You’re obsessed. Photo: Lindquist/Haro
As Trent Reznor sings, “I hurt myself today”— but it wasn’t today, and let’s gloss over the details…OK, it involved an excitable dog, a tripwire leash, a sharp table corner and a sea of embarrassment. Not the point. The point is, I bruised my ribs and couldn’t surf. All I could do to try to scratch my itch was walk to the beach amid the rolling swells dotted with surfers, and drown in jealousy.
What happens when you go cold turkey on the waves for a week? Here’s what I missed with every fiber of my wounded, spoiled being:
1. The Shit Sessions. It doesn’t take long to miss the sessions you typically complain about, when you realize that just getting in the water on that crowded, knee-high Saturday morning makes your entire day.
2. Picking up your Board. Holding it under your arm, waxing it up. A simple, deliberate action that stands for so much.
3. The Anticipation. The session could be anything. Sick, disappointing, mind-blowing, cruel and unforgiving, freakish, blown out, closing out, mellow. The waves won’t do the same thing twice, ever, and what else can you say that about besides maybe a Phish show?
4. The Commitment. Stand in the sand and zip that suit up and suddenly, you’re committed. No matter how much the sea howls, you’re going. No one has ever zipped up their suit and then turned around and left the beach (if you have, never tell anyone).
5. The First Duck Dive. In his book Deep, author and surfer James Nestor talks about the “Master Switch,” a physiological response that happens in the body when a person’s face enters water. A flip of the switch triggers a variety of reflexes in the brain, lungs, and heart. In other words, that crazy buzz you get when you dive in is backed by science.
6. The First Wave. The first ride cracks everything open, no matter how many waves you’ve ridden that week, month, lifetime. That first trip down the slide lodges itself in your psyche and makes you see and feel the world differently .
7. The Glide. At the core of it, nothing else matters. Only surfers know the feeling when you’re suddenly delivered somewhere different from where you started by a rolling mass of water: magic. When you lose the feeling, you crave it like an addict.
8. The Speed. It doesn’t matter if the wave is mushy or breakneck — you’re moving forward now, leaving all thought behind as you barrel into the future, even though part of you wishes you could stop time and hang there, suspended between past and future.
9. The Escape of doing something admittedly childlike that many of us take way too seriously. Surfing throws simple, euphoric joy and complex adult addiction into a blender on high, and that’s where “Tasty Waves” come from. Seriously.
10. The Optimism. The next time, you’ll land it. There’s always next time, always another swell coming, another break, another chance to pop-up and speed down the line towards enlightenment — or reef rash.
11. The Humbling. How every time you feel like you’re on fire and the board is a part of you, the sea rolls you under and tells you who’s in charge.
12. The Detachment. No phone, Netflix, email, Instagram. Quiet introspection during lulls, ferocious crashing on the inside, the call of the gulls and flapping of pelican wings, the hiss of the wind. Enough said.
13. The Camaraderie. Walking down the beach to paddle out, there’s that knowing glance from the guy or girl headed back the other way. Last week a guy stopped me as I headed out and said, “Some fun ones out there! Stay inside, stay inside!” He was right, I did, and thanks for the tip and the good vibes!
14. The Competition. The inherent pushing and angling for waves keeps us sweating and strategizing. Keeps us going.
15. The Kookiness. Have you ever listened to surfers’ conversations from an outsider’s angle? And what about our acute obsession with water toys, the way we analyze and compare them as if our lives depend on fin placement, dims, concave and volume?
16. The Creative Breakthrough of styling out a move you’ve never landed before, maybe never seen before, never invented before. It could be as simple as a floater or as complex as a rodeo — it doesn’t matter.
17. The Falling. The endless, chaotic, beautiful falling that reminds us we’re humans and, sadly, not dolphins. That never gets old, it’s never the same, sometimes it’s painful, and it’s always worth it.
18. The Saltwater. Good for your skin, broken hearts, bruised ribs, a thirsty soul and everything else that ails you.
19. The Return. The triumphant first surf back after a break, no matter how short or long. Here I go. Hold my calls, don’t wait up and don’t worry, I’ll bring home tacos.
20. The Post-Surf Glow. If you know, you know.
