There's this lake I used to swim in, with a beach. I'd get out, where the water was over my head, and just swim, swim, swim, until finally I was tired, and had to go in.
You swim toward the beach, and at some point, you transition from swimming to walking. You don't want to begin walking too soon, because if you begin walking as soon as your feet can touch the bottom, the wall of water is strong against your chest, and you wind up slogging and trying to push through. If you keep swimming too long, you slam your knees into rocks and look silly to the people up on the beach.
Unlike the swimming out in the middle of the lake, it's nothing dramatic, nothing life or death. It's just this little awkwardness, this transition.
That's where I am right now.