May is the New Summer

All it takes is a lot of sunshine along with some bona fide hot weather to make me try to spend most of the day outside. When I got up this morning, I had no intention of getting in the water. I'd decided the night before that a leg workout was in order, that it was time to climb those damn stairs again. I don't do this workout often since I often find it ever so boring. Lately though, it's been fun. Anyway, I'd decided that I'd do the stairs today, stay out of the water, hang out at home—you know the drill.

Why do I even bother to make plans?

I did the stairs, yes. For whatever reason, I felt great afterwards. In fact, I felt like I hadn't even done anything strenuous. On a sunny day, that just won't do. In my world, you go outside and play until you can play no more. So once I got home, I wasn't even thinking about resting on my quad-burning laurels. I started thinking about getting in the ocean. Thinking, I said, thinking.

And thinking often leads to doing.

A couple of hours later, I was at a certain break off of PCH. I don't surf there often. I only go when it's virtually empty. I brought a board, but I wasn't feeling going surfing. Not here. Those rocks are deadly. And I've got the dings to prove it.

You know where I'm going with this, don't you?