MELLOW MONDAYS, MON 29AUG2011 MOR

Crew: Bionic J
Time: 0645-0800
Conditions: 2-3 ft., glassy, sunny, hot, walled with a few corners.



    Last night I planned on resting today, but J hit me up and said he’d be at Porto. I haven’t surfed Porto in a while nor seen J in a while for that matter. I have to.
  
    I’m not in surfer condition anymore. This third day in a row of waking up early isn’t so easy. I wake up to J’s text around 0615. I can’t be late. There’s no breakfast and no brushing my teeth. I grab the few supplies I need and head out the door. The sun’s out, and I spot J’s car before the bathrooms. He’s suited up, so I just tell him I’ll meet him in the water. I warm up for a couple minutes then paddle out. My body’s tired, but the sun over the horizon fills me with a sense of calm. In fact, the line up is the emptiest it’s been over the last three days. I forgot how mellow the Monday morning crowds are, especially with school back in session too. There’s actually room, silence, and peace. J and I catch up. I’m sorry to hear that his grandmother passed away during his weekend trip to San Fran. He’s a busy guy always on the move. Next weekend he’s going to Baja, and at the end of the month I’m trying to tag along when he goes again. Instead of conversing, I spend a lot of time just looking around. That moment of being overwhelmed that I talked about on Saturday, it didn’t happen then, but the morning is so inviting on this Monday. I’m blinded by the sun’s golden rays every time I face the shore. It’s warm. Seagulls pass over the smooth ocean surface. I can make out little trees and buildings in the foreground of the Santa Monica mountains. Enjoying the moment, I let go of everything. Nothing preoccupies my mind. For the first time in weeks I can just exist.

    With a weaker paddle, I’m more selective about when to punch it. I even kick harder with my feet to give me that extra push. I only use one arm during lulls to paddle back. I get a good left where my speed is the same as the wave’s. I top turn and redirect before the ride fizzles out. It’s hard not to feel good about that, even though it’s barely a three foot bump. J can’t believe how beautiful the morning is either. “I could just catch the 8:15,” he says. He goes back and forth debating on paddling in or catching a later bus. “I need to go.” He gets his last wave and leaves me at 0745.

    I get a wall of a right hander, but the face stays open before it bites. I turn off the lip as it’s coming down and stick the landing. Back at the lineup, a stranger says to me, “That was a good one.”

    “Yeah, good for one turn!” I met a guy named Chad Sayers in Bali while surfing a spot called Balangan. He told me that he was happy with his surfing, that he didn’t need to push himself. My brother told me that that was rare. With my current handicap, I’ve been trying to have that same attitude. I’ve spent the greater part of this year pushing my surfing, and it’s not a bad thing. But for now, especially given my situation, it feels good to hit the cruise button and just have fun catching waves. I can give some rides up, share, hoot other people on their waves, and be grateful every time I have one for myself.

    Leaving the ocean, I stare at the brightly lit sand from the morning sun. The day’s still fresh, and I’m never done this early. I spot a piece of kelp on the shore. It’s small, shiny, and slimy. It’s greenish yellow and I can’t stop staring at this thing as if it’s one of nature’s captivating wonders. Damn, I’m just so happy at this moment. Something as little as this means so much. I can’t believe how much surfing has an impact on my life.