It’s a beautiful Friday and likely the last prime swim day of the week. All week has been great - sunny and smooth calm surface - but I’ve been too busy to get into the water since Monday. Rain and a good cross shore wind is due for the weekend. I’m hoping there might be a chance tomorrow morning but we shall see. Anyways, today looks perfect.

I drive down Palisades Drive towards Capo Beach and southern Doheny and the water is a lovely blue and flat as a pancake. I can clearly see Catalina Island out on the horizon. I didn’t take note, but all week we have even had a clear view of the more distant San Clemente Island, which I enjoy from my walks through Pines Park.

It’s only been a few days but it feels like it has been forever since taking this drive through Dana Point’s Lantern District. I just love this little beach town. Complain all you want about the recent developments of new buildings along PCH and Del Prado, I still like it and find it to be relatively low key compared to other coastal communities further north (which are also nice).

I get to the parking lot at the Strand and after I get out of my car the most obvious thing here is the warmth of the sun. It’s forecasted to be cooler today than the last couple days but we are still heading for the upper 60’s - a good place. That’s all supposed to change this weekend.

As I head down the stairs I try to focus on my breath and the air around me and remain calm. I’m feeling a bit high strung from some side projects I have been working on and it is definitely time to get in the water and let it take me some place far far away.

The tide looks low and it’s getting lower. I’m thankful that there is still lots of sand all throughout the shallows where I enter the water. I was reading over my post from a year ago today and last year was riddled with rocks. I’m guessing that is because last month’s big swell was not nearly as large as the last couple years.

The water feels a little colder today and I’m trying to convince myself that this is all some kind of tactile hallucination.

I get my stuff in order up at the rocks and then start to get in the water. Boy it is super clear right here and there is basically no surf. It is utterly beautiful. It is also cold. After I lean into the water and start to swim, I’m a bit taken aback by the cold and it takes a good while to adapt.

I start to wonder if my inner furnace will kick in at all today but I finally start to feel “good” right around the middle stairs, which is probably 10 minutes into the swim.

The swim is beautiful especially below the surface. The water is crystal clear and I feel like I can reach out and touch the dancing kelp and rocks. As a matter of fact, I can reach out and touch it. The water is a rich blue and the vegetation glows in the rays of the sun.

Just before reaching the south end of the beach, it feels like the water gets icy cold as if an iceberg has floated into the immediate area or perhaps the snow pack runoff from the headlands is flowing into the water here. I look up and see no snow atop the headlands and no icebergs. I’m not surprised. However, I abbreviate my usual lingering here before turning north.

I’m relieved on the way back up as I feel my body exit that cold patch. Still, it’s cold in the water today and I have to wonder if I will be able to complete a full swim or if it will get to be too much.

It’s not long before I can feel the cold amplify beneath my skin. I pause to defog by goggles hoping that is the source of my lack of vision and not the cold. Stopping here briefly, I notice the cold but also the exquisite beauty around me. Everything I am looking at warms my heart.

I keep swimming. The cold ebbs and flows. I try to relax as best as I can and let myself feel these sensations all throughout my insides. Despite the intensity of the cold, my hands still feel like they are maintaining their dexterity. I don’t know why but I’m glad for it. I choose to just keep moving.

Soon those northern bathrooms are fairly close and not much longer after that they are parallel to my location. Here I am. I just need to make it back.

I’m fairly close to shore and the water is so very calm. I can easily exit the water at any time but I really want to get in my usual distance. I’m bumping up the positivity of my self-talk and tapping into my internal motivational speaker. I’m channeling Norman Vincent Peale.

As I gradually move in closer to shore, the view that I have here below the surface is stunning. I feel so lucky to be here. I’m the only one for as far as I can see. Does anyone else know what is happening down here? I can only hope that I can do it justice in this post and the pictures prove me correct.

I make it to shore and grab my pack. The trip to the upper showers is an arduous one. There is a lot of vigorous exhaling. I try not to think about the cold rinse I am about to partake of. However, I have noticed that the actual experience is never nearly as bad as I imagine on the way up the stairs. Another thing I have noticed is that if I rinse off in the colder water (that is warmer than the ocean I am sure), I do not shiver as much on the way home if I were to just towel off and put on layers. This proves to be true on this colder day as well.