I'm Still Happy
I am so over this overcast, windy, and small wave thing we've got going right now at the beaches. I stubbornly refuse to put the fullsuit in my car. I hate fullsuits with a passion. I'm not going to wear one in July. I wore that thing all winter and felt like the damn Michelin man in it. I may be cold now, but at least I can move my arms and shoulders freely.
I'm still excited about that cheater five. It feels as though a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I'd been wondering, for months, how I could call myself a longboarder when I couldn't really do anything on a longboard except take a few steps here and there. I kept trying to get to the nose, but the confidence wasn't there. CYT and I agreed that there's fear there. When you start heading to the nose, all of your confidence flees as you start thinking you weigh about 300 pounds and that there's no way your board can support you. When I looked at the nose of my board right before I did the cheater five, for the first time, I knew the board would support me. Thus, my confidence stayed with me. It may be weeks before I'm able to do another one, but now I know I have done it and can do it again. You know, of course, I'd romantically envisioned this happening at some place like San O or Malibu. I never imagined I would do a cheater five at our shitty little beach break.
I surfed yesterday. Let's just say I was underwhelmed by the conditions (see the first sentence in this post). I didn't even want to get in the water today. So I got back on the bike. As usual, I was almost mowed down by an approaching driver who was either too blind or too irritated by my presence on the road to acknowledge my presence on the road. Here's a quick recap: Surfsister rides north. Car approaches going south. Surfsister sees the first car, going south, turn into the driveway that is on on Surfsister's right. No problem. That car had room, she thinks. Surfsister tries to make eye contact with the next car, going south, that's waiting to turn into the driveway. Driver (who is in a Mercedes) apparently waits until Surfsister is about 100 yards from the driveway. Driver turns left, right in front of Surfsister, and slowly pulls into the driveway. Surfsister grabs the brakes, stares at the driver, and then abruptly stops (and that's not easy to do on a bike). Driver happily goes on her merry way. Surfsister then remembers why she gave up cycling for surfing.