This

Another spectacular, albeit chilly, morning. Well, chilly by southern California standards. It used to amuse and confuse me when I lived in Washington and would come down here for the holidays to find people out in their fleece jackets once the temperature drops below 65. I’d be thrilled not to be needing a cap and gloves and enjoying the freedom of a short sleeved shirt. Lately I’ve been trying to only wear shorts and a short sleeved shirt when I walk my dog in the morning. My apartment here seems uncapable of producing anything close to a cold shower so this is my new method of daily cold exposure. Earlier in the Fall I was lamenting the fact that soon I’d be needing to wear a jacket on those walks. Then it dawned on me - just don’t. No one will die of exposure in 55 degree weather. Just like swimming in the cold, if you relax and accept the cold and sort of visualize your skin opening up to the sensation of cold, then cold is not an enemy but a friend.

This all reminds me of the first week after I moved to Washington. It was just about this time of year. I was super cold my first day when it was in the 50’s and then later that week I went for a run in the morning and it was 15 degrees. I did wear thermals and gloves but I remember thinking this was a whole new level of cold and the thought of dying from cold exposure really seemed like something one could achieve here given the right circumstances. By the time I left Washington 10 years later, I had adapted quite a bit.

Anyways it is 62 by the time I leave for the beach today at 10:00. The sun feels good as it shines through my car window and there are no clouds in its path to my skin. As I approach the stairs to the beach, I try to avoid any patches of shade. The temperature differential between shade and sun seems extreme and I’m finding that I strongly prefer the sunny side.

I get to the beach and oh man is it beautiful. The sky is so bright and clear. The surf is down even further than it was yesterday. There is really nothing to surf right here. It’s a little more ridable over at Salt Creek and there is a small pack of surfers sitting out there. The water inshore here looks clear and I can see Catalina out on the edge of the horizon.

I get in the water and it is so beautiful but also feels cold. It doesn’t matter. This is going to happen. In just a few short moments I am going to lean in to the water and I will feel it all around me. I can’t say I am looking forward to it right now but thats all just par for the course. I know that once I am swimming, it will feel good in so many ways.

It must be a self-fulfilling prophecy because this all comes to pass in very little time. I submerse myself and exhale through that initial cold feeling. I then envision myself opening my skin and letting in every bit of cold that is here and I welcome it into myself. I feel the energy of the water. I just keep swimming and I’m waiting to breach that invisible boundary where the water becomes palatable. Ok…I think I’m there. This is good. I acknowledge that it is a little chilly but it is still well above the 50’s which means I can stay out here for over an hour without any concern of hypothermia. Somehow simply knowing I don’t have to worry about hypothermia is always a relief. It’s something that happens at about 59 degrees for me. It’s a nagging feeling wondering if you are over doing it or not. Still as the season progresses, 59 becomes comfortable and eventually the bar moves to about 56 degrees.

Well I am just going to let myself enjoy what I have here because let me tell you there is much to enjoy. I’m heading north towards Salt Creek and Monarch. The points to both the north and south look crisp and clear and the sky and the water look so blue and the visibility below the surface is quite decent. It’s not the amazing clarity we had exactly a week ago but I can see the ocean floor over the entire swim which is very pleasant to look at.

Today my head is filled with music. I bought a keyboard (of the musical variety) and it arrived yesterday. I have not had access to a piano for almost a year and that is something that has been one of the biggest sources of joy for me to play over the last few decades and especially the past 7 years. I really didn’t want another piano because they are such a pain to haul around and I don’t envision me being in this apartment long term. Back in the late 80’s and early 90’s I was into keyboards and really enjoyed arranging multiple tracks of different sounds. Today’s keyboards have incredibly realistic piano sounds. So I got a nice one that sounds far better than the piano I had been playing for the last many years and it will never need to be tuned.

I have to say that I love it so much. In fact it is a little frightening how much I love it. If I were a junkie, this keyboard would be like a syringe of heroine fully ready to shoot up. It sits right here next to me now and it takes all that I have to keep writing this post and not stop to play it. After playing yesterday, my mind feels like it is on fire with music - a good kind of fire. The music runs continuously over the swim and I thoroughly enjoy it. This used to be a frequent companion on my swims until I stopped playing. I am very happy to have found this lost friend and we have much catching up to do.

I swim past the Ritz and along Salt Creek all the way to the Monarch Bay Beach Club. I stop a couple times along the way. Because of the very small surf and high tide, I swim particularly close to the lifeguard tower. It usually looks far away but today I could practically yell to the lifeguards on duty and maybe be heard. On another pause I can hear the waves breaking and it just sounds so good.

By the time I get to the beach club, I’m quite comfortable even though I really don’t feel much warmer. I’ve just made my peace with the water. I continue to be surprised by how gorgeous everything looks. I don’t know what I expected but every time I stop to look I realize that I certainly did not expect THIS.

I turn around and enjoy the view of the beach all the way back to my finishing point which is as far as I can possibly go before heading up the stairs. I swim all the way until I am practically at the base of the ramp. I stand myself up and ponder this whole experience all the way up the stairs.