The waves beat me today.
Kathleen and I took our usual early morning trek to the coast, this time with my Aunt Elaine. For today’s adventure, we went to Fletcher Cove in Solana Beach where there was a group meeting at 7. I wasn’t sure I wanted to swim with them because they looked a bit intense in their picture online, but I thought I’d at least go at the same time.
It was a beautiful drive through North San Diego county, winding roads with lots of open spaces, trails, and parks. I was optimistic as I arrived at the lovely Fletcher Cove park.
But then I saw the waves and started to get uneasy. At first, they seemed manageable and I got undressed, telling myself it would be fine. The swimming group arrived—nearly twenty of them—and they were very friendly so I fell in with them, chatting about their swim plan, the conditions, and my pathological fear of the surf. They were very encouraging and for a few minutes, I thought I was going to be able to do it.
But the waves got the better of me. I finally told the swimmers to go ahead and stayed stuck on the wrong side of the breakers.
It was disappointing and as I watched them reach the buoy and swim parallel to the shore, I kicked myself for my wimpiness, longing to be with them.
But I made the most of it; playing in the surf, trying to make friends with the waves. I swam back and forth through the shallows, which was pretty satisfying until I saw a stingray swim by, and then that seemed treacherous, too.
All in all, not my proudest swim, but I can’t complain too much: I got to spend a half hour in the ocean and that’s never not a beautiful thing.