Well, I seem to have located my stoke since the last time I confessed my deepest, darkest thoughts to this blog. (sigh) Okay, they weren't exactly deep thoughts. I was just in a state where I was utterly devoid of stoke. I didn't know where to find it, wasn't even sure how to look for it. As far as I could tell. my stoke was missing in action.
At some point during the last week, my stoke came out from its hiding place. There were several things that contributed to this.
First, my surf sessions made me happy. My ankle finally decided it didn't need to hurt while I was in the water. I'm now surfing pain-free. That in itself was enough to make my stoke come out into the open for a bit, much like Punxsutawney Phil does before he goes back into his hole for six additional weeks of winter. My stoke was beginning to make its presence known. It wasn't anything in particular. It was the seeming little things—things like dolphins putting on a show while no one else was around.
Things like trying out a, for me, monstrous longboard (at 9'7") that rides so well I don't want to give it back. The board, which is the yellow one with the polka dots in the first photo, looks like it's seen better days. It's had more repairs than I can count. It's delaminating in several places. It's prettiest days are behind it. Nevertheless, this board
is phenomenal. I've gotten it on a few good waves, and it has proved itself to be worthy of all of the lore surrounding it.
I surfed the board the other day at my favorite spot. On that day, I managed to pull out the best and longest switch stance wave I've ever ridden. It was easy and felt totally effortless. It must have been a good wave; it prompted Mike Purpus
to tell me, "Well, now you're just trying to make me look bad." Yeah, like I could ever make Mike Purpus look bad . . . in the water. He is one bad ass older dude. I love surfing with him. After my wave, I subsequently saw him catch a wave during which he switched his stance three times. Three times!! Yeah, I'm making him
The second reason why my stoke decided to reappear is that I've been getting my Max Roach/John Bonham/Ginger Baker on. This was in the works at the beginning of the year. Then I destroyed my ankle, thus putting paid the idea of playing the drums. You can't exactly work the hi-hat if you can't move your foot up and down. But once I could get that foot working, I got back on track and began my lessons. Playing the drums, combined with surfing without pain, has sent my stoke off the charts.
How did I spend my Mother's Day? I surfed. I then came home and stripped wax off both the loaner board and my beloved Almond. Interestingly enough, I put my Zombie Apocalypse shoes on my car to dry in the sun. Somehow, one shoe came up missing. The car was parked at the curb, so it's likely someone walked off with it. But why? Those are some seriously nasty shoes. That stolen shoe, like its leftover match, was still wet and dirty from my hike down and back up from the surf break. Who would want it and why? I still don't know. And the shoe has not returned home. Oh well. They were just a few sessions away from the trash bin anyway.
Yes, I know the look of the blog changed. I certainly didn't intend for it to change. However, I was using a seven-year-old template that Google/Blogger wanted me to stop using. Somehow, they won. I can't and won't fight it. Change happens . . . whether we like it or not.
Pray for stoke!