Yesterday’s swim was summer and this morning was winter. It was all whipping wind, fog, and clouds at the Albany Bulb this morning. This was the big tree yesterday and today: While the bay looked wild in its dark greens and grays, it felt amazing. Perhaps because the air was so much colder than the water;… Read More What a Difference a Day Makes (Day 135)
Today’s swim felt especially glorious. I’m not sure why. When Angie, Sheila, and I were getting reading to jump in, a cold wind blew and every cell in my body told me to turn around, climb back into the car, and put my warm clothes back on. I rubbed my bare arms, hopped up and… Read More Energy (Day 132)
The wind has been fierce these last few days; picking up in the afternoon and blowing relentlessly into the night. It’s wild and blustery but it makes for some truly spectacular views. Arriving at the Albany Bulb this morning, San Francisco seemed so close you could toss a rock over the Golden Gate Bridge. The… Read More Clear (Day 130)
People often assume that because I swim every day I must be a good swimmer. I am not. I am a slow swimmer with passable form. I can’t remember taking swimming lessons, though I’m sure that I did. I spent lots of time in pools, lakes, and the ocean growing up and it seems like… Read More Slow (Day 118)
I swam by the cigarette butt you casually flicked into the gutter this morning; the empty Cheetos wrapper you dropped on the sidewalk; the rotting orange you tossed into the grass; the baggy that got away from you and you didn’t bother to chase; the plastic bottle top you chucked, laughing, at your friend, which… Read More Dirty Water (Day 106)
I woke up to sunshine this morning and was immediately excited for my swim, but then I went outside and felt the howling wind. As I walked Lulu I had to brace myself against it; it was the kind of blusteriness that has people running down the streets chasing after their hats. I thought, no… Read More Bikini Beach, Vancouver (Day 94)
Each day at eight you can count on a group of swimmers—Marcia always and whichever gang of regular joins her that day—clamoring into the water at the Albany Bulb and going for a solid 30-50 minute swim. We are often getting in before or after them and always look on with awe as they swim… Read More 8 O’Clock Swimmers (Day 84)
I celebrated Saint Patrick’s day this morning with a wild swim with my favorite wild, Irish swimmers, Sheila and Angie. I can’t get over how radically the bay changes from one day to the next. Yesterday was as calm as it gets; all soft rippling water in bright colors, sunlight pouring down, the gentlest tickle… Read More Happy Saint Patrick’s Day (Day 76)
The view of the bridge was vivid as Angie and I arrived at the bulb today; the city looked close enough to swim to. Bright sun and clear skies, the water ripply and blue. The price of such a view was the wind. It whipped around as we reluctantly stripped off our warm outer clothes… Read More Clear (Day 69)
I’m writing this from my comfy chair in a pool of sunshine I have not been able to extract myself from since returning from my swim two hours ago. I’m still wearing my after swim clothes and dry robe; my skin is begging me to get up and take a shower, rinse away the salt… Read More Getting In (Day 66)