Mike and Angela's honeymoon, a couple years ago, took them to Waikiki where they booked a lesson from a beach boy, getting hooked in the process on the soft consistency of Waikiki surf. This winter, Angela finally got around to buying Mike the board she'd wanted to get him since their time in the islands. He soon discovered how different the waves of New York are, and she soon discovered the pitfalls of a surfer's schedule. I have been surprised at how good Mike has become despite only surfing for the last handful of months. It might be thanks to the years he spent as a professional cyclist, a practice that demands a maniacal lack of fear and a compulsive dedication to training, but since that first day surfing in the cold slop at Rockaway Mike has been out in the water, no matter the conditions, with more regularity this year than most surfers I know. And it shows. He instinctively knows where to line up, he knows how to paddle, and he is getting the hang of riding the wave. All far sooner than your typical dabbler. It's plenty inspiring.
1 comment:
That's awesome