Ouch

Today was just a lovely day at the beach: nice weather, a mellow group, none of the usual hassles. Stinkeye and hate was missing as the biggest jerks were apparently sleeping off their hangovers. I hung out for a while, did some reading, did some tanning. The good vibe continued into the water, where I regained some of my confidence by getting a couple of rides.



But I also found myself pitched off the front of my board a few times, and around the third or fourth time, when I attempted to resurface with the board in front of me, it clunked me on the head. Well, I was right; this board hurts less than a heavier board when it hits, but it still hurts. And then I ran my hand over my head and saw it for the first time in a couple of years: you guessed it, blood. It wasn't bad, but you never want to see red. I ran out of the water and people immediately came to my aid: T., H., a woman surfer I like a lot, and an anonymous woman who took my hand and led me to the lifeguard shack, saying she was a nurse. The consensus was I didn't need stitches. Thank God! I hate the emergency room.



I iced it, rested up a while, later went to the local bar and still had a nice time.