Everything
Oh man, little did I know that the day after I post my rant about how I nearly fall apart after a day without exercise, I would have two consecutive days without exercise. I realize the majority of people probably think I must have a few screws loose. Well, they are right, but I just don’t know how non-exercisers cope. I feel like my ability to see color has been stricken from existence. Life feels so joyless and drab. My ex-wife got super sick and I took over care of our five year old son who needs 24/7 supervision. We did have some good bonding time and I know he enjoyed sleeping over at my apartment, but it sure was good to take a run after my ex picked him up yesterday afternoon.
It’s Saturday today and lately I have not been swimming on Saturdays because I pick up my son at 8:00 and so I usually run instead. Today I am picking him up a little later and am able to fit in a swim. I am so happy to do this. It has been such a draining week. On top of caring for my son, work has been in what I would call “emergency mode.” Somehow I have had to keep a five year old entertained while putting out fires and handling customer outages. It’s honestly been one of the busiest work weeks in months if not years. So yes please, I would like some ocean time.
Conditions appear to be nearly ideal. Skies are clear. It is 60 degrees out at 7:00 in the morning and forecasted to reach 74 today. Surf was up yesterday but calmer today. My only concern really is the 6.7 high tide at 7:30. Will there be a beach? Will the surf be down enough that we won’t have head high waves breaking onto the rocks? I’m guessing things will be fine. My mind loves to create drama and it’s doing a pretty good job right now. I can see sand on the web cams - good enough. I’m out the door at about 7:40.
Everything looks beautiful on the way to the beach. I grab my favorite parking space and head down the stairs very curious of what I will find when I get to the shore. Well, what I find is quite lovely. There is a beach, a very small one, but a beach for sure. It looks like we have just a little more sand here than my last swim. Jupiter rock is sunken in a little deeper and I can only see its top 18 inches. Boy, exactly two years ago to the day, this beach was all cobble and no sand. That happens about every other year give or take. It’s usually the result of a large swell. We have had some moderate swells come in but nothing particularly big this year. That’s fine by me. I like the sand.
January 31, 2024
The surf is pretty darn small here too. This is probably due to the high tide. The point up at Salt Creek looks much better in the wave rideability department. There is just too much water right here to produce solid surf. There are some waves breaking right on the shore. I walk into the water and take in the stunning views from all directions. The sun has risen over the headlands but remains low in relation to those cliffs. The shore is covered in shadow but that will change very soon.
I swim south towards the headlands. The water is cool but I want to say it is maybe a touch warmer than my last swim on Tuesday. We have had great weather and little wind the last couple days. The local buoy temps were actually up a degree when I checked this morning from 61 to 62. Either of those temps is great for this time of year. Yesterday I ran by the Salt Creek lifeguard tower and it said 59. I just don’t know about that. Yeah, it’s cold but it is a benign cold. I’m liking this. That all said, if someone were to ask me, “mind if I bump it up to 70?” Of course I would say “Hell yes!” Maybe throw in an extra exclamation mark for good measure.
The swim is absolutely lovely and is feeding me with just the nutrients that I need right now. As I near the south end of the beach, I enter into the shadow of the headlands. I can even see the edge of this shadow below the surface of the water. The water is all dark on one side and then suddenly brighter as if there is a reef submerged here but I know it’s sandy bottom. As I wade here with my head above water, I have the sun in my face one moment and then I am tucked into shadow the next as the surface rises and falls with the swell. Everything I see here is good. Everything.
I turn around and head north. The underwater visibility is practically nil today. It’s very cloudy and I can only see the kelp that is immediately in front of me as I swim right into the thick of it. I pause half way up the beach and take in my surroundings. I look due west and there is Catalina and a fishing boat and then suddenly I am gifted with a flock of Cormorants flapping their wings as they fly just above the surface.
I continue north towards that Salt Creek lifeguard tower 0. I hear the piano music I was playing just before I left my apartment. I’m working on another piece. A D major to C major and then eventually this magical G minor that seems to transport me to some place that I know I have been before but can’t remember. There is this A# and F combination that accompanies the G minor that injects a texture that I can’t describe. I like it but can’t describe it. It’s a feeling so crisp and visceral but I cannot for the life of me map it to any common emotion in my vocabulary. It’s not joy or sadness or hope or loneliness or wonder but there seem to be hues of each present.
As I am finishing up the swim, I see a pair of outrigger canoes pass by me about 50 feet offshore. They don’t see me but I yell hello. My hello may have been on the faint side and they yell back to ask if I am ok. Ok?! Oh I am more than ok! Right now everything is great and I try to respond in such a way that conveys this sentiment. I also ask them if they are ok just to be courteous. I get a thumbs up. Good. Everyone is ok.
