I left the house a little after 6:00. The sky is clear and it’s 46 degrees outside. I’m happy I am going for a run before my swim because the thought of going into the water right now seems insane. I’ve been watching the temps over the last couple days and we lost a couple degrees in the water after Friday’s winds. The 50’s are now upon us. The buoys are pretty much in agreement at 58.

I take a 7 mile run through the harbor and it’s great. I can’t tell if it is the run or the rising sun but I feel much warmer now as I walk to the restroom to change into my trunks. I think I can do this. I know I can at least start walking down the stairs. I’m bringing my pack down with me today because who knows what condition I’ll be in when I get out of the colder water on this cold morning. I am curious just where I’m going to put my pack though. The tide will reach 6.8 in an hour and my usual spot might be overrun by water by the time I end the swim.

Once I can see the shore, I see the water is coming all the way up to the base of the ramp already so I stash my pack on top of the rocks right by the ramp. I usually don’t like taking off so close to the ramp. There are sometimes exposed rocks not too far from shore here. However, I just so happened to be here yesterday during low tide. It was super low and I could see probably 100 feet west of the eastern edge of the beach. It was like a barren dessert of sand. No rocks anywhere north of the ramp. Just a couple here and there at the edge of the water which would be well past the surf right now.

There are a few swimmers coming in and just ending their swim. They comment on the drop in temperature and one had a thermometer and measured 55 degrees. 55??!! I’m thinking that I wish he would not have told me that. Oh well, I’m committed now but can always get out if I feel like I need to. I already ran 7 miles and won’t feel totally cheated. Still I’ve done 55 before but usually after acclimatizing more to the cold. Part of me is not sure about that reading. 55? Could it be right?

There is some swell in the water. It has come down in size from the well overhead surf that was here yesterday. However I overheard a couple of surfers talking about conditions up at the parking lot and they were surprised how big it was. It’s hard to know how seriously to take all of this since they sounded like they might be beginners. Now that I’m getting in it looks fine.

As I walk in, it’s certainly cold but I don’t feel like I’m getting into a pool of razor blades like the one in my imagination. A set of waves comes and I let them pass. Then I start swimming and soon I’m past the foamy white water. My whole body feels a shock of cold. It’s manageable but I have a cold water headache that is very much pinpointed at the base of my skull just above the back of my neck. I know it will subside in a minute and it does.

I’m swimming south and wonder if I’ll swim north again before April. I don’t like swimming north in the cold because it is an out and back course so once I’m I’m half way through the swim, there really is no way to shorten it. However, south isn’t necessarily a great option today because of the high tide, there really is no great place to exit the water south of the ramp.

There is no doubt about it. It’s cold in here, but I’m feeling pretty good throughout most of the swim. My entire body feels electrically charged. The cold is a sensation that seems to demand my attention. However as I focus on it, the cold is just cold and not torture. It is such an odd sensation because whatever it is, it is not normal. My brain wants to equate not normal with bad or dangerous. Before I started this nutty pastime, I figured I’d probably die if I swam here in the winter without a wetsuit. Everyone else wears them so they must do so to survive. I’ve searched through some swim related forums and according to some of the advise given on those, I should be dead. However, there is a growing body of literature on cold water swimming. The scientists are not all in agreement on just how “good for you” it really is but one thing is certain: people do do it and some in much more extreme conditions than here and they thrive. Sure, maybe I’d die if I had a heart condition or if I just panicked and hyperventilated until I passed out and drowned.

With the high tide and the morning glare, I’m having difficulty finding the rock that is my turnaround point at the south end of the beach. It’s getting a bit rough and wavey here and I figure I have come far enough. I eventually find that rock and I’m practically there and am fine with not going any further. The water is rough and I’m frazzled enough. Waves usually break inshore of that rock but today they are breaking right over it.

I contemplate ending early as I head back north. However, I continue to feel OK and just keep moving. I don’t get in a lot of pictures over the swim today - only 19. Lately my typical count is about 60. On some of my Laguna swims, I have taken over 100. Today I just can’t bring myself to stop except when I am turning around. I’m swimming with my whole self today. Or at least I’m swimming with every part of myself that I can feel and I think I can safely say that’s the whole thing.

It really is a beautiful morning. However with the cold and my goggles fogging and the glare, I feel like I am shrouded in this mist that I can’t quite see through. I just steady my mind on the cold and try to remain calm. My mind concocts all of these horror scenarios where I suddenly keel over from the cold. Why am I the only one doing this here? It would be great if more would swim without a wetsuit. I’d love to talk with them and compare notes. I did see two swimmers yesterday in the water without wetsuits but they just got in for a few minutes, sloshed around, and then got out. Looked like they were enjoying themselves though.

I’m pleasantly amazed as I watch the northern lifeguard tower get closer and closer. Am I going to make it all the way? I try not to ask myself too many questions and just keep swimming. I use my breath as an anchor to provide me with buoyancy in this cold. As I look to the horizon, the water is so so blue and the sky is blue and there is a white haze that sits on the horizon and seems to penetrate my brain.

That lifeguard tower is looking super close and I stop to gauge my distance. I’m almost there to the bathrooms and I figure I am so close that I might as well turn around now. I’m a little nervous of the rising tide. I’d hate to see my pack claimed by the ocean or find that I need to body surf a wave onto the cement ramp. There is also the fact that I am finding it difficult to close my fingers against one another. My hands are like claws now. This is common, but it’s been months since I have experienced this. I will get more used to this over the next several swims.

I make it back pretty quickly. There are some surfers right here and I try to stay out of their way. The water is coming up to the rocks but my backpack remains dry. I’m pretty darn cold but just can’t bring myself to actually open my backpack and dry off and put on a jacket. I just want to get to my car, shower and get dressed and then have my coffee. Ahhhh…coffee. Yes that is what I want.

The further up the stairs I get, the more it feels like I’m just walking on stumps due to the lack of sensation in my feet. I’d honestly run but have you ever tried running on stumps? Of course you haven’t. I consider poring my coffee over my feet. No. Now that’s going too far.

Running on Stumps

A Shuffled Deck

Dark Blanket