Surfing is a journey, or at least that’s what my surfing Guru says… a journey, he makes it sound so poetic and peaceful, like I’m going for a brisk stroll through the woods, smiling to the squirrels and briskly skipping all the way. Yes, in a way it’s a total journey, but not in the calming tone he says it in. sure it may even be a stroll in the woods, but you get attacked by twenty trolls and the ground beneath you has somehow landed on your head and next thing you know you’re naked and surrounded by dwarves ( okay I’m going a bit over the top here) but it sure is no easy “ oh look at me I’ve got it” task. It takes work, and by the look of it, it takes a damn big load of work… how many hours will I have to paddle my little heart out before I become any good? A flippin big load is the only answer.
I’ve been at it for months and still can get to my feet in a graceful attempt, nor can I fathom how any of the surfers manage to swoop down the face of the wave and go flying along it like its no trouble… I guess that would be because of the practice, but still, how long until I manage to not look like a drunken cat trying to do yoga while trying to get to my feet on my board? I guess we’ll just have to wait and see, because its sure is going to be a long journey…
I am however proud of myself in the sense that I’ve actually continued with something for longer than a week, usually my attention span flickers out and I move to the next great thing that if I wanted to actually get any good at I’d have to persevere at for years upon years… so here’s to the only thing that I’ve actually managed to keep up, and based on my love for it I wont be dropping it in the first four days like I did when I tried to learn French.
The Water Walking Vagabond 