I just read this really well written article about surfing, and sucking, and sucking at surfing, and it's like someone who is a much better writer than I could ever be summed up my attitude and ability when it comes to all things surfing.
I'm a vacation surfer. I get out once or twice a year, fortunate to be part of a family who loves warm water and climates, especially after a Seattle winter. What that means:
I "read" waves the way that a 2 year old "reads" his favorite books, meaning I can't read them at all. but can repeat what others tell me after they tell it to me, a lot. Most of what I understand about any break has been repeated to me by other surfers between sets. They can accurately and intimately talk about the channels, faces, pitches, wind, underwater reef and rocks, and other key variables that make the character of the break. I listen closely to the minute detail they are providing ('look at the way that water flattens out on top of that submerged rock, it gets real shallow at that point, either ride down the face around it or kick out before it') and try to associate sentences to locations, instead of seeing and deducing the evidence in the water all around me. As a result of this incomplete understanding, I usually end up blundering into whatever section they're telling me to avoid at least once (Hello, submerged rock! Good thing you were covered in kelp to soften the blow!)
My tone-deafness extends from reading waves to catching them. I can't read the feel and pitch of a wave well enough to know when to take off straight or angle in the direction of the break. So a lot of my efforts end up with me either pearling into the ramp or sliding off the back.
When I do make the wave, my popups suck, especially when I'm tired. I can't read the wave good enough to get up with minimal effort, so when I'm not tired I 'brute force' my way into the wave, paddle too long, and miss the best part - the critical section of the wave where all acceleration and set up for going down the line really happens. When I am tired, my 'stagger to my feet' method of getting up means I'm way too slow and end up trying to get to my feet when the board is racing and bumping in front of the actual wave, as opposed to gracefully springing up in the smoothest part of the wave right before it breaks. Pop ups are my crux right now. I'm obsessed with them, even though the next time I'll get a chance to surf is in August.
Basically I'm a total dork out there. I do have reasonable manners, and can get out of the way just fine, but I'm not that guy that can spot the wave, set up, take 3 hard strokes, bounce to his feet, and then dance across the face. I am scared to actually see how I surf. My wave riding is honed by 20 years of muscle memory from snowboarding, so I power my back foot and hold my arms out wide, elbows high. I'm pretty sure I look like an ape.
However.
When I do stand up, the feeling I get is the closest a non spiritual, data driven geek like me can get to God, or whatever powers the universe. If I were more spiritual I'd know more about whatever that is, but spiritually speaking, I'm the village idiot, so all I've got are images and sound and feeling. Images of my board moving across the face, racing the whitewater and the sound of the wave, like ripping velcro. The feeling of the board underneath my feet as I pump and lean and adjust. And being suspended in a moment that lasted until I kicked out or fell off (option 2 - much more likely).
I'm still experiencing happy flashbacks from our our last trip to Punta de Mita. In that trip we stayed in a very low key, very nice surfer oriented apartment, where the proprietor took anyone interested to where the waves were breaking. I lucked out and one of his favorite breaks had a really nice left. Since most people are regular footed and I'm goofy, I tend to get more lefts because there are more to be had. On a left breaking wave I face the wave and can see where to go as I move across it. With that extra vision I was able to point and ride along the face, pumping up and down the wave with slow, sweeping, longboard turns. I'd let the board run out on the face, then gently guide it back into the whitewater. The left was long, really long, and I was able to get the hang of moving across the wave instead of just rocketing towards the shore. This particular break also had really long rights, which gave me the time to get the sensation and apply it to them after I'd mastered it on the lefts.
Just those small improvements- finally being able to travel up and down the face, moving down the line, understanding what was going on with the wave and working with it - made the vacation. In those moments everything suspended. All I had was the board and the wave and the feel of the sun and wind on my body. I got out 6 days in a row, twice a day, and chased that fleeting sensation until my shoulders felt like they were going to fall off.
My one qualm about vacation surfing is this: I'm in a race, one I'm going to lose, with age. I can definitely feel it now at 48. I only have so many more years of surfing in me, and at 1-2x/year there is a limited amount that I can improve.
And to keep showing up I need to stay relatively fit. There is no training for surfing (even paddle boarding doesn't transfer particularly well), but being fit enough to go at it 2x/day, a couple of hours per session, has required significant lifestyle changes, including running, paddling, cycling, weights, and (goddamnit) diet.
This is, I suppose, a reasonable price to pay, with decent side effects, like being physically fit. Every once in a while I fantasize about creating a lifestyle that allows me to live in warmer climes with good surf. But then I'd miss the other parts of my life - the snowboarding, the skate skiing, the road and mountain biking, and even the work, which right now requires that I am available in the office instead of telecommuting.
