Is This Wonderful?

All right. I’ve now swam for two consecutive days in a row. I like how this is progressing. Conditions actually look pretty good all week this week. No rain in the forecast and the surf size is within acceptable limits. It’s also supposed to stay in the mid to high 60’s and even get to 72 on Friday. This all sounds good. Hopefully work won’t blow up.

Today looks pretty much just as delightful as yesterday did. Even though my weather app says it’s mostly cloudy, it’s really not. There are these whispy things covering most of the sky but everything looks blue to me. It’s beautiful and it is 62 degrees out as I leave my home at 9:30.

I meet my new neighbor who just moved in below me as I go to my car. That unit has been vacant since just before the holidays. A recently widowed woman has moved in and seems nice. Hopefully she won’t notice the explosive footsteps from my son’s “normal” style of walking. Then there is one of my son’s favorite activities: jumping on the bed until he gains enough altitude to make a proper landing onto the floor. I have told him several times not to do that but I sense that the message has not quite been fully processed. In fact, I think the message is immediately rejected as “unrecognizable input.” I’ll keep trying. Bribes might be necessary.

I get to the parking lot and all looks and feels well. I head down the stairs and the surf situation is looking the same as yesterday - non-existent. That is until I actually get to the beach. There is a very small set of waves breaking a little further out than normal. I noticed this same thing the last time I was here at low tide (which it pretty much is now). This is common this time of year. I think after the last larger swells we had, a sand bar has developed and at low tides it becomes shallow enough to produce a wave. This is also thanks to a low pressure system in the Alaskan gulf that pushed a pulse of swell our way.

I walk to the water and it is still cold enough to slightly numb my toes. Ok that might be a bit of an exaggeration. I can still feel my toes but, there is a bit of a throbbing sensation. I swear it’s true. So as I am walking here, I am reminded of yesterday’s post where I talk about my apprehension to get into the water but try to persuade myself that it will be wonderful. As I am walking today and remembering this, I ask myself, “really? wonderful?” That seems like a bit of an exaggeration. I can see how it could become tolerable, but “wonderful?” That feels over the top to me and I know myself well enough to know that I can certainly wax over the top at times especially as I write here with coffee in hand.

Well it doesn’t matter. I am here now and I’m not going back. Well not until after I get my swim in. I walk out and it’s cold. I’ve done this countless times through winters colder than this. In fact, all five previous winters that I have been doing this have been colder than this one. I start to swim and I feel the intensity of the water most predominately on my face and neck. I try to just focus on my breath. Thank God for the breath. What would I do without that? - probably die I suppose. It’s like a raft that keeps me afloat. It reminds me that all of these thoughts that I have about the cold are far worse than the cold itself. Let go of the thoughts and hold on to the breath. The breath is truth.

Soon my breath carries me to the other side of the cold and I am swimming in this beautiful smooth ocean. The water is clear and the bottom is sandy and shallow and the sky is blue and bright. Still, is this “wonderful?” I’m going to reserve judgement for now. I don’t know if I can yet trust my ability to discern wonderful from not-wonderful. I feel like the jury is still out just coming up with a definition of the term.

I am swimming north and getting closer to the point break in front of the Ritz. I remain fairly close to shore and I pause to look around. I can actually stand here in this spot where I would usually be further out, but it still seems more shallow than it would normally be. I blame it on the low tide and that sand bar. In front of me directly to the north, I see rocks sticking high up out of the water right in front of the lifeguard tower that I usually don’t see. Small waves are breaking right in front of them. They are small enough that I’m not at all worried. There are two surfers sitting just out past all of this and I wonder if anything is going to break where they are. It seems too far out, but you never can tell. I’d usually be inclined to swim out past the surfers, but they are so far out and there is nothing breaking so I take my chances and stick to my longitude.

I stop again when I am right in front of the protruding rocks. I completely forget the cold. This is all so cool and basically perfect. It might as well be August for all I can tell. Ok maybe I don’t totally forget the cold, but I don’t care. It’s good to be here.

I keep swimming and as my eyes slip past and above the surface of the water, I sense the brightness of the sky above me and it fills me with joy. As they slip back beneath the water, I enjoy gazing at the white sandy bottom and the occasional rock here and there. I enter a warmer patch and it feels darn nice. Then I enter a colder patch. I ask myself, “Is this wonderful?” I feel like I’m ready to make a call on this. The answer is a “yes.” I know…I know, you might wonder if I am drinking my coffee right now. Why yes I am and it is most certainly wonderful. Thanks for asking. However, I distinctly remember rolling this all over in my mind as I am in the water. I remember pronouncing the wonderful verdict. I’ll probably forget by the time I am walking on the shore just before my next swim.