Sucking Air From the Sky

I leave a little after 11:15 this morning and the skies are mostly sunny. Some haze seems to come and go but it is a pretty nice day. It’s about 60 degrees out. When I get to the parking lot, the water looks pretty smooth - certainly smoother than it has in a few day for the late morning.

I head down the stairs keeping my shirt and overshirt. It’s a bit on the cool side here. I’m thinking about getting into the water and I’m ignoring how I anticipate my body will react. All logic tells me that a world of misery lies just below the surface of that water but I know that is an illusion that can only be shattered by actually penetrating said surface.

The tide reached a 4.7 high not too long ago. The high tide mark is set to decrease each day this week, which is nice given the sand level. The upper 4’s is pretty much the upper limit for being able to walk on the shore without getting wet above the waist and the high tide just so happens to intersect with my swim window all week.

The water looks calm although there is surf. There is a longer lull between sets today. The waves I see breaking look very nice. They are clean and peel nicely from one end to the other instead of a walled break that crashes all at once.

I walk out into the water and soon start swimming. It’s nice to get this over with. The cold water - it’s about 58 - penetrates me. My body accepts it and then relaxes. It’s hard to describe plunging into cold water. Even now as I look at the water I can’t imagine any reaction other than tensing up all over in an effort to resist the cold and becoming overcome with an urge to leave the water at all costs. I honestly wonder, if I do this long enough, can I be able to lose the visceral dread of getting into the cold water. I hope so. It’s all a big lie that I have to ignore, and the ignoring is not without effort.

I swim through the oncoming waves that I crest before they break. I keep going until it feels like I’m well past the more steeply angled section and then veer south. This is nice. In the beginning things are a bit frigid, but I pass through a few section that feel almost warm. I try to just settle my mind on the water and not dwell on getting this over with. It doesn’t seem like it takes long at all to get to the southern end of the beach.

I turn around and head north. The water seems so green today. Just like it has since the weekend, and likely much longer, the visibility is extremely limited. The water quality website is reporting that bacteria levels are safe and acceptable so that’s good to know. There are only two spots that are reporting levels that exceed safe limits: Poche (no surprise there) and right in front of the river mouth at Doheny (also not a shocker).

The wakes of water rise and and seem to meet my face just as it comes up for air. Several times it feels like my breaths capture about half the air I was hoping for along with a courtesy mouthful of water. This will happen for several breaths in a row and then the rhythm of the wakes and the turning of my head fall back into sync where I rise at the troughs between the wakes. This lasts for another several breaths and then the cycle starts over again. Things can get extra interesting when boats are nearby. The wakes roll over my head and I try to hyper extend my neck so that I suck the air straight from the sky. Sometimes this works. Sometimes not. The water takes on a personality all of its own. It is trying to overcome me. The cold intensifies. Then things settle. I try to stay with the cold right where it is. I’m certainly not chasing it but not running from it either.

This all feels at once so spiritual and yet not. I try to imagine God or Jesus but those images feel almost irrelevant or out of place. Everything that I need is right here. Everything that is here right now is all consuming and part of a web that holds and supports me. I feel as though whatever force there is that lies beneath the images of God and Jesus also lies beneath the surface, not to mention above as well, this water. Immersed in this ocean is enough. Whatever images I might invoke of a spiritual realm just seem to serve as a distraction to what is right in front of me. I’m not rejecting God or Jesus but embracing them in the form they are choosing to reveal themselves at this place and time.

I eventually make it to the north end of the beach. I’m surprised how long I go and still feel pretty great in the cold. My steadiness comes and goes but mostly comes. Last night’s weekly water temperature forecast is predicting even warmer water for Orange County with the coming storms that should push the southern offshore water our way. The report mentioned a “degree or two above 60.” Really? In February? I want to believe.