Not a Truck

I'm leaving a little before 8:00 to get my swim in before this new swell picks up too much. It's due to be on the rise all day. It's not supposed to get too big but it seems lately surfline has been under reporting the numbers so it can be hard to tell what exactly to expect.

Of course I can't complain. It's a totally different world we live in now. When I was a kid there was a number you called for a recorded message of the surf report hosted by the San Clemente life guards. I remember having to dial and dial and dial just to get past a busy signal. The report just gave you current conditions and represented all southern Orange County beaches.

Now we have surfline with numbers tailored for every beach and forecasting out a couple weeks. Most Dana Point and San Clemente beaches have webcams so you can actually see the surf. Oh and if you're just curious what Nazare Portugal or Teahupoo Tahiti looks like, well they have cams too.

It's overcast here, of course, but nice. I mean I'm going to the beach afterall. It's going to be nice.

I see two cyber trucks on the way. I don't understand these vehicles. They look like prototypes or some kind of concept vehicle but not something fit for the market. Well folks are buying them so maybe I'm wrong. Well I'll tell you what they don't look like, a truck.

I get to the parking lot and there's some texture on the water but not too much. Not a whole lot going on here right now. When I get to the ramp just above the sand, it looks like the construction on the concrete has not progressed much. There is now a chain link fence around the missing concrete and the narrow plank remains for pedestrians.

I'm just walking into the water and the surf is larger than yesterday but still not much. Then a set comes in leading with a wave that is bigger than I have seen in a couple months. It's just an unsurfable wall. It's not huge per se but its white water knocks me down. Well at least that takes care of the getting wet part.

I wait out the set and then hurry out and start swimming. I see another large one coming and it's going to break right in front of me. I dive all the way to the floor and seem to avoid the heavy turbulence. I surface and it looks like I am home free.

So now the main thread of thought over the entire swim becomes the impending peril of the swim back to shore. “Look,” I tell myself, “it's not that big and it's breaking fairly close to shore. It's totally fine.” I know this to be true and I am confident deep down that I will live to see my children, but I am a bit shaken.

Also it's a little colder in the water today. Not terrible and also totally fine. I try to explore the feel of the water from different perspectives. I just let myself relax. I soften the muscles in my face and neck and watch the stress recede as I do. I reach out to truly feel the temperature of the water and let it wash over me and I inquire of my skin how it really feels. Not too bad.

I hear a voice in my head telling me to yield to the water. Yield to the surf. Interesting - it sounds like Obie One Kanobe telling me to use the force. Ben?

Well one thing on my side today is my goggles. It was too early to stop by big five to get new ones but for some reason they are not leaking today. Go figure.

Ok. Maybe “great” isn't the word I would use to describe today's swim if someone asked me out in the water. But from right here right now, it was definitely great. I was out in the ocean with nothing between me and the elements. I saw birds and big clouds and could hear the crashing of the waves inshore. The landscape was nothing less than alive and I was there to experience it in ultra three-D.

By the time I am wrapping it up, there is just a hint of sunlight peeking through the clouds. My swim to shore is pretty much uneventful and when I land on the beach, the crowd has filled in quite a bit. Lots of walkers on the beach.

By the time I’m up the stairs I'm already of the mind that everything about that swim was great. Hindsight is more than 20/20.