I have heard the toadfish singing.
The toadfish sits on the bottom of the sea, singing a song of love.
The toadfish sits on the bottom of the sea, singing a song of love.
It’s November, and in the seasonal ebb and return of the San Francisco economy that means it’s time for Dreamforce, the annual tradeshow hosted by Salesforce.com.
I was on the third leg of the Dolphin Club’s Escape From Alcatraz Triathlon, and so far that morning I’d already swum from Alcatraz to Aquatic Park (58 minutes), bike to Mill Valley (about an hour), and run as far as Muir Woods. I figured I needed to conserve energy and take the fastest route.
According to the Marathon Swimmers Federation, the minimum distance to qualify a swim as a “marathon swim” is 10 kilometers.
It’s Spring, since yesterday, and I’m swimming again. The familiar soreness of the arm and shoulder muscles, the cup of
I have loved the San Francisco waterfront since I first saw it. For years, my commutes have taken me along
Pelicans stood on the breakwater, gravely watching us as we swam by. I’ve come to think of the shorebirds as
Last weekend I entered the water much better prepared than the week before, and managed to swim for two and
“We come into temporary harmony with the water, and are fortunate to sometimes be allowed to pass through.” Evan Morrison,
Yesterday I swam around Aquatic Park on a sunny, windy afternoon with shreds of fog whipping themselves away from the