Better to Jump

The calm after the jump. Alcatraz looms large, as always

As a swimmer, I have yet to experience a sunriser like this one. Truth be told, I did not want to jump. I have jumped many times before, and I will jump many times more in the future, Kier willing.

Why not jump? Simple. My brain thinks the water feels cold, and I’m minimally acclimated. Nothing—well, almost nothing—is worse than the cold water immersion shock. My heart rate shoots up, my respiration rate increases, and my breathing suffers. In my head, it’s just miserable. But I set that all aside knowing our pilots would be in RHIBs, testing their swimmer recovery skills if I needed help.

Jon let me swim in his presence - he has the best stroke I have seen 

So, like all SERC sheep, I followed everyone else on the march to Pier 39. Four RHIBs arrived shortly after the 15 swimmers. Then, we disrobed. Unlike Zach’s friends, who completely disrobed in the RHIBs for his birthday swim on Wednesday, our disrobing was limited to suitable swim attire.

All smiles from seasoned birthday suit models Jas, Kerianne & Fiona

After the final count, I climbed over the railing and sat on it. Why sit? Why not? The horn went off, and I jumped. As gravity sucked me down into the frigid embrace of the San Francisco Bay, the cold set in. Inch by inch, my skin went from chilled to goosebumps to downright numb. The transition seemed to last forever as I plunged deeper into the murky waters. With each foot of descent, the temperature continued to drop. But my natural buoyancy propelled me back up as quickly as I fell.

During this short return trip to the surface—lasting only a few seconds—my numb skin suddenly felt warm. Much to my surprise, I smiled ear to ear, reminded once again: it's always better to jump, cold be damned.

The Jump!

Shoutout to Sean & Jill for the awesome photos/videos