Oh man where do I even start with this swim? Can I start? It’s hard to find words for such a raw experience. I feel like so much transpired in my head - like I traveled to places only to forget what I saw. All that is left is an impression of the experience that sits in a pool of feelings that only translate to broken thoughts and phrases so unintelligible but demanding of my attention.

I imagine walking on the bluff above the beach along the parking lot and spotting some guy swimming along the coast. The swimmer is just a spec on this cloudy late winter day in a textured, ripply ocean. Unbeknownst to any onlooker, there is an electrical storm of thoughts and feelings responding to his environment transpiring in his mind.

The fact is nothing really happened. I didn’t see any dolphins or other notable marine life. Though I should mention there was a flock of Pelicans as I was starting the swim that was cool. The waves were of average size - 3-4 feet. No boats or other sea craft. No injuries or cramping. The water surface got a bit rough in the second half but not necessarily worthy of mention.

All I can say is that the water was down right cold. I’m not sure if it was any colder than yesterday. It might have been? It was damn cold yesterday too. The funny thing is it’s only like a degree (no more than two) colder than last week. Sure last week was cold. However, hop in the hot tub and adjust the temperature from 92 to 93 and you might not even notice the change. Once you get in the 50’s (maybe a little before), it seems to me that every degree opens up a new world that tilts one’s experience resulting in a whole new way of perceiving the water.

As I look back on today’s swim, especially the last 20 minutes, my best guess is that my neurotransmitter emissions were off the charts.

I’m just gonna skip forward to that part of the swim today. Nothing really happened in the first 45 minutes of the swim that was much different from yesterday or most other days over the last couple weeks.

I’m on the edge as to whether or not to end early today. On the one hand it is super cold. How do I describe this sensation? To say that I was really cold does not at all accurately describe the situation. I’ve had experiences of being cold and miserable like most everyone else and that is not what I was feeling. It’s like a purely objective measurement - an observation of, “yes this water is super cold.” Subjectively, I have chosen to participate with this cold. My experience is not pitted against the onslaught of cold, rather it is interwoven with the cold. There is an intensity at play that I just can’t put my finger on. There is a novelty to the intensity that scares me. I can’t compare it to previous experience. There is no one I can discuss this with who has had a similar experience.

I decide to keep going. I try to release my fear and just yield to what is happening all around me. The bathrooms (my usual turnaround spot) look just within reach and it seems as if I do reach them fairly quickly. I take a few pics and head back.

I’m swimming against the current now. I’m ready to get back and so I bump up my speed. I honestly think the intensity of my effort was masked by the intensity of the water. So in just a few minutes I feel absolutely spent. My thoughts take off on this avalanche of worry. What have I done? I feel like I am in this place similar to an LSD trip where subtle phenomena from your surroundings can trigger either euphoria or terror. A more sensible voice tells me it’s ok. Just relax and ratchet the effort of my swimming way way down. I do this and I also head inland just in case I feel the need to exit ASAP. At first I don’t feel an improvement but sure enough after a few minutes, I feel much better and I am confident everything will be fine.

I need to correct my trajectory a bit because I am now just east of the surfline and manage to dive under a larger wave just as it is breaking. The waves are not huge or scary but I don’t really want to be contending with breaking waves on the remainder of my final southbound stretch.

I’m finally where I need to be and start to head to shore. This proceeds pretty much exactly as it did yesterday and I simply beach myself on the shore to avoid tripping over the shallow rocks.

Everything from this point to reaching my home is similar to yesterday but the difference is that someone turned up the volume of my reality receptors. I don’t really know how to describe this. Even as it was happening I was at a loss for how I would convey this experience in today’s post. Right now I keep thinking of ways to begin a sentence but don’t know how to end them. On the one hand I feel overwhelmed - not by what is happening but by how I am reacting to what is happening. And what is happening? Not a lot really. I’m putting on a shirt. I’m walking up stairs. I’m getting in the car. I’m driving. There are moments when I catch on to this and manage to bring myself to some sort of equilibrium and things feel normal. I’m just putting on a shirt. I’m just walking up stairs. I’m just driving. This takes effort and the equilibrium is soon lost. It’s not necessarily bad or good - this intensity.

The hot shower pulls me back to normal, and I feel like every muscle in my body is fatigued. Oh and Surfline just updated the water temp increasing it to 56. Whatever.