Surf's Up?

Evening surf
Originally uploaded by michellechang

He tells me to use my arms. I say 'Ok.' He yells out to paddle faster. I try. He screams, 'Go, go, go!' I look behind my shoulder, mouth wide open, with an expression like a maniac butcher is running after me with his bloody knife. I use my arms. I try to paddle fast. But it's too late. I'm swept up in a whirlwind, blind to protect my contacts and deaf except to the violent swirl around me. One somersault and three gulps of salt water later, I'm trying to regain my bearings of ocean versus beach. And I see Adam, riding and waving at me as he surfs the wave that crashed over my not-fast-enough arms and me.

Now multiply this about ten times, and that's how often I've had to live through such agony. "You should surf! It'd be hot!" says my secretly finned, athletic-male-version-of Darryl Hannah boyfriend. Honestly, that is the least of my ambitions. Snorting up salt water and then standing in a puddle of it the next day where it has just decided to release itself from my nostrils is not hot. Thus, I stick to my land sports where vision is clear and oxygen is plentiful.

Speed is my friend and scenery is beauty. When I run, the wind blows and my mind floats free. The sweat drips without shame and geographic orientation is not a concern. When I bike, I smell the curry cooking in a kitchen and the sweetness of almonds on a tree.

It may be obvious that perhaps surfing simply requires more skill. I don't disagree with that; among surfers I know, it does take obstinate and invested disciplined training to ride waves consistently. But am I going to take the dive and do it?

I can't help but relish in the cloudless day when a dozen or so wave-seeking riders are just sitting on their boards, in a seemingly calming ocean. No wonder they say surfers are a chill kind of people. I glance around, and everyone is just looking straight ahead towards the horizon -- hoping, wishing, praying for a good one.

And, well, it is fun. And not many things can beat having fun. By consecutive day three in San Diego, I'm atop the boat of a long board I have, riding waves - if not just for a few precious seconds at a time. I delight in myself, talking to myself, saying "Go, go, go!" and "Wooohoooo!" as I prop myself up on the board and take flight. This is really fun...and...I'm talking to myself. I think I'm beginning to see where I can catch the right wave for me -- all the while trying to paddle just a little faster, for now.

I think I can get used to this and vacation away from land now and again...