Cindy Knoebel shares about her experience trying to swim in the San Francisco Bay.
Not all dreams are meant to come true. What matters most though is daring to dream in the first place. I just turned 65, but I want to keep challenging myself. One dream I’ve had is swimming from Alcatraz to San Francisco. I’m a former competitive swimmer and hit the pool every other day. But battling the cold, choppy waters of San Francisco Bay is way out of my comfort zone.
First things first, I bought a wetsuit. After 15 minutes of squirming, struggling and sweating to pull it on, I felt like I’d been shrink-wrapped in industrial-grade rubber. I could barely move. I called the customer help line. “It’s gotta be snug,” a representative said. “And you should try it out in the water.”
Down to Richardson Bay I went. It was chilly, but I donned cap and googles and dove in. “This isn’t so bad,” I thought as I took a few strokes. Then I noticed I was having trouble breathing. It was as if a python had entwined itself across my chest, cutting off my oxygen supply. It was the chokingly tight wetsuit. I gasped my way back to shore. I called the representative again. He advised against trying larger wetsuit, insisting it would be too big for my frame. What now? I don’t want to sink to the bottom of the Bay as I breathe my last breath.
So maybe, my Alcatraz dream is just that: a dream. And that’s OK. After all, dreaming in and of itself is a delicious pleasure. You can visit your dreams anytime you want. They’re like old friends, always cheering you on, always sympathetic. Maybe I will order a different wetsuit and try again.