submerged; an overview

You’re sore, aching, everything hurts. Your extremities are numb, your ribs are bruised, you’ve inhaled lungful after lungful of sea water or snow.

Hyatt Regency San Francisco, San Francisco, United States

You’re afraid a set will come that’s too powerful to handle, afraid a current will pull you out, afraid of sharks, of hitting your head, of not gathering up your aching bones and coming in at the end of the day.

You wake up to nerves, to a pounding head. Maybe your car is snowed-in, you can’t open the door and you’re engulfed by your own frosty clouds of breath. Your neck barely moves, your stomach is a pit. But you go back out, again and again and again. There’s something about it that’s addicting, it swallows you.

Other sports slowly take over. Free climbing, backcountry skiing, via ferrata, stunt flying, diving. Sheer faces of rock, no rope, clinging on with careful footwork, shaky breath, a bit of chalk. Biting windstorms, flurries, more grimy ice and crud than powder. Climbing up covered in heavy, pinching gear. No feeling in your toes, eyes wind burnt, trudging upwards for hours just for a 2 minute ride down. Hiking for days for a view that might be entirely clouded over, sleeping on rocky outcrops with only some peanut butter and crackers. Rolling little planes for a split second of thrill, jumping out, running off cliffs with a crinkly bit of parachute. Diving to see creatures you could easily see in a magazine, no oxygen, testing yourself.

All of it is risk. A dance with your life, with your future.