Surfing & Me

  In front of me is a gorgeous beach, warm as can be sea water, and the most friendly waves a part-time surfer could ever ask for. Yet for the life of me, I can’t get myself motivated to pick up the board and jump in and on. Why? I’ve been asking myself that question these last three cups of coffee. Why? 

  I realize that I’m not the best surfer. I picked it up late in life so the perfected skill that comes with the muscle memory of youth isn’t there. Also, the gut has expanded and the push up strength has waned a bit so there’s no quick get up and go. But that can’t be all. 

  With any sport, or activity for that matter, the more you do it the better you get. The better you get, the more you want to do it. That explains my newfound mastery of skiing, though still trepidatious on double black diamond runs, I’ll ski down any run and want more. Golf is another sport I picked up late. Set me down on any course in the world, I’ll get a few pars. Maybe a few balls in the water too but I’ll hold my own. So what is it with surfing?

  The last few decades I’ve told myself and others that I’m looking for that perfect beach with that perfect break and I’ll surf all day. Well, here it is and I can’t get myself to go. Have I been deluding myself this whole time? 

“C’mon,” I scream to myself:

“Get up. 

Pick up the board. 

Paddle out. 

Sit on board and rest a spell. 

See the wave. 

Turn and paddle, paddle, paddle. 

Feel the wave, feel the pull.

Jump on and riiiiiide.” 

  I feel energized. I finish my coffee. I start to get up and think, yeah, I’m gonna do it!! But it’s getting late now. The sun’s a little too strong. Hmm, maybe tomorrow.