Hello, Old Friend

I didn't think about this movie I saw yesterday

I rode my 5'4" Firewire Spitfire this morning for the first time in about 6 weeks. It was like slipping my foot into a comfortable old shoe just found at the back of the closet. Or hugging a dear friend I hadn't seen in a long time. After several days of being pushed and dragged around by my floaty 6'2" in windswell waves that caught it up even when I ditched, it was wonderful to be back on my lightweight and sinkable shortboard. And the waves? I got three solid rides - stoked!

The water was clear, enough to see a stingray swim across my path as I shuffled into the water. It was the first I've seen in Pacific Beach, and made me extra leery of touching a foot down at the end of a ride.

Sometimes I tend to think my struggles are all my own, so it was nice when another shortboarder shared his experience this morning. My second wave was a right that took me near the pier, and it seemed the waist- to chest-high waves wouldn't stop coming as I paddled back out to the lineup. I barely had time to catch a breath between some of them, and a couple seemed to aim right for me so they could break in my face. I stroked hard when I wasn't trying to duck dive and made it to quiet water, sitting up alongside him. "It's rough in there," he said. "I took a right into that pool and it took me 10 minutes to get back out!" I thought myself lucky that it had taken me half that long. After I paddled for another wave that passed on by, he continued, "These waves are hard to get into." Yeah, dude, my thoughts exactly.