A Repeat of Monday the 12th on Tuesday 1/13/25

Able to get myself in the water again. How? Why? Why not?

Early afternoon without a cloud in the light blue sky. Very mild current flowing north to south at the Harbor beach. No photos as they would be repetitive.

Fifteen minutes lying on my back looking for pelicans and seagulls. Very few seagulls and zero pelicans. 

Thank you to buoyancy for the relief of bodily constraints. No more attempts to beat the cold water for me anymore. I wear the wet suit with neoprene cap--yellow. Stare at me if you wish. There are liberties with age. One no longer cares what observers may think of the outfit and limited activity. 

Visibility 4-5 feet. Very few humans in the water. Six surfers. Nice.

"The first time you quit is the last time you try."

OCEANSIDE HARBOR LOW TIDE GORGEOUS MELLOW SWIM Jan 12, 2026

2026 now

Nov 25, 2025 was the last time I got wet!

I can hardly believe the duration of my inactivity. I start radiation soon and I require myself to get a check of my airways--my trachea and lungs--to assess the openness of them...or lack thereof.

Fortunately, I breathed through open airways in the gentle water for 15 minutes. No lung or diaphragm pain or stricture. Lying under a light blue sky with a smattering of white, feathery lines of clouds was stirring. Will I ever decipher the obstacle that blocks me from getting into the water, which I love.

Am I punishing myself. Is it the immobility of depression that smothers me. A heavy layer of metaphorical glue sticking me to my chair? It's a chain holding me fast with weak links that rarely now can I break.

Perfect water conditions for a novice longboard surfer early afternoon. Two-foot, slow waves with a long interval between each. Five-foot visibility, no current. Half a dozen surfers at the south Harbor rock jetty, north side. No tension or competition for the mild, gentle rides. An unexpected blessing for this senior citizen.

"The first time you quit is the last time you try."