20th Blog - The re-cap

This has nothing to do with surfing or life in Costa Rica, but I just discovered my brother is a genius (well I always knew he was but it was re-confirmed). He has released another fantastic song “last bottle, lost battle” that happens to be the perfect sunset on the veranda song and hence..here I am..on my veranda…as the sun is setting.. with the song on repeat. You have to check out on:
http://www.thesixtyone.com/psychicstunts/#/psychicstunts/

In my last blog I was pretty much speechless after having had my first ride on Juan (I thought I’d reiterate here, especially for any new readers, that Juan is a surfboard, not a hot Costa Rican surfer boy). At the time I just couldn’t find enough words to explain the experience so I thought I'd give you a re-cap now instead.

It was the worst day the ocean could have thrown at us; Alvaro actually said he hadn’t seen it that bad for a year. The waves where coming from all directions in frequent but irregular patterns and it was just messy. Sort of like dodge ball. You keep ducking and divin’ but never quite know where the ball is.. As always, a bunch of surfers where standing on the beach staring at the crazy French mistress looking for a sign that there was something in there worth suiting up for. Me and Alvaro where doing the same… I so longed to give Juan a go but I wanted it to be a good experience and after binch-drinking in NYC for a few days I wasn’t all that confident my body could keep up with a smaller board in these conditions. As Alvaro and I grabbed our boards and walked along the shore, he kept telling me he would be right next to me every step of the way and that I needed to get in the water and give this a go. “You are ready” he said and I decided he should be called by his rightful name – Yoda – from now on. Then the fight began. I have gained a lot of strength over the past month and Juanita was becoming a pleasure to paddle out on, but now I was back right where I started. I had to muster every single bit of strength and when that ran out half way, every ounce of willpower, to get through the break. There wasn’t really a breaking point to hang out at, instead we were dodging freak waves and paddling up and down just hoping we would be in the right spot when a surfable wave came along. It did. We where. “You have to turn hard”, which is code for “this wave is breaking really fast” was all I heard and then the world became irrelevant. All that mattered was to get on that wave and with a strong push from Yoda, I was up and dropping so fast while the foam was all around me threatening to take me down. Now I know it is hard to imagine that surfing a wave can be such an emotional and profound experience. I don’t understand it myself. But as I danced on water, as I rode up and down the wave just a hair from its breaking force, Juan following every move I made like he knew it even before I did, I cried. When Alvaro joined me afterwards he just looked at me and his eyes where saying “I know”. We turned around and began the fight through the break all over again; just to get another “hit” of that potent drug called surfing…

Now needless to say, I was rearing to get back to training after that experience so it was with great disappointment that I woke up the next morning with a fever (although a bit of a relief since it turns out the trouble with paddling wasn’t all lack of muscles). Now I am stuck in bed for the second day running. I have cashed in all my good karma and hope to get a clean bill tomorrow morning because it is secret spot day, and I am going to get on that board again darn it!!