Tiny Little Dot

I leave a little after 9:15 this morning and as usual these past couple weeks it is completely overcast. It’s a deeper overcast than yesterday. Definitely will not be seeing any sun today. I was looking at the webcam earlier in the morning and the beach looked so calm and inviting but right now I’m struggling to conjure up motivation. Well I’m in the car and on the way so I’ve got motivation enough. No cyber trucks today.

As I drive by Doheny, the water looks a tad greyish/brownish. Yesterday the whitewater washing in to shore was brown in spots which indicates red tide. The swim was by no means clear but neither did it seem dingy. However I was at the harbor last night which was undoubtedly a coffee brown. The harbor water never looks that pleasant to me but this was definitely red tide. So I’m wondering what the water will be like today.

It feels a bit chilly walking down the stairs. I can hear birdsong in the distance which I love and it warms my heart but doesn’t do much for warming the skin. Surf is definitely down another notch today but it is not flat. I see the same brown residue in the incoming white water that I saw yesterday. Water maybe feels a touch cooler than yesterday.

I head on out, get past the surf, and start swimming. No ice cream headache today. The water does feel cold. I can feel the cold penetrating my face but then in a couple minutes I’m fine.

The water looks so dark. I notice the red tide more today but it’s still not as bad as it could be. I don’t have the sense that I am swimming through muck even if maybe I am. I try not to think about this. Fortunately I have a pretty high “gross out” tolerance so a little muck here and there really doesn’t bother me. That said, I won’t be swimming through the harbor any time soon.

This reminds me of an article I read a while back about a triathlete who’s triathlon event was cancelled. I think this was during COVID. He was totally trained and really wanted to do the distance and so he made his own private course. For the swim, he measured out a route inside the harbor breakwater. I couldn’t help but think how I would so much rather do it almost anywhere else.

This whole swim feels dark and dreary. The water temperature feels like it is right on the edge of cold. If I tilt my mind at just the right angle, the water feels fine, but it’s a very sensitive balance and if I lose my alignment, things get frigid. I catch myself thinking ahead to the end of the swim and then try to correct this by trying to imagine that the swim no end. With no end, all I can do is swim and swim and swim and rest in my infinite existence as a swimmer in this ocean. One might think this another form of self-torture but it actually helps.

I get to the south end and take in the grey view. It’s dark but I like it. This is exhilarating and it is thrilling to be right here. As I now swim north, I can feel a significant change in the current. I mean the current itself is the same but now I am swimming along with it. Every now and then I can feel wakes flow over me. I stare to the west and set my sights on the dark clouds in the difference. My goggles are a bit fogged and the water right around me looks all churned up. The water looks effervescent and almost milky. I briefly stop to stretch out my right leg and a group of pelicans flys right by. I grab my camera as fast as I can and take a shot. I have no idea if I got anything.

When I reach my northern turn around point, I can hardly believe I’m already here. Especially the second half felt like it all happened so quickly. I stop and wipe out my goggles. I hesitate to take them off because they are not leaking and I’m afraid if I fuss with them they might start but boy it sure is nice to see clearly.

Time to head south and then continue on home. The current is strong but the water is not rough. So it doesn’t really feel like I am fighting to move forward and yet it seems like I am not moving forward. I’m starting to wonder if this is the day that the current is finally stronger than I am. It’s been several minutes now and I still have not passed those bathrooms. I just keep swimming and swimming because what else am I going to do? Eventually I finally do make it to the row of houses on the bluff. I wonder how much longer the rest will take.

These houses always make the time pass a little faster because they are like tiny milestones of progress. About halfway down this block I stop just to catch my breath and I look offshore toward a couple boats hanging out further out. Then I think I see it. A sphericle splotch or red or orange. I squint my eyes for a more precise visual and sure enough there it is - the first jr. lifeguard buoy of the season. This is so exciting. Maybe I just don’t get out enough. It’s too far away to quickly swim to and I can’t tell if it has a name written on it like they usually do but it gives me joy just to see it. There is nothing at all about this morning that hints of summer except for this one tiny little dot in the distance.