Living on the Razor's Edge!

That's right! That's me! I love to push the limits, look death in the face, and laugh. Now really, people!!! Does that sound like me? No. But that's what I was doing today during the session. Why? How? What do you mean? I mean I FORGOT MY DAMN LEASH AND IT'S NOT LIKE IT WAS 1 TO 2 FEET OUT THERE. THOSE WAVES HAD FACES, FACES THAT WERE SOMETIMES TALLER THAN I AM. At one point, I looked at CYT and said, "I ain't goin' for that wave. I ain't got no leash!!!!"

Let's go back to the beginning. We met at our appointed time. We packed the car. We drove to the Breakwater. When we went to check for waves, we saw that the price for parking in the lot was astoundingly low. I've never seen it that cheap before. So we parked in the lot. Cool!! We're thinking good thoughts. We're feeling the positive karma. And then things fell apart. First, I discovered that I'd somehow arrived at the beach without a leash. I was so dismayed that I ran up to a guy in the lot and asked if he had an extra leash (since he was going leashless on his beautiful Tyler). Do you know of any other sport where you can ask a complete stranger for something—or offer a complete stranger something—and know that nine times out of ten that person will loan it to you? Anyway, he didn't have one and spent a little time talking me down off the ledge, assuring me I'd be okay without my leash and telling me this would be good practice. His words helped and I decided to at least give it a try. Then, we discovered that CYT had no wax whatsoever and I only had a sliver of wax. I put my wax in the places where I'd need it the most and she stole the wax that same guy had left on his bumper. (Note to self: Pay his good deed forward and leave wax on your bumper next time you get wet.)

All in all, it was a session I'm proud off. I swam on three occasions. On the first one, I paddled for a wave that jacked up and tossed me. I remember seeing the board twirling in mid-air. Then I was forced to do the ever-so-fun swim to shore to retrieve the board. On the second and third occasions, I fell off while on waves. I'm more surprised about how well I held onto the board. Going leashless does force you to hang on to the board. There was one set wave I tried to get over. Once I saw that I couldn't make it, I paddled as hard as I could, put my head down, and punched through the top of it. I couldn't believe it; I didn't think I'd actually make it through unscathed. If I'd been leashed to the board, I would not have been so determined to stay connected to the board. It's funny what a little ocean swimming will do to your tenacity. After the third swim, I was determined to stay on or with that board. This was a good confidence building session. I was back on the longboard since Wetsand predicted small surf. My leash, as it turns out, was still on my funboard. (Note to self: Don't be so cheap! Buy a leash for each board!)