happy 10 months (of surfing) to me

I can't believe it's been ten months of surfing, not just for me...but for Adam, too. I couldn't believe because I am one of the worst people to commit to something that I am not sure I'd be sticking with in the long run. I am impatient, afraid of failure and a coward. Which when you think about...isn't really suited for surfing.

You see, I have this big fear. I am a control freak and losing control is a big NO for me. Adam knows this well. I easily breakdown when there is a change of plans or if I cannot accomplish something because I am not capable of doing so. And the ocean is something nobody can control. It is something bigger than me and I just take what I can get.

I also deal with failure poorly. To keep it short, I do not dabble into things I am sure I am not going to be good at. Or if ever I do, I always want to get to the top...fast. And with me being like this....I knew it wouldn't work out.

But life has a funny way of letting things fall into place. I was given a husband with so much patience, commitment, and courage. No joke. It's like we're a perfect match. He knows that not everything in life can be controlled, he works hard to accomplish his goals, and he deals with failure fairly well. Sometimes I need to slap myself to believe that we are here, right now, doing what we love...and doing it together.

I was first pushed into a wave last 2010 in Baler. Nothing followed. Life happened: we got married and we had a baby. As we were busy becoming parents we slowly slipped away from our own selves. Hobbies and passions were set aside...we fell madly in love with our daughter that we did not notice we were also losing our identities. It was just "daddy" and "mommy." I don't know how surfing got to my husband again... but for me...it was because of death...of loss and of pain.

The day I lost my cousin... I was so heartbroken and nothing could stop the emptiness I felt. No matter how hard I screamed and how many times I cried...there was a hole in my heart and I did not know what to do. To be honest, I was angry. I was angry because I couldn't control anything. I wasn't able to save her, nobody was. Nothing I did changed that, she was gone. I lost all control of my emotions and passed the days immersing myself with the happiness I got from my daughter and husband. But I did not know how to make the rage in me go away. I took up yoga. That helped...a lot. Around that time Adam began to surf again. He would bug me again and again to try. I did (in a wave pool); I did not have fun. And I asked him:

"What do you get from surfing anyway?? You'd tire yourself paddling out...and then you get a nasty wipe out...what's the point in that? What makes you come back for more?"

He gave me no clear answer. He just simply said, "I don't know. I couldn't explain it. You'd know if you tried."

I didn't.

But I tagged along on his surf trips...playing with Bean on the shore while watching him. He surfs; I take his pictures. He surfs; I play with Bean....and two trips was all it took for me to feel a little envious of his new found passion. He looked so happy...like he was on top of the world.

I wanted that. I wanted to feel that way too.

So I told him, almost whispering, "Daddy, I think I want to give it a try again."

Ten months ago, I was again pushed into a wave. I got up on my first try. I thought it was going to be easy to learn and progress....but I was clueless then. I thought paddling and catching a wave on your own would come naturally. It doesn't. I was continuously pushed into waves...and they said I looked like a natural once I am riding it.

But paddling was a different thing! It was way out of my league. I have no muscle mass, I am not athletic...and I do not eat enough to have that kind of endurance to last even twenty minutes in the water.

Then Adam taught me something about commitment. To stick to what I am doing even when the gong gets tough, even when failure is laughing at me in the face. To keep going out in the water even if I already want to quit.

I do not have the luxury of getting enough water time because I am a mother. My priority is not myself. My time is not only for myself. We only get about two surf trips a month. This makes me work twice as hard...because I want to get it so bad.

We all know, though, that things like surfing cannot be rushed. I have come close to giving up. Once, I think, I even cried to my husband because I was foolish enough to ride a smaller board when I haven't even consistently caught waves on a 9'0".

The solution, I traded my 7'5" fun board with Adam's 8'0"....and we hit it off. I am a weak paddler, but I can trim a wave fairly well...and with his board...I am able to catch a few waves in a session.

Last weekend was the first time I paddled out by myself to the lineup. Thankfully, the people there were kind enough to to give me some waves to catch (which majority of them I missed).

There are times I'd just sit there and stare at the ocean. I look into the vast unknown and feel....content. I feel that there is nothing else I need...that the present is where I am supposed to be. Surfing has taught me to let go of everything that scares me, and just let myself flow where life takes me. It helped me find myself. It taught me to simply be me. No matter if people do not agree or understand.

And if they ask me the same thing I asked Adam:

"What do you get from surfing anyway??

You'd tire yourself paddling out...and then you get a nasty wipe out...

what's the point in that? What makes you come back for more?"