Saturday, May 21, 2011

Being Sick Won't Stop Me From Surfing 052111


Surf Report: 2-4 feet max
Winds: none to on shore
Atmosphere: Gloomy
Water: Freezing cold still.  What’s up?

I was 50/50 about surfing today.  Actually, I was 90% sure I wasn’t going to surf.  Matt was already in Trestles by the time I woke up at 600 AM this morning.  I had a late night hanging with Bern since it was his birthday last night.  By a “late night” I mean 100 AM.  Not really the “late nights” I used to pull, but I was still exhausted when I got back home.  Matt wanted to go to Trestles all day since he had finished his finals on Friday night, culminating his first year back as a student after his long tour duty and pencil pushing days.  I was hoping he would just go half a day so I could tag along, but he was adamant about staying the whole day.

My body has been aching and tired for the last week or so, ever since Monday.  I got a cold (most likely from my boss) which started as a sore throat, elevating the bacteria levels to toxic levels in my sinuses, and then pains in my shoulders and knees.  I wore a mask at home in order not to spread any diseases, alas my dad got sick and is living in his bedroom for the past few days.  However, my mom is in tip top shape, so I joked that my dad has too weak of an immune system.  I am still recovering from my sickness, and Friday night was no walk in the park.  I could not taste anything yet, and my body needed rest.  So I opted not to go all day to Trestles with Matt, and saved myself a sure fire viral spreading of the second tsunami of germs after my weak body paddles into another 4-6 foot A Frame at Trestles. 

Instead, I went to 26th Street.

Francis had texted me late at night, saying that he wanted to surf.  I told him let’s go to 26th Street, and he said he would call me in the morning when he was heading over to 26th Street.  Christina had said she would stay local, and to text her if I was going too.  Khang and Dais were going with Mr. Kawasaki Ninja aka DK later in the morning.  So, I texted my life away as the night waned into more wine and beer and dancing with cougars at the Cinema bar.

I woke up at 750 AM, not to my alarm, but my cell phone ringing.  It was Francis. 

“Yo, I’m on my way to 26th Street.  Are you there already?”

“Shit, no, I just got out of bed…”

“Are you surfing today?”

“NO!” my mind screamed.  My body co-signed.

“Sure,” I said, and my body felt extra heavy heaving out of the bedroom. 

I had all my stuff packed up and skipped doing the yoga stretches this morning.  I filled up a jug and didn’t eat anything, for I was not in the mood to eat at all.  I made my way out the house and into the gray and gloomy day, already dreading leaving my warm bed.  But hey, Francis was already there, so I should be there too.

I found a free parking spot right near 28th Street on Highland.  Phew.  I thought I was going to have to pay for parking today, because I sure wasn’t in the mood of skating down the strand.  The sun poked its meager head out between thick plumes of clouds, and quickly disappeared back into the abyss.  My body questioned my actions of surfing today.

I got changed quickly and forgot to put sun block on.  I realized this half way down the slope, and said fuck it.  Oh well.  I waved hi to Bruce in the parking lot, and spotted a green mustang parked in there too.  Manny, I thought to myself.

I get to the 26th Street tower and start stretching.  My nose was still stuffy, and my throat wasn’t all that clear.  It was still congested and coughing up green and yellow mucus.  I did some active stretching, and leashed up into the lonely waters.

Just then I saw an outline of surfer catching a wave on the inside.  Crouched low in her stance, she had both her knees at a 90 degree angle and took a white water wave in.  I could recognize that style from a mile away, even when blind.  It was Christina.  She waved to me as I looked in her direction, covering my eyes from the supposed blinding sun, as in disbelief of who I was seeing.  We said hi to each other and hugged in the crashing white water, as the Ocean swayed and moved with us.  She was about to take a break, and I paddled out to the line up.

The water felt ICE COLD.  I was wondering in my head if this was really the right thing to do.  My body was shivering, my throat was still congested, and my sinuses were clogged.  Well, no turning back now.  I saw Manny in the line up in his neon pink, yellow and orange shorts, bare-backing.  Now, if he’s in the line up, then I have no right to complain about anything. 

I tried my best to paddle slowly and not waste any energy.  It seemed to work since I wasn’t all too tired by the end of the session.  I went for a few waves but nothing spectacular or memorable, since I wasn’t really on my A-Game today. 

Francis spots me and I spot him, and we both say hi to each other.  He was telling me about his work experience so far, and we both agreed that LA is kind of crazy.  He was sharing a story with me about driving a guy back to Watts, and he was just shocked at how ghetto that place was.  He saw crackheads on the street, people dying, and just a poverty level unlike any other place.  He said that you have to have someone watch your back around there, because you never know what might happen.  Watts is a world famous ghetto area, up there in infamy with Compton, South Central, Yonkers and the Bronx. 

Francis caught a few nice little waves, hitting the lip on the rights that came through.  He wasn’t able to land it, but I saw his board’s nose just pop up from the lip of the wave and see buckets of spray come out. 

The local with the …Lost Mayhem board and I started talking as we drifted north.  There was a nice peak right next to us, but we both seemed to be in bad positioning.  He actually pushed me into a few waves but none of those were too memorable, since I shoulder hopped instead of being on the critical part of the wave.  One of his buddies got a nice wave, and I uttered: “Damn goofy footers.”

He laughed at that. 

“You goofy footers are so stylish!  How do you guys do it?” I asked.

He said to me, “Keep your hands quiet.”

What?

“Keep your hand quiet, and surf off your back foot,” he replied.  “That’s what someone told me a loooooooooooooong time ago.  Keep your hands quiet, and surf off your back foot.”

“Well, I think that advice worked.  How long ago did someone tell you that?”

“A LONG time ago,” he smirked. 

“How many decades ago was that?”

He laughed and paddled for an outside set.  He pumped and hit the lip on his back hand and pumped all the way to the inside, hitting the lip again as a punctuation point for his ride.

I tried to keep that in mind as I surfed the rest of the session.  However, I was not in the mode to catch waves today.  It was more of a get your feet wet and get some exercise surf session.  I had a no-paddle take off on a steep wave, but grabbed the rail on the pop up (which is not my normal pop up) and couldn’t get to my feet in a fluid yet solid fashion.  Instead, I ate it in front of the locals. 

Well, come to think of it, am I a local of 26th Street?  I would call that my homebreak since I surf it more often than any other place.  I suppose I am a local there now. 

Anyways, Francis and I regroup around 33rd Street, and I told him I would take the next one in.  He took the first wave that came for a nice little ride, and I took a small wave for a half second ride.  Oh well.  I had to paddle in now. 

I felt much better after the surf session.  My body wasn’t as tired, but I felt great.  My throat was still grouchy, and my sinuses were still plugged.  But, I felt great.  I was happy to have surfed today, and run into a few friends.

I got changed and saw my car’s twin.  The Texas version of my car pulled up behind me with Khang, DK, and Dais inside.  We exchanged pleasantries and I saw Khang’s “new” used board that he found off of craigslist.  It was a Byrson thruster, bright white with a slight ding on the rail towards the nose, but otherwise in pristine condition.  $180, no questions asked.  What a deal. 

I gave them my parking spot, and threw them a shaka.  I hope they had a good surf session too.  I know I didn’t catch any waves today, but I still felt happy to be in the Ocean.  Mahalos again Mother Ocean. 

1 comment:

  1. Might have been better there than my Trestles session. That S swell was a little disorganized. Sounds like it was better that day than it was today. You're definitely a local there. You talk to a lot of people in the line up. I . . . barely. I'm looking forward to this weekend. Take care of yourself and save your paddling arms. You'll need them.

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