Back to the small waves

Today I got up at a record hour, thinking the wind would be north (it was) and the waves would be the perfect size for me. Actually, the wind held all day, so I needn't have bothered going to bed so early, but the waves were the size I anticipated, about two and a half feet.

I was out in a crowd at the jetty and held my own, getting my share of waves and rides. I did better, I noted, than some of the guys who think they're hot shit but seemed to have lost it, at least for today. You know who you are.

But enough about them. It was fun, a good day for me by any measure.

And yet:

I kept thinking about yesterday and how different it was and how, in some ways, it was more fun or different, maybe better fun.

Because at least I was totally focused on surfing. I wasn't thinking about whether I should do my laundry later on or not. My mind did not wander to think about various problems in my life. There weren't lulls, there wasn't time, I had to stay alert. I didn't even listen to music, which I usually do when I'm surfing. And though I had fun today, it was pretty predictable, not challenging fun.

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