Thirty-seven years after I was born and raised in San Diego, on Wednesday, June 24, 2009 at 4 p.m., I surfed for the first time. Throughout my life people have wondered how a native San Diegan like myself could get through nearly four decades of life without ever surfing (truth be told, without ever having held a surfboard). I’ve never been able to say. It just happened.
Even now, I doubt my efforts to learn to surf this summer would have much force if it were not for a few life circumstances. I’m no longer a practicing entrepreneur, having sold my stake in a company I helped build. Thus my work hours are not of my own choosing, which means my loyal mutt Piper and I no longer run a few miles each morning. He’s sad, and I’m out of shape.
Instead of “working for myself” (entrepreneurs like to say they work for themselves, but that’s probably the falsest of all the claims they make), I now work for Point Loma Nazarene University, which happens to sit about three hundred feet above and a quarter mile east of the Pacific Ocean. And I work with a non-San-Diego-native surfer, who’s my de facto instructor.
The last reason that’s motivated me to take up surfing is harder to explain. It’s probably a mixture of middle-age restlessness, desire to overcome challenges and fears, a longing to fill my life with activities that are both physical and natural, the pleasure of doing something that impresses my young daughters, and accomplishing a goal that seems as unlikely as any I can imagine. “Waterman” is the least-likely moniker anyone who knows me would call me. I do also have a sneaky suspicion that the next six months of attempting to surf might provide metaphors for my book about the 100 Thing Challenge and simplifying my life.
Though it did take two purchases to get into surfing: a wetsuit and a surfboard.
Four times. That’s how many times I’ve paddled out. It has taken only four attempts at surfing to conclude that I need only two things to learn to surf this summer. Humility and time. Likely a lot of both, though probably mostly humility. The third time out, I strained an oblique. The fourth time out I aggravated it, and added an egg-sized knot on my right foot from getting hit by my board. I managed to catch about three waves I’ve ridden on my belly, though I do plan to stand up eventually.
More to come...
I think this is pretty wonderful in so many ways.
Hang in there, I'm sure that first standing wave will be the ultimate payoff for all your time and humility and patience with yourself and the ocean.
I think "Waterman" is a cool moniker. It may fit you a little easier come Labor Day.
Posted by: Laura Lee | July 05, 2009 at 11:38 PM
Laura Lee, I'm taking the long view. No doubt that first ride will be sweet. I'm going to enjoy it, but work toward more, especially a better understanding of the ocean.
Posted by: Dave Bruno | July 06, 2009 at 09:21 PM
Color me green. Very jealous.
Posted by: Jamie Cain | July 08, 2009 at 06:19 PM
Wait. Did we miss your birthday?
Posted by: Michele Corbett | July 14, 2009 at 08:24 PM