Surf lesson #2 today.
I love it. I drove down to Pacifica through fog, wearing a fleece pullover and thinking about how chilly it was. And minutes later, there I was in the pacific ocean.
The best ocean, the biggest ocean, this massive entity that spans the globe for thousands of miles and ends right on my doorstep.
I love how unforgiving the surf is. It doesn’t care who you are, what you know, or how good you were yesterday. It demands your attention at this exact moment. This wave, this swell, this moment will be different. You can only be right here in the present with the waves.
I love the fight and the struggle and the raw energy of getting out beyond the waves. Having a wave come pounding down on you. There is some serious energy there. Seawater in your eyes, ears, nose, mouth. No pause. No rest. No timeout to catch your breath. Keep going and go with it.
And then, the surfing part. Paddle paddle paddle paddle stand. And most times I manage to stay up. And it’s like floating. And all that energy that moments ago was against you, smashing you in the face is suddenly with you. It is effortless. Like skating on ice. Calm. Peaceful. It feels so easy.
And then I jump back into the ocean and do it again. And again. And again.
I love surfing.
Is about the coolest thing I’ve ever done. I hesitate to write about it, because, well, I won’t do it justice.
But I’m hooked. My second lesson is tomorrow night. My instructor seems to be great in terms of technical knowledge, but a little flaky in the scheduling dept. But then again, it’s surfing! Not an appointment with your financial advisor.
The roll of the swells. The salinity of the ocean. The feeling of motion. Sliding across the water. Fighting to paddle out to catch a wave. Watching the horizon. It’s beautiful. It’s amazing. It’s gorgeous. It’s phenomenal.
Oh yeah, it’s kind of expensive too. I figure that surfboard and wetsuit (a must in this area) are going to set me back about $700. But if I pull out the “Matt is no longer consuming wine” calculator, I saved that much money weeks and weeks ago, and well, hell, I deserve it.
The strange thing, to me, about living in SF is the weather.
We have two seasons – dry and rainy. Our winter comes in the summer, and spring and fall are our nicest weather times.
But San Francisco doesn’t really have 4 seasons. And I do miss that from living in Michigan. I loved seeing the leaves turn yellow and red, the autumn air would have a crispness to it that was awesome. Cider harvests, pumpkins, Thanksgiving.
I miss living some place with seasons. I love the cyclical feeling. The cooling down in the fall, the rebirth in the spring. The extremes of summer and winter.
But I don’t miss 100 degree weather with 100% humidity, or snow shoveling, or ice storms, or scraping frost off the car windows.