Life Will Be Different

Well I managed to royally over stress my achilles yesterday. I hear about people getting hip and knee replacements. I’d like an achilles replacement please. Of course it was my fault for choosing to run 7 miles after over stressing it last week. I was going to use a stationary bike and then go for a shorter run but someone else was using the bike in my small apartment gym. So I just HAD to put in a full run.

Fortunately conditions are perfect for a swim today. Hopefully this will continue to be the case for a while. I am considering other exercise options. I have been thinking for years about getting back into yoga. That might just be the perfect thing for me now. I’m not crazy about paying money but sometimes you have to invest in yourself.

Skies are what I would call partly cloudy this morning. There is a lot of blue sky but a lot of haze around the edges. I’m sure this will mostly burn off before the morning is finished. I leave at about 8:30 and there is a lot of low blurry vapor over the water. It’s not so much that I would label it “fog.” I can see right through it to the horizon.

When I get a good view of strands and salt creek from selva, the sky looks like it is in the process of opening up with some darker clouds lingering in the not too far distance. I’d say it is darker on the north than the south but not so much to make me want to cancel my northern route swim.

The buoy temps were up a bit this morning - 66 - so I am confident it is going to be a comfortable swim. I park and head down the stairs. The mild air feels good on my skin. I am listening to the sound of the surf from the beach. It sounds so good. It has a different tone when you mix in the anticipation of actually merging with the surf. Yes, soon, I and the surf will be one. It’s not big or cold but I know that as soon as I break through the surface, life will be different. Even though I have done this so many times, I just can’t fully comprehend right now how this difference will look and feel. Every time surprises me and not so much because every time is different even though every time is different. I am looking at the world now with a certain set of eyes and once I immerse myself in that water, the eyes change. The eyes I have now can appreciate the eyes I will have in the water but they cannot understand them.

I arrive at the shore and as soon as the water runs over my feet, I can tell the difference from my Monday swim. Monday was relatively nice too but at least a degree cooler. Every degree counts until you get to about 68 in my opinion. After 68, it’s all comfortable.

I am practically limping thanks to my achilles. Ok, not practically, I am truly limping. I like to think that I look and feel young for my age (57) but today I can hear my age knocking at my door. They say there are two periods in our lives where many age most rapidly: the mid 40’s and mid 60’s. My 40’s were pretty good to me and I really hope that my 60’s will be the same. Perhaps the yoga will help? I certainly don’t think the ocean is hurting. Sometimes I feel like I lose a decade or two once I enter the ocean. It’s probably the amniotic feel of the water.

I walk into the small surf being careful as I step on my left foot which has the injury. Very soon, I start to swim and the kicking motion of my legs, ankles, and feet actually feels very soothing. I could do this all day. The water feels great. I am reborn.

I swim north and I know that until I reach the Monarch Bay Beach Club about a mile ahead of me, I will be staring at the horizon and all I will see is this mixture of soft blue sky surrounded by white amorphous vapor. I choose a patch of blue to focus on. I stare at that for the entirety of the north bound leg. It feels good to look at. I imagine the light flowing from that blue patch, into my eyes and landing right in my heart. It’s not difficult at all to imagine - probably because it is actually happening.

Every now and then I look up to make sure I am still on a trajectory for the beach club. My goggles are fogging up quite a bit and I have to stop a few times to clear them out but I can mostly make out what I need to make out even through the fog. Even if I can’t see it, I have this strong knowing that I am heading in the right direction.

At one point about three fourths of the way to the northern end, I see this red fuzziness pass over my field of vision. I stop to get a better look. Oh! It’s that buoy I remember from Sunday. I say hello. It responds telepathically. I want to ask it what it has seen here these last few days. I figure there must have been a few notable sightings. Unfortunately I just don’t have time for chit chat and I carry on.

Well here I am. Right in front of the beach club. I take in the sights and turn around to swim back to where I came from. It’s such a great swim. The water feels so good. The sky is getting brighter. I feel like I have a pretty good view of the shore now despite the fog in my goggles. I take it all in. I feel memories of the past mingle with the anticipation of things to come. These things travel in the colors and shapes in front of me.

I pass the surfers in front of the Ritz and watch the rocks and kelp that lie on the ocean floor below me. Visibility is fair - not great but not terrible either. I just like looking into the blue. Everything I see calms me and today I didn’t need that much calming in the first place, but we all need some amount of calming always and I take all that I can get.

I swim this last little bit through Strands beach in front of Niguel Shores. I am ever so gradually veering closer and closer to shore. As the space between me and the rocks below becomes more shallow, I can feel the swirling current of the water with less subtlety. It seems like my hands will touch the sea grass covered rock below me but they don’t.

The rocks dissipate into a clearing of white sandy bottom as I come to the section of beach where I typically exit the water. I let myself just float here for a minute just past the breaking surf. Then, when I feel ready, I swim to shore. I feel my fingers brush against the sand. A breaking wave rolls over me and I use the extra water to lift myself to my feet and limp back to my car appretiating the extra time that gives me to breathe in this wonderful salty air.