180

It's easy to fall out of things. It's easy to just settle in to work, spend your free time dicking off, and to find excuses for the things you've let fall to the wayside, whether it's finding ways to use your creativity, surf, workout, and be a better human being for yourself and those around you.

I convinced myself that where I've landed myself was enough, nothing to prove to anyone. So long as I'm happy and the wife is happy, there was no need to answer to anyone else.

But seeing posts about what everyone else is doing makes me feel like I'm short changing myself. I'm not trying to live to anyone else's standards, but I know that deep inside I can do more, like how I used to do more. Instead of listing them, I'll end with this... I've procrastinated long enough on a lot of things. The fact that I've opened up this blog page for the first time in months and even wrote something down, that's a damn good start for me. I'm hoping this continues. Behind the scenes, I need to get back on track.

My best friend, who's a sober drunk, used to tell me about "taking away from yourself," I took the lecture as contributing your time to things that don't better yourself, even worse, doing things that empty the pot or hollow you out. I guess I feel a little hollow.

Let the 180 begin.

2017 – #16 TUE21FEB

            I messed up by requesting too much overtime last week at work, not thinking that they’d approve it. I didn’t take into account that when it rains, a lot of people call in sick. For a week straight I had to see my friends post record breaking stats on their Traces, knowing that local surf was fun and rippable while I was stuck at work. After pulling a 10 hour shift on Monday, I was determined to paddle out on Tuesday.

            Passing Dockweiler, I could see that there were waves. The Chevron Tanks looked a little walled. I pulled into 45^th Street in the midst of a light rain. There were waves, indeed, but they weren’t peaky. They were coming in a little walled, or the shoulders were just saddles that led into another oncoming wave. Either way, it looked worthy enough, surf starved as I was.

            I pushed it a little more south just to see what 26^th Street looked like. The surf was a tad smaller and, quality wise, not much better. However, there was free parking, so that was just too hard to pass up.

            Paddling out at 1030, only a small thimble full of the usual locals were there. Two whose names I don’t know and the legend Don Kadowaki. The storm drain had some runoff creeping towards the ocean, but hadn’t quite reached it yet. I thought about all the sharps that could be embedded in the sand and the nasty bacteria floating around in the water, but there was no passing on this session.

            The water was cold as I had expected, but a few duckdives later and I was used to it. I paddled a smudge north to escape the few heads that were there, and within a minute a big rolling right came my way. My board felt leafy, just too small for all the water moving around, but as I turned to scratch and kick, it was like my board stopped and slowly gained momentum just in time for the wave to pick me up. The drop itself was fun, although sketchy, and the feeling of maintaining my balance down the face felt victory enough.

            I just didn’t want to blow it. Not surfing in nine days does make a difference. My board felt awkward, the quads a little to fast and loose. I managed my first backhand snap and carefully transitioned into a cutback with still some open face left for another hit. After the second snap, I hit the eject button before the wave closed out and cannon balled into the safety zone just behind it.

            It wasn’t a session when I scored wave after wave. In fact, that was my best wave of an otherwise uneventful session, but paddling back to the lineup and getting the smiling nod of approval from Don and a few of the other gents there made being out there worthy enough.

2017 – #15 SUN12FEB

            So now two more people I know have a Surf Trace. Good thing about that is I can check their stats to get an idea of how the surf is. Manny and Rick both scored turns at 45^th. Actually, Brett Simpson was surfing out there, according to them, so if it’s good enough for a pro…

            Klaude called me right when I got home from work, said he had slept in late, so he was gonna hit it. On the way to the surf, he called again and said there were waves everywhere, except 26^th St.; something about those sandbars over there that’s not working.

            Bri and I parked in the Porto lot and walked to Rosecrans. Sadly, there was so much trash in the lineup: candy wrappers, straws, plastic, and plastic bags. Not big pieces, but there were a lot of tiny plastic things just floating everywhere, and every time a wave stood up, you could just see the trash lifting up with it, weaved into an aquatic curtain.

            Despite the high tide, the paddle out was a little far, and waves were breaking way on the outside. Typical of the tide, a lot of the rides started off fast and bogged out on the inside. We all scored a few waves, but really, the trash was just so nasty. Every duckdive all I could think about was how my sinuses were getting contaminated. My eyes burned a little more than usual.

            After the sesh, I didn’t really have any solid turns to claim. If anything, the surf was a game of just making sections and trying to stay in the pocket, a lot of stop and go without a good face to unleash a solid carve on.

            But the day was beautiful. Bri and I walked down to 26^th on The Strand to enjoy the atmosphere. Manhattan Beach was just as crowded and active as an amusement park without the lines, the ocean as the main attraction. It was like a spring day, and yet, we’re expecting another storm come Friday.