The human heart was—and remains—a mystery to me. But I’m learning. I have to. —Anthony Bourdain

A board+a wave=happiness

I went surfing last weekend after it seems like a decade (it was a few years ago) and I wanted to kick myself for taking such a long time to go back to the board.

See, calling me athletic would be a stretch. Even if i do have the gait of a linebacker, I have no sport to call my own. I have not been part of a team since highschool, volleyball was a girl’s only option and even then I wasn’t exactly stellar at spiking, in fact i didn’t know how. The fact that my team became Intramurals champion two years in a row only proved one thing, that i had spectacular teammates.

Not that I hate sports. I like basketball, but only pickup games. Badminton’s fun too. Even volleyball once in a while. Truth be told it’s more laziness that stops me from really getting into a sport.

But I digress.

Surfing, I’ve loved since I first got up on a board. True there was an instructor following my every move, picking out the wave, pushing my board so I can catch it, but hell yeah, the first time I stood up was a hell of a rush that I couldn’t wait to paddle out so I could try it again. Waiting for that crest, heart pounding in my chest every time coz I’m not sure I was gonna be standing up, was a high I wanted like a drug. I must’ve annoyed that instructor at my eagerness and pep, but hey, I was addicted.

Sure, my nose got shot up with water each time I wiped out. I collided with other people since I couldn’t exactly steer. I almost got hit in the head a couple of times with the board. When we got to our room I could barely move my arms from paddling.

It was worth it. That serene feeling of almost gliding to shore, it’s incomparable.

So it was with an extreme case of butterflies when we headed to get our first hour of surf lessons. I had a pounding headache, and it was raining, but hey, we figured, bigger better waves right?

Wrong. Waves were few and far between, and my headache got worse when I found out I had lost my (only pair of) footwear on the shore.

(I’m going to miss those flipflops, they’ve been with me a couple years, and to a LOT of mini adventures)

But hell, after the first few wipeouts, I was getting my sea legs back and balancing on the surfboard I thought I was too fat for. I started grinning.  The feeling was back. All worries, annoyances, little heartbreaks, crazy thoughts, gone. It was just me and the board (True, I was still being pushed by the instructor to catch the wave, but it was on my own on each wave after that), racing to shore.

By the second hour of lessons the next day, even with little sleep, i was walling. (Instead of going straight, going to the side for a longer ride) The instructor was even teaching me to pick waves on my own and teaching me the right paddling techniques to catch it.

Next time (which is hopefully soon) I’m gonna surf on my own. Look out world!

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