Three days.

That’s how many days of successive attempts it took for me to stand and ride my first wave.

I’ll back up for a second- since my last “Surf’s Up” post, I’ve had quite the surf training. The burnt nipples healed, and the board rash (mostly) went away. I certainly learned from that experience- men with chest hair need to wear rash guards (the special Billabong shirt). The enthusiasm didn’t die out in the slightest- I spent extra time at the gym working on my balance, went swimming a few times, stocked up on sunscreen, and headed out west. Way west.

In May, one of my good buddies invited me out for a trip to hit the waves. What a good friend he and his lady were, too, taking me out each night and driving me around every day. When we got to the beach that first day, I rented a 9’2″ surfboard, which is actually a huge freakin’ board. What you normally see on surf videos is people riding boards that are six feet or less in length, allowing the rider to quickly maneuver all over the wave. The general principle is: the longer the board, the easier it will be to catch a wave. In theory, anyway. Even after learning how to properly balance and paddle, I had a hard time catching a wave and riding it, without attempting to stand.

But as the adage goes, practice really does make perfect. The easiest way to learn to stand was just by riding out a bunch of waves on my belly. Learning how your board works with your body is just as important as learning how the waves are breaking. That’s the first barrier to surfing, and once past that, you’re a little bit closer. The  unexpected problem I had was the simplest part of surfing- paddling. Paddling out from break to break, catching up with your friends, and riding back out past the shore absolutely kicked my ass. My neck, shoulders, and triceps were SCREAMING after the first day. Without the bruises and little cuts that came with the territory, that exhaustion would have been enough to make the casual adventurer take a break, but I pressed on.

Throughout the first two days, I got tossed from wave to wave, nosedived off the front of the board, hit rocks, and wiped out like a fucking champ. And that’s really what it takes for you to learn the hard way how to surf- you get mopped like the ocean’s bitch. Despite learning the proper techniques and methods before heading out, the only way to properly surf is to fail, fail, think you’re doing a little bit better, and then fail even harder than the first time. After all of the wipe outs, you finally start to learn, feel, and listen to the combination of your body’s existence and the presence of the ocean. Then, and only then, does it all come together.

This is a normal occurrence when I surf.

Once I was properly educated by the waves, I just stopped to listen and watch. I sat up on the board in the mix with all the other (and better) surfers, which, to be completely honest, is one of the subtle rewards of surfing: just to be able to sit in the water and bullshit with people makes it worth the pain. It was at this point where I finally felt comfortable and spotted my wave. My wave was just how I like the women in my life: tall, curvy, and hurtling right toward me. It’s a sight I won’t soon forget. I spun around towards the shore, started paddling, and without looking back, let the wave take me in. That was the big difference- I stopped trying. I just let it be. At that point, surfing becomes second nature. The pop-up felt routine, I stood with my feet in a natural position, and rode the wave out until it died (RIP Julia, my first wave). I didn’t even wipe out- I got off the board on my own accord.

That is the secret to surfing. However you want to say it, “just let it be,” just be super casual,” “just relax,” “don’t think about it,” or “just do it.” Whatever way you get into the zone, just let it happen. Once you reach that point, surfing becomes one of the most rewarding experiences you can give yourself. Unlike other sports, like skating or running, where you are moving across a stable surface, surfing is one of the only sports where you are on an uncontrollable, moving surface. With that in mind, you have to go with that surface – that wave – and become a part of it. Once you ride that first wave, you realize what every other surfer has concluded: surfing is exactly as fun as you’ve ever heard anyone say it is.

After catching the first wave on that bigass board. I told you it was huge!

At this point, I’m hooked. I’ve already had additional surf experiences back in Florida since this first trip. Arguably the best spot to hit the waves is Cocoa Beach, so the day after tropical storm Andrea passed, I headed straight over to the east coast and kept the momentum going. This time, I was ready and caught  a ton of waves. No soreness, no rash, no problem.

A collection of boards at Ron Jon Surf Shop.

Chilling outside Ron Jon.

With hurricane season just underway, I’m looking forward to the next big wave. I’m not going to let Florida confine me once it’s done.

SHAKA, BRO.

I wanted to learn how to surf for the past month, so I went out and did it.

The problem, I realized after the first week, is that you need to have waves to surf in order to actually surf. Here in Florida’s Gulf Coast, there are rarely any waves.

Fuck it, I told myself. I’m going to learn as much as I can.

And learn I did. For the past two weeks, I studied  YouTube videos like a fucking pro for  surf tutorials. I asked around the local surf shops on how to prepare, to which they responded, “swim, balance, and YouTube.” Nice, I thought. I can watch YouTube with the best of them. I know how to swim already, so that was crossed off the list. The rest of the week was spent balancing on Bosu balls at the gym, and watching more YouTube videos. I practiced pop-ups from the ground, (I am “regular-footed,” meaning that I lead with my left foot first, as opposed to my right, which is called “goofy-footed.”), and rode some Vew-Do boards without totally busting my ass. A couple more YouTube videos on my bed and a few more pop-ups and I was ready to go. Right?

Fucking right. On Saturday afternoon, I rented a board and hit the shores. I knew and I didn’t care that there weren’t supposed to be any waves in Florida- I just wanted to learn the very basics about balancing on the board, and if I could get lucky, maybe catch a wave. As it turns out, the first day I went out, there were plenty of waves from an oncoming  storm. The time was right, and I dove in with my rental board.

The water was fine, the waves were abundant, but I only lasted  less than an hour. I couldn’t make it anymore- for some reason,  my stomach felt like it was on fire. Why was my stomach burning so much?

Throughout all of my discovery, not a single surfer,  surf video, or surf shop owner bothered to mention board rash to me. Being that I  have the chest hair of a Greek god, it would have been nice to know that the wax on the board was going to rip me apart, in addition to the waves. WHY DID THEY ASSUME I WOULD ALREADY HAVE A SPECIAL BILLABONG SURF SHIRT?

Check out the damage after the second day. Even my nips are burnt.

I went back out on Sunday to find no waves, but my balance was plenty better. I’m going to let my nipples heal for the next week, and then I’ll do it again!