Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Rain session

Today was the first time I've ever (intentionally) gone surfing in the rain. I was up early hoping for good waves, which there really were not; too much wind was on it. And the waves were a bit big. I sat there in my suit deciding whether to go or not, and my thoughts went like this: Someday I will be an old woman in a wheelchair in a nursing home, and I will think back to this day and (if I don't go) say to myself: What the hell was I thinking when I had use of all my limbs and energy and I let a little rain stop me from surfing?

Actually the rain didn't bother me. Unless it's driving or pelting, which it wasn't, so what? You're already wet. But the paddle out was a bitch. The challenge today, the way in which you had to be aggressive, was not in the riding but the getting out.

These were the biggest waves we've seen in months. There really weren't any lulls to paddle out in. Nevertheless they weren't as powerful as they looked. I was able to get through many of them just by doing pushups, and the bigger ones by putting my head down and holding onto the board. I turtled as well. Those last two moves didn't really work on the bigger waves because I still got spun around and pushed back. I think I'm missing something my surf instructor told me to do, like push down on the board as well. A few times I almost made it and got pushed back.

A couple more turtles and I would have made it out. I know I could have done it. I wasn't even scared. It was more like: What am I getting out there for? Once I get out there, can I get a ride back in? And once in, how many times am I going to want to do this paddle again?

A little more aggression was what I needed, I knew that but it wasn't really the issue.

There were two guys on shortboards (well, everyone was on shortboards today) who were having trouble as well. One didn't seem to do the duckdive very well and the other was just clueless. I watched them try again and again. Funny how we're influenced by each other. When it looked like the fat clueless guy was going to make it, I pushed myself: C'mon, even he can do it! (But he didn't.) I think if he had made it, I would have made myself make it too. The two of them banded together, were talking, even though I don't think they came together. Eventually the other guy seemed to give up and was just trying to take off on insiders or whitewater.

Maybe he's not such a good surfer after all. It was a guy I'd seen yesterday, and I don't remember seeing him do well then either. I always think that other people are better than me, but maybe that's not so.

When I saw him catching the insiders I tried that too, and at least got one ride that way. It was my only ride of the day.

The rain started pelting, and the wind started stirring up a dust storm, and at that moment, I thought: enough. But I was also watching that shortboarder who wasn't so clueless, who was also on the beach at that moment, waiting to see if he was going in or out. I didn't want to get out if he wasn't getting out, for then I would be a wimp compared to him. Right? Why did I care?

As it turned out, the pelting rain would very soon change to soft mist, and the wind would die down. But I didn't know that yet. The conditions, if not the other surfer, gave me the permission to leave the beach and the session honorably.

And you know what? He went back in, but only for a couple of minutes. Before I had left the beach, I saw him coming out and reaching for his board bag. Perhaps it was me who gave him the permission he needed to get out of a frustrating session. We waved at each other in silent acknowledgment as I left.