When I started tracking my surf sessions – when I started surfing – I marked them on a calendar. The old-fashioned paper kind that hangs on a wall. I’d take a pen and scrawl the location, add a happy face, maybe some exclamation points and details – “longest left ever!!!” – if the session was particularly good or a sadder note – “junky, I suck” – if the opposite were the case. I could see at a glance how a month was shaping up, what my surf schedule looked like, know if conditions had been friendly and how I was feeling about my attempt to be skilled at something I love. This tracking-via-blogging allows for more detail, assuming I take the time, but other than the how-often question, other variables fade away. Plus, I let the sessions add up and then have to write about them all at once, unable to remember exactly which day I was out. The tallying feels more like a bunch of individual moments instead of an ongoing lifestyle. Then again, with how little I’m surfing, that feeling may stem more from being true than from how I’m tracking.
In any case:
#12: Yeah, baby. I caught a lot of waves including some set ones that the guy on my right clearly didn’t think I would go for/get. Take that, sucker! (Cue Soundgarden’s My Wave.)
#13: The swell had dropped, lost some energy, meh, but glad I went out.
#14: Almost didn’t drive out. It’s cold. I’m tired. I’ll probably suck. Almost didn’t paddle out. That set looks kinda big. Am I really in the mood for getting my ass kicked? Look how many people are out. I probably won’t even be able to catch a wave in that crowd. And then I did paddle out and the sun kept shining and I caught a bunch of waves that were stupidly fun and I knew most of the folks in the water and I even made a relatively late drop when hollered into a wave and one wave in particular proved to be a fast, fun playground and fuck all but I love this so much.
(Oh, yeah – my toe! The current required constant paddling to stay in position. I made the mistake of letting myself drift too far over and ended up caught inside a set. I came up from under the first wave with my leash looped around my leg and another wave about to dump itself on top of me. I pushed my leash down, trying to pull my leg out of the loop, but didn’t quite get it clear in time – the wave smashed me into somersaults and the loop tightened around the toe end of my bootie. I scrunched my toes down as the leash pulled hard along my big toe – I thought it might just pop right off – luckily, the leash slid a little further, knotting around my bootie hard enough to pull it half off my foot, but my toe was safe. Whew! Thank goodness I was spared from such an ignoble injury.)