Humbled/tumbled...

Kendog- one of the other mat-maestros I watch with a students' eye.

Nine days, no work. Nine days, time for surfing. My wife, sick with a little growing grom in her tummy, had the grace to allow me to feed my addiction. Alarm buzzes at 5:30. Out the door I go, boards packed, visions of cylindrical sublimity in my mind.

Each session was a lesson. Got donuts on an early barrel on Sunday and ended up with a nice shimmery patch in my vision, courtesy of a partially separated retina. Frontside cutbacks felt a bit stiff. Maybe that's because I don't know how to bend my knees. I'll have to work on that.

My last session I met with T. Inflate. He is my mat-riding hero. He is stylish and understated with a real stoke for the ocean. We hit a fantastic wave early and caught some head high bombers on the mats. I must say, I was quite rusty (first mat session in a couple months) but had a ball on the magic towel. My first wave, my fin got blown off. A few waves later, I am on a bucking bronco contorting under me as I try to control the mat. Then I remember- you don't control or steer the mat- you feel the mat and let it do it's frictionless glide uninhibited by your feeble mortal attempts at control. You see, the mat is a divine living entity. It will not be mastered. You must convince it that you care for it, then it will allow you to enjoy its company for a session or two. Once bravado and ego emerge, it will turn on you and humble you, usually in front of your friends on a perfect wave.

I'm working on holding a high line on the steepest of faces in order to use the unbelievable speed of the mat to its full extent. I found myself just behind the section on many of the steep runners I encountered. So easy to enjoy, so hard to master...

New Lis due this week!