Back In the Water

Today I went surfing after an eight-year hiatus. I never meant to wait that long, but two kids later here I was, going back in as a mom.

I woke up early, a little anxious to get ready for today's adventure. I even woke the kids up a little early. The sooner I got them out the door to summer camp and preschool, the sooner I could head down to the beach. Surfboard? Check. Wetsuit? Check. All I needed now was a healthy coat of sunscreen and I'd be ready to go.

My husband, who is a surfer and stand-up paddleboarder, has been trying to get me to surf again for years. He is so happy I'm getting back in the water, he offered to drive the kids to their respective destinations before work this morning. I took him up on the offer and prepared to head out.

It was the middle of the week, so I was half expecting to be the only person in the water, which made me nervous. I mentioned this to my husband who promptly responded, "Surf near a lifeguard tower." Okay, but I know that surfing is not like riding a bike-- I will be starting all over again, a newbie. Add to that I'm not in the same shape I was in ten years ago. But my husband reminded me of one very important fact: I will still have my ocean sense. That won't be gone.

I knew he was right, and I felt better hearing it. When I was learning to surf, I really didn't know how to paddle out and not get tumbled. I didn't know that waves come in, in repetitive sets, and you can usually find a small break every few minutes so you don't get worked trying to paddle out. My timing will be off, but not my ocean sense.

I drove to the beach and looked for parking. The fact that I had to drive around to find parking didn't surprise me. When I finally parked, it hit me: I'm doing this, by myself. I just may be crazy. A friend of mine was so concerned about me going out on my own she made me promise to call before I got in the water and as soon as I got out. Girlfriends are great like that.

With my wetsuit half on, I carried my 8'0" tri fin longboard to the beach. My board was heavier and more awkward than I remembered. As the surfline came into view, I saw that the water was crowded with surfers and the surf was about 2-3 feet, not the 1-2 feet I was expecting. It might not sound like much of a difference, but I would have been happy with ankle-high surf. I was secretly hoping for a lake. I thought my problem would be surfing alone, but I had the opposite problem: Too many surfers. I looked around for a place to be by myself so I didn't accidently run into anyone.

I spotted the perfect place with a left surf break, away from the crowds. As I zipped up my wetsuit and attached my leash, I watched the sets come in, looked for the break I needed and paddled out. I started to wonder, will the ocean taste the same after all this time, and will the experience feel the same as it once did?

I paddled out with one goal in mind: Don't get caught in breaking waves. I kept paddling to the spot I picked from the shoreline. When I reached it, I inhaled the fresh air deeply, sat up on my board and caught my breath. The last time I surfed here, the dolphins were swimming next to me. It was an amazing experience.

As I looked around hoping to see them again, I was reminded how peaceful the ocean is. How the sun casts its light, making every ripple in the water sparkle. I've missed out on more than just waves over the past eight years, a lot more. Just being out there is what I missed. I didn't catch a single wave that day, but it didn't matter. I was out there, and I was happy just being out there.