Surf\u2019s up and I went down, over and over again.<\/p>\n
But boy was it fun. I think I\u2019ve found a sport where even taking a spill is enjoyable. (I face-planted so many waves, my nose is crumpled up.)
\n
\nI was one of those kids in college who spent far too much time studying to ever take to the waves. Ahh, who am I kidding? I have the coordination of a three-legged yak and the surgeon general has expressly warned on packages of cigarettes that I should never try surfing. So I didn\u2019t, not once in the all the time I\u2019ve been in St. Augustine.<\/p>\n
But this past weekend, Flagler College alumni who know how to surf got together to teach non-surfing alums how to ride waves. And it was awesome. (Why did I study?)<\/p>\n
Let\u2019s not fool ourselves: surfing is a dangerous sport when you\u2019re someone as accident-prone as me. Plus, you have to worry about drowning, being sucked out to the Bahamas, being gnawed on by a shark or a sea crab, and having all of your body hair ripped out by the wax you rub on the board. <\/p>\n
But I tell you, I\u2019m hooked. I\u2019m no good, but I\u2019m hooked. I drank a whole lot of water (my sodium intake is good through 2024), but it was a total rush. I\u2019m even contemplating buying a board so I can continue to humiliate myself in front of surfers who actually know what they\u2019re doing. <\/p>\n
\u201cDo you surf?\u201d someone will ask as I march down to the sea with my stick.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, mainly I fall off,\u201d I will reply. <\/p>\n
Longest ride on Saturday: .0625 seconds. A new record!<\/p>\n
Commonly heard on the beach was this: \u201cThat dude\u2019s combining surfing with ballet. Rad!\u201d<\/p>\n
My instructor, Linda O\u2019Rourke, was phenomenal \u2014 maybe the best. Why so good? Partly her patience, and it takes a lot of it to deal with a guy who retains maybe 2 percent of what he\u2019s told. And partly because she said things like, \u201cBrian, you look tired. Let me paddle this board out for you and then you can hop on.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cReally?\u201d I said. \u201cCool! I\u2019ll be up on the beach having coffee. You just give me a little wave when you\u2019re ready.\u201d<\/p>\n
Poor Linda, though. Not only was she battered by the rough waves, but she also spent the day behind my flailing feet, which spun the whole time like propellers. She must have lost three teeth back there, and for that I apologize. <\/p>\n
But it was a lot like being a kid again. And people talked to me like a little kid: \u201cBrian, you\u2019re not going back out without sunscreen.\u201d \u201cBrian, you tie your shorts tighter this time. The moon shouldn\u2019t ever come out at 10 a.m.\u201d \u201cBrian, don\u2019t pet the shark unless you want to draw back a bloody stump.\u201d Just like childhood.<\/p>\n
Then they tie you to the board with a leash. Huh? Now I\u2019m a dog?<\/p>\n
There was all kinds of terminology I didn\u2019t understand. Goofy foot? That\u2019s when you plant your left foot back on the surfboard. <\/p>\n
Sex wax? That\u2019s what you rub on your board so you can grip it with your feet. Oh!<\/p>\n
Stick. Stoked. Soup. Pearl. Worked. Line-up. Duck diving. Chop. Break. Corking. Medic! (Well, that\u2019s the same as in the real world.)<\/p>\n
I went to flash the surfing hand signal for \u201chang loose,\u201d except I raised an extra finger, which told everyone \u201cI go with the devil.\u201d (The surfing signal, I learned, is pinky out with thumb up, also useful for hitchhiking with a broken little finger.) <\/p>\n
What a day. What a sport. I\u2019m hooked, and now you\u2019ll have to excuse me from my studies so I can go hit the waves. Cowabunga, dude \u2026 and maybe if you see me, just give me a couple hundred yards clearance for your own safety.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Surf\u2019s up and I went down, over and over again. But boy was it fun. I think I\u2019ve found a sport where even taking a spill is enjoyable. (I face-planted so many waves, my nose is crumpled up.)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-24","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-2"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=24"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=24"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=24"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=24"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}