As I pulled up to the beach and looked out at the water I was overcome by the feeling of disappointment. I had a plan. I was going to swim for exercise in the calm morning waters but apparently, Mother Nature didn’t get the memo. The wind was whipping and the waves were crashing one after the next; there was no hint of calm anywhere in sight.
I stared at the water for a few minutes allowing myself time to regroup and come up with Plan B. Do I sit and sulk? It’s a viable option. Do I go in any way and get nerd tossed by the waves?
GAME ON… Let’s go.
I dropped my towel at the shoreline, did an ankle check for under current/temperature then took a deep breath and made way for the water. I went with the classic sprinting wave hurdle method until I reached dive-in depth to get fully submerged.
That initial dive underwater tends to be littered with anticipation and apprehension but always ends with total and complete revitalization. It’s a supercharging of every cell in your body, which has the capacity to eliminate every random thought in your head and suddenly there is nothing else. It’s truly just you and the water.
Time and space disappeared as I dove into the base of each wave, letting the water roll over my back like a liquid steamroller while the velocity simultaneously popped me back onto my feet just in time to plunge into the next one.
It was nothing I was expecting and everything I actually needed.
Moments like these are the ones you look back to when frantically searching for times where you felt like an active participant in your life rather than a bystander. Laughing in the water without another soul in sight, living for the sake of living and nothing else.
I could have sat in my car and sulked, but this was way better.