still looks cold. Whatever cold looks like. I guess based on what I am seeing, cold is beautiful because the water is super smooth and a lovely blue.

More people on the beach today than yesterday but it is definitely not a crowd. There is a guy just south of where I get in the water, fishing in the tiny low tide surf.

As I make my way out into the water he gives me a look as though I am crazy. I may likely just be projecting my own self image onto his mind because I feel like this is crazy. The water feels down right cold. Like yesterday, the surf is practically non existent and so I just have to let my body fall into this water and start swimming.

The scenery here is incredible - both inside and outside of the water. The water is super clear and I can see fields of kelp dancing in the current on the ocean floor. The water surface is still and smooth.

I’m swimming south and the sandy bottom turns into scattered boulders and then the boulders become not so scattered and become islands of kelpy rocks in a sea of white sand.

After a few minutes, my body adjusts and I feel the odd warm glow that sits in this icy encasement. I think to myself, if I could feel just like this over the whole swim, this would be a piece of cake. I know that eventually things will break down - like after about 30 minutes.

When I get to the southern end (20 minutes), the calm water and low tide exposes the large rock islands that sit way beyond the shore. It feels so still an quiet out here. I watch as a bird swoops down and hovers over the surface.

I head back up north. Slowly but surely the intensity of the cold gets stronger. I just try to swim into it because where else am I going to swim into? I watch my mind animate the cold into something larger than what it is.

I keep thinking of Barbara Hernandez the Chilean ice swimmer. Be Barbara…be Barbara. I can find ease in this cold. I know it is here. I’m focusing on the muscles around my neck and jaw and trying to keep them relaxed. Somehow their tension levels become a sort of inner thermostat.

I stop at a couple of points along the way to take pictures of the kelp. Sometimes if you catch the kelp at just the right angle in just the right light, it can look stunning - at least I think so. The thing about pictures of seaweed, is that they are always unique. I feel like I may possess more photos of the surrounding cliffs than anyone else on earth. Honestly, even those can look very different from day to day given different lighting, but the seaweed is always truly original.

When I make these stops, I quickly feel warmer. This is normal. As the water sits still against a live body, it will warm. So the moral of this story is to keep your body alive.

Inevitably, the swim must resume and the electrical flow of cold flushes through my system throwing me off balance at first and then settling into a sort of equilibrium.

It’s time to turn around again for the final 10 minute swim back to my starting point. This last10 minutes while coldest, is easier to bear because I have the psychological advantage of knowing my sweater is near and as I am swimming south, I can watch the houses slide down the coast until I get to the one I know is my landmark for heading east.

The tide is quite low so I can stand even tough I am probably 50 feet from shore. As I stand, I feel oddly warm, and I feel great.

There is a guy that meets me as I exit the water and gives me a fist bump. He asks me how it was and I tell him it was great and super clear. I do love having these interactions with strangers on the beach.