Frustrations and Sadness and Anger and Insecurities 100214

Surf Report: Building 2-3 feet+
Water: Warm
Atmosphere: Sunny
Winds: Offshore

I meditated on the talk Elyce and I had. I was angry. I was frustrated. I wasn't in a good headspace. I stretched. I breathed. I contemplated. What was I grateful for in our interactions?

And then it hit me: I was grateful for everything in our interactions. The patience we exhibited for each other, the laughter we shared, the pains we endured, the ideas we bounced off of each other, the time we spent together, the lessons we learned.... everything. Everything just made sense for me to be grateful for what I had, instead of what I didn't.

I said a great thank you to her and fell asleep Wednesday night.

Thursday, I woke up with a slightly depressed (understandably so) outlook but gratefulness in my heart for the day. It was going to be a day full of ups and downs, I know, but I gotta get through it. The sun is out. There are waves. Matt will be there.

 I get to the beach and the groms are still out. I guess when it's good, the parents are ok with them being a little late to school. What can't they learn at the beach that they can't at school? Cooperation, teamwork, happiness... all of that could be learned at the beach. But ask them to compose a derivative for a multi-variable equation and they throw their hands up.

It's throwing over today, I thought. There is potential for barrel rides... Am I going to be able to surf these waves? My insecurities run through my veins like ice cold beer.

I see Matt south of me, struggling. We meet up, manhug, and I vent out what has happened in the last two days. He reassures me that I am doing the right thing and further perpetuates my belief of not giving any discounts to others of my self-worth. If they can't appreciate you for who you are, then they're not worth your time.

I see that the Brick House is firing, and people are getting barrels. They aren't making them all the time, but people are pulling in and getting gobbled up. And then, there are the ones that all drop in on them as they get gobbled up... it looks FUN.

I start clenching my teeth and breathing through my tightly gritted jaw, reminiscing of my day in Mexico when I found my cajones on the 5th day. I started telling myself, JUST THROW YOURSELF OVER THE FALLS, IT'S NOT THAT BAD.

So, I did.

From the first wave I caught, my game was on. I took out all my frustrations and sadness and anger and insecurities on each wave that came my way. There was no way I was backing out. NO FUCKING WAY. This is my way of dealing with my problems, and no one was getting in the way of it. You don't want that wave? Good, because I want it. You want that wave? Even better, because I know how to paddle harder with my head down. On more than one occasion, I wouldn't even make the drop because I was too late and too deep. But that didn't mater - what mattered was that I got pitched and tumbled and held down and dragged on the sand and come up smiling from the wave. To me, that's all that mattered this day.

I kept trying to pull in on every wave. There was no way I was making it, but I wanted to start pumping and then stall, or just stall from the start to get that vision, that sound of the hollow wave, crashing over me like an envelope of beautiful water speckles. I pulled in so deep on one that I got pitched over, slammed on the inside, then pitched again, and then slammed on my right hip from the impact.

I came up, smiling.

Matt came over, and told me that I was going for it. I didn't feel like it was enough by just "going for them" but his words fed me more encouragement to just paddle for everything.

There was a guy who I had never seen before surfing well. He had almost a unibrow and was wearing a Rip Curl wetsuit. He didn't concede too many waves, so I wasn't digging his vibe too much, but on a left, he tried to paddle, failed, and told me to go. I two-paddled into the wave, and got in. I started to high-line pump on my backside, and I saw a grom on the inside without his board. I mustered my all of my strength that my reaction timing would allow and did a backside carve in front of him. He hooted a loud "WOOOOOOOO~" and ducked beneath the wave, a few feet ahead of me. I redirected my board, and grabbed the rail. I put my left arm forward towards the curling lip, and started to pump with my right arm grabbing the rail. My board sped up, and after a two pumps with my right hand, I was out in the open face again. I did one more cutback and straightened out. That one wave just made my day.

I saw Toru on the inside, paddling out. He didn't see the wave, but was all smiles as always.

The locals are standing out as always. Davey is killing it on his short fat board. The pecking order is in full force, and it is clear that those who come here the most often, are getting the most waves. I'm glad Matt and I are here all the time. 

I see Matt just charging for the lefts south of the tower. He is deeper than anyone, and is committing to being obliterated from the waves. He is, in my mind, clenching his teeth and smoothing out the grit of his barrel riding technique. I am thankful that he is my battle buddy and that we WILL score barrels this winter. I know we are. We will split a peak during the winter and both get barreled out of our minds at our local spot, here at 26th Street. We have the mindset. We just need the waves.

I signal to him for "Next One." Never the ever-so-taboo "One more," but the "Next One."

I catch a close out, and throw a shaka at him. It's almost 1000 AM. I am completely late for work.

Well fucking worth it, in my books.

Sorry I'm not sorry.

Mahalos Mother Ocean!!!