Here's a phrase that the we've all learned to live by, "Easier said than done." And what really puts the cherry on top is that every bit of this expression holds true. Especially when it's applied to surfing. I'm generally one of those people who stands on the sidelines, watching someone struggle both mentally and physically to attain a goal after having made sacrifices galore and committing countless hours to training, and says "I could do that." Well, Saturday seemed like a good day to put my money where my mouth was and I did just that when I picked up a surf board.
It all looks so Hollywood-esque as you watch from the comfort of the shore. The surfer jogging in slow motion down the beach, his golden locks swaying in the wind behind him as he nonchalantly packs his board under one arm. His expression is inviting, and his pearly whites glisten as he looks out at the water. Effortless are his movements as he enters the water, and the swift winds from the shore carry him out to the middle of the Sea. From your binoculars you can see how subtle the waves are that he encounters; he jumps over each one like a game of hop scotch. But now he turns, facing you with his chiselled abs in plain sight. With no one else but you in his line of sight he shoots you a quick wink and you blush because you know it's what you are supposed to do, what you're expected to do. As per normal, the perfect wave will rise when summoned, not asking for much, but a companion. And the surfer, alone on the water, will comply. With ease and no hesitation, he catches the wave, his balance having never been an issue. He rides the steady wave and stands at exactly the right moment, never having wavered from his center of gravity. It's all so perfect as you watch in awe as he slides through the wave's newly formed tube. A perfect portal, you think. A portal made just for him. As he nears the shore, he finishes his performance with a sleak swan dive, and breaks the plain of the calm water to find you suprisingly, still absorbed by his little show. Slowly he treads through the knee deep water, shaking his hair dry in the newly discovered breeze. Just as you notice the shade of scarlet that has befallen his expression, he reaches into the water at what looks like his swim trunks. SNAP!
Back to reality.
I stand at the water's edge ready to make my mark when I notice the uncomfortable burden that rests under my arm. Oh ya, awkwardly placed against my side is my borrowed surf board, its weight enough to smother me if it were to fall. As I trudge through the water, I'm bombarded with wave after wave, and still in the same spot I began. So I take a running start, trip on the umbilical cord that connects me to the board, and fall flat on my face. Round three, as the wave retreats I make my move, running in the most uncoordinated fashion I could mend, but making progress non the less. Finally! I clumsily jump onto the board, like mounting a horse right? Wrong. P.S. I haven't ridden a horse since I was ten. So after struggling for some time, I am granted permission to ride the board. I paddle, and I paddle, and I paddle, and I sweat, and I stop because I can't lift my arms anymore. As I sit on my board, like I've seen done in movies, countless waves topple over me, punishing me for thinking all of this a walk in the park. By this time my hair is plastered to my face, I've consumed my sodium intake for the week, and my leg, for some reason, burns. So I throw all of my complaints out to sea (no pun intended) and spin around, ready to get this over with. It's then that I notice the gash on the side of my leg, most likely caused during my wrestly with the waves. Meh, a little blood never hurt anyone, right? Just as I let my thoughts twist into grotesque shark nightmares, I notice the growing swell behind me. Without hesitation, I do what they do on the movies, I paddle until it hurts. And like a plane taking flight I could feel myself being taken away by the water. Slowly, I was able to keep my composure on my knees, and ever so gently I took the plunge and jumped up onto my feet. It was euphoric and exhilerating to have the power of the wave below me. After the wave had disapated, and it was all over, I looked around, ready to express the liberation that was escaping my body. I was yanked down from my high and slapped sober when the sounds of the ocean remained uninterupted. There were no cheers or kind words of congratulations from fans who had been watching. In fact, there was no one there at all. Families continued to converse, couple remained entranced, and I, I was disappointed. Through my struggles I learned the value of perseverance. And through my solidarity, I proved myself to the one person that truly mattered. I talked the talk, and I sure as hell walked the walk... even if no one else knows it.
It all looks so Hollywood-esque as you watch from the comfort of the shore. The surfer jogging in slow motion down the beach, his golden locks swaying in the wind behind him as he nonchalantly packs his board under one arm. His expression is inviting, and his pearly whites glisten as he looks out at the water. Effortless are his movements as he enters the water, and the swift winds from the shore carry him out to the middle of the Sea. From your binoculars you can see how subtle the waves are that he encounters; he jumps over each one like a game of hop scotch. But now he turns, facing you with his chiselled abs in plain sight. With no one else but you in his line of sight he shoots you a quick wink and you blush because you know it's what you are supposed to do, what you're expected to do. As per normal, the perfect wave will rise when summoned, not asking for much, but a companion. And the surfer, alone on the water, will comply. With ease and no hesitation, he catches the wave, his balance having never been an issue. He rides the steady wave and stands at exactly the right moment, never having wavered from his center of gravity. It's all so perfect as you watch in awe as he slides through the wave's newly formed tube. A perfect portal, you think. A portal made just for him. As he nears the shore, he finishes his performance with a sleak swan dive, and breaks the plain of the calm water to find you suprisingly, still absorbed by his little show. Slowly he treads through the knee deep water, shaking his hair dry in the newly discovered breeze. Just as you notice the shade of scarlet that has befallen his expression, he reaches into the water at what looks like his swim trunks. SNAP!
Back to reality.
I stand at the water's edge ready to make my mark when I notice the uncomfortable burden that rests under my arm. Oh ya, awkwardly placed against my side is my borrowed surf board, its weight enough to smother me if it were to fall. As I trudge through the water, I'm bombarded with wave after wave, and still in the same spot I began. So I take a running start, trip on the umbilical cord that connects me to the board, and fall flat on my face. Round three, as the wave retreats I make my move, running in the most uncoordinated fashion I could mend, but making progress non the less. Finally! I clumsily jump onto the board, like mounting a horse right? Wrong. P.S. I haven't ridden a horse since I was ten. So after struggling for some time, I am granted permission to ride the board. I paddle, and I paddle, and I paddle, and I sweat, and I stop because I can't lift my arms anymore. As I sit on my board, like I've seen done in movies, countless waves topple over me, punishing me for thinking all of this a walk in the park. By this time my hair is plastered to my face, I've consumed my sodium intake for the week, and my leg, for some reason, burns. So I throw all of my complaints out to sea (no pun intended) and spin around, ready to get this over with. It's then that I notice the gash on the side of my leg, most likely caused during my wrestly with the waves. Meh, a little blood never hurt anyone, right? Just as I let my thoughts twist into grotesque shark nightmares, I notice the growing swell behind me. Without hesitation, I do what they do on the movies, I paddle until it hurts. And like a plane taking flight I could feel myself being taken away by the water. Slowly, I was able to keep my composure on my knees, and ever so gently I took the plunge and jumped up onto my feet. It was euphoric and exhilerating to have the power of the wave below me. After the wave had disapated, and it was all over, I looked around, ready to express the liberation that was escaping my body. I was yanked down from my high and slapped sober when the sounds of the ocean remained uninterupted. There were no cheers or kind words of congratulations from fans who had been watching. In fact, there was no one there at all. Families continued to converse, couple remained entranced, and I, I was disappointed. Through my struggles I learned the value of perseverance. And through my solidarity, I proved myself to the one person that truly mattered. I talked the talk, and I sure as hell walked the walk... even if no one else knows it.
No comments:
Post a Comment