Open Water Swimming. Sounds petrifying, doesn't it? It was for me for a long time, and if I am being honest, it still is. Every time I drive to an open water swim session, I psych myself out. Sharks, rough tide, big waves. Sometimes I secretly hope the fog will overtake the shoreline, like it did one Sunday morning, so that we can forego the workout and go straight for the coffee shop afterwards instead. The truth though, is I am always happier after I have spent time in the ocean. How did it take until I was almost 50 years old for me to figure this out?
I have always thought the ocean was powerful and yet calm at the same time. When I moved back to California 10 years ago, I kept a beach chair and a towel and a pair of flip flops in the back of my zippy blue Prius in case I ever had a moment to sit on the beach I lived just 7 miles from. I often stopped there after errands. If I had to drive down the coast, I opted to drive Pacific Coast Highway instead of the 5 freeway. I was never the sit in the sun and douse my body with baby oil teenager. Remind me to thank my young self now since I don't have the sun wrinkles and the skin cancer to contend with as reminders of those choices. When I was starting my life over at 0, the ocean felt like a place of hope. I didn't go in much back then. I watched the stillness as well as the power of the water. I smelled the sea air. I listened to the waves crashing on the sand. It centered me. I felt my spine unwind in these moments.
Somewhere along the way I was gifted the amazing friendships of people who did things I never thought I could do. In my mind I stopped being an athlete a million years ago. Sure, I completed half marathons, but I was never fast. I was a fat, single "soccer mom." My friend Angela convinced me, along with a couple of other friends to go to an open water swim session. I brought my friend Vickie and we tried it and took a couple of lessons. We were never confident. After we heard of a shark attack on the same beach (the kid was chumming lobster traps and got bitten), we got scared and didn't come back for a year and a half. No joke. We were out.
So fast forward to this year. Covid-19 and the year that shall not be named, 2020. Vickie and I decided to try this again. We recruited some friends to join us. Soon, we had a small pod of beginners like us to try swimming in the ocean again. Suddenly there was time and a need for an outlet. The group we started with before had grown and changed names to One With The Ocean, led by the swim mechanic, himself, Bryan. This was a year of loss. I lost my job due to the pandemic. I no longer had routine. I gained some weight--I didn't social distance enough from the fridge. I lost some motivation--Depression will do that to you. But Sundays at Moonlight Beach were always something to look forward to. I wasn't afraid to be at the beach amidst the pandemic quarantine. I was afraid of everywhere else...to the point that I stopped going to my running group with my beloved running friends. Somehow I felt safer.
This pod of swimmers, my friends, we were basically all beginners. We still are. There were zero expectations of what we could do. We knew we weren't up to the task of keeping up with the workouts yet. But we thought if we kept trying, then one day we would be swimming the loops along with the best of them. The people with One With The Ocean are some of the kindest, most giving people I have ever met. It felt very much like the comfort of my run group. Swimming in the ocean was new. I remember thinking, "You mean, we are going to go past where the waves start?? Ridiculous!" Fear and lots of no ways crossed my mind. But we kept trying. Antony, one of the nicest people in the group, helped us learn how to dive under waves and hold onto the sand so we can avoid the crash on top of us. He taught us about watching the timing and swimming when we are waist deep in the water and to not waste too much energy fighting the tide before going for it. Before you knew it, he had us past the break. I remember being completely in awe of the fact that I was so far from shore. There is a sense of giving up control. Letting go, I was filled with joy and excitement. I was on a complete high the entire drive home and I don't think I took a breath while chattering to my friend Jessica, while we were in the car. There was nothing like it.
I bought all the gadgets...new goggles, a sharkbanz (I look like a seal in a wet suit and if this gave me peace of mind, then it was worth it. I haven't been eaten yet!), a wet suit, swim shoes. Our swim pod started going every Sunday. We were getting braver each week. We would get past the break and then just hang out paddling and laughing and catching up while floating. We called it floats and strokes. We would float and take some strokes and then do it again. We were really just trying to get used to being in the water so far from the beach. My favorite times of the week were past the break during our little mid swim chat sessions. I laughed all the time. We were silly. We were playing. It was light, when the rest of the world felt so heavy. Soon, a few of us started to add an extra day at another location to try and get better with our strokes and to see how much farther we could swim. We started watching instructional videos to have the proper stroke. It was our new obsession. And we still laughed every time we were together. Everyday in the water was joy.
The quarantine and all of the fallout of Covid-19 is hard on everyone. I am not sure I know anyone who hasn't had a touch of the blues. My depression hit pretty hard in June. I found healing and joy in the ocean. I jumped at the chance to be in the water anytime I could. Twice a week I swam with the group. Suddenly the gals in my swim pod would suggest we meet in the evenings every now and then before the sun set for a swim session. Oh my goodness. The fun these evenings were and are. When I am with them in the water, I just giggle riding the swells of what will be waves crashing onto the beach. I find myself smiling from ear to ear as we try to navigate around the kelp to get past the break and just hang out in the water. We are surrounded by calm and we are just beyond the power of the tide. And I feel peace. And I feel joy. And I feel the fun of playtime again. It was a revelation when I realized we have been playing in the waves. When is the last time anyone has just played? Before all of this, I haven't played with the freedom of a child in decades.
I recently read the book, Why We Swim, by Bonnie Tsui. I was transfixed. Everything I read, I found myself nodding in agreement. In her book, she writes: "Swimming is by definition the state of not drowning." Man, oh man. I was drowning before I started to swim in the open water. I was drowning in sadness and lack of direction in a changing, scary world. In the ocean, I found bravery. I became brave to try new things, in so many different ways. In the ocean, I found fun. My friends and I laughed and laughed every time we put our toes in the water. In the ocean, the problems of the moment could be sorted out. We solved all sorts of current events in our middle of the ocean tea parties. In the ocean, I found joy. My cries of despair turned into cries of joy. It's been a long time since I have laughed so much. Unbridled Joy. I have described my experiences in the water this way a few times. There are no other words that do it the justice that these two simple words convey. I found joy.
I have learned through open water swimming that sometimes the unexpected things will bring you the greatest rewards. I've also learned that the dark times we are in? They won't last forever. Maybe I am learning to navigate it all a little better? Bryan teaches us to remember our breathing when we are swimming. I hear his voice, "Inhale, exhale." He teaches us to keep our eyes on the shore. Inhale. Exhale. Watch for our sighting. Everyday the tide comes in and everyday the tide goes out. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe.
I am breathing easier these days. And I think that helps me find joy everywhere else too.
No comments:
Post a Comment