The Space Between the Ears

Non-bay swimmers regularly ask, "Why do you do it?" News commentators sometimes report on swim events or newsworthy phenomena such as sea lion attacks. When interviewing a top competitor on the beach, this is a question that's almost guaranteed. The broadcasting team back in the studio will collectively shudder and declare, "Those folks are crazy," or "That's not for me."

One way to describe the total experience of swimming in cold water is to compare it to drinking an excessive amount of alcohol. The sequence of sensations is inverted. For people who like their spirits, that first sip is delightful and refreshing. As the drinking continues, a pronounced euphoria settles in. Next comes the stumbling and the mumbling. Then comes the savage headache, the aching muscles, and the lethargic miasma that can last most of a day.

Swimming in the bay on the other hand starts with the pain. When the water is below 50 degrees, wading into the ocean feels like someone has wrapped a huge pair of vice-grip pliers around your shins and is exerting a massive squeeze. Immersing the chest is slamming your torso into a cement wall. When the heads goes into the water, ice cream headaches can ensue.

After five to fifteen minutes, though, the weightless gliding, the natural beauty, the watery caress and a sense of peace settle in. Climbing out on the beach later often includes a little stumbling. The frozen jaw and lips make communication sound like a drunken mumble. Then, with a warm shower and a sit in the sauna, the body reaches a tipping point. Suddenly, you're no longer cold and the feeling is much like that first sip of cold beer on a hot summer day after mowing the lawn. The subsequent euphoria can last well into the afternoon.

Conrad von Blankenburg once told me with great sincerity that the Dolphin Club has saved the lives of many people. I believe him. If it hasn't saved my life, it has certainly made it much richer. Joe Schatz says the club is "an oasis of mental hygiene." The National Geographic's term for what we experience in the bay is, "a wilderness experience in an urban setting." I think of it as pushing a large button labeled "clear and reset" every day. In any case, for many of us, the effort is only partly about physical exertion. It's much more about what happens between the ears.