Thinking back on the article, and on this latest vacation, I believe that surfing for me is and will always be about being a beginner - and taking any progress as great progress. Sucking so badly at surfing means I lower my expectations, and from that comes a correlated rise in enjoyment. It's something I try to bring to everything else I do - that degree of openness and feeling can only be good.
I'm a vacation surfer. I get out once or twice a year, fortunate to be part of a family who loves warm water and climates, especially after a Seattle winter. What that means:
I "read" waves the way that a 2 year old "reads" his favorite books, meaning I can't read them at all. but can repeat what others tell me after they tell it to me, a lot. Most of what I understand about any break has been repeated to me by other surfers between sets. They can accurately and intimately talk about the channels, faces, pitches, wind, underwater reef and rocks, and other key variables that make the character of the break. I listen closely to the minute detail they are providing ('look at the way that water flattens out on top of that submerged rock, it gets real shallow at that point, either ride down the face around it or kick out before it') and try to associate sentences to locations, instead of seeing and deducing the evidence in the water all around me. As a result of this incomplete understanding, I usually end up blundering into whatever section they're telling me to avoid at least once (Hello, submerged rock! Good thing you were covered in kelp to soften the blow!)
My tone-deafness extends from reading waves to catching them. I can't read the feel and pitch of a wave well enough to know when to take off straight or angle in the direction of the break. So a lot of my efforts end up with me either pearling into the ramp or sliding off the back.
Basically I'm a total dork out there. I do have reasonable manners, and can get out of the way just fine, but I'm not that guy that can spot the wave, set up, take 3 hard strokes, bounce to his feet, and then dance across the face. I am scared to actually see how I surf. My wave riding is honed by 20 years of muscle memory from snowboarding, so I power my back foot and hold my arms out wide, elbows high. I'm pretty sure I look like an ape.
However.
When I do stand up, the feeling I get is the closest a non spiritual, data driven geek like me can get to God, or whatever powers the universe. If I were more spiritual I'd know more about whatever that is, but spiritually speaking, I'm the village idiot, so all I've got are images and sound and feeling. Images of my board moving across the face, racing the whitewater and the sound of the wave, like ripping velcro. The feeling of the board underneath my feet as I pump and lean and adjust. And being suspended in a moment that lasted until I kicked out or fell off (option 2 - much more likely).
I'm still experiencing happy flashbacks from our our last trip to Punta de Mita. In that trip we stayed in a very low key, very nice surfer oriented apartment, where the proprietor took anyone interested to where the waves were breaking. I lucked out and one of his favorite breaks had a really nice left. Since most people are regular footed and I'm goofy, I tend to get more lefts because there are more to be had. On a left breaking wave I face the wave and can see where to go as I move across it. With that extra vision I was able to point and ride along the face, pumping up and down the wave with slow, sweeping, longboard turns. I'd let the board run out on the face, then gently guide it back into the whitewater. The left was long, really long, and I was able to get the hang of moving across the wave instead of just rocketing towards the shore. This particular break also had really long rights, which gave me the time to get the sensation and apply it to them after I'd mastered it on the lefts.
Just those small improvements- finally being able to travel up and down the face, moving down the line, understanding what was going on with the wave and working with it - made the vacation. In those moments everything suspended. All I had was the board and the wave and the feel of the sun and wind on my body. I got out 6 days in a row, twice a day, and chased that fleeting sensation until my shoulders felt like they were going to fall off.
My one qualm about vacation surfing is this: I'm in a race, one I'm going to lose, with age. I can definitely feel it now at 48. I only have so many more years of surfing in me, and at 1-2x/year there is a limited amount that I can improve.
And to keep showing up I need to stay relatively fit. There is no training for surfing (even paddle boarding doesn't transfer particularly well), but being fit enough to go at it 2x/day, a couple of hours per session, has required significant lifestyle changes, including running, paddling, cycling, weights, and (goddamnit) diet.
This is, I suppose, a reasonable price to pay, with decent side effects, like being physically fit. Every once in a while I fantasize about creating a lifestyle that allows me to live in warmer climes with good surf. But then I'd miss the other parts of my life - the snowboarding, the skate skiing, the road and mountain biking, and even the work, which right now requires that I am available in the office instead of telecommuting.
Thinking back on the article, and on this latest vacation, I believe that surfing for me is and will always be about being a beginner - and taking any progress as great progress. Sucking so badly at surfing means I lower my expectations, and from that comes a correlated rise in enjoyment. It's something I try to bring to everything else I do - that degree of openness and feeling can only be good.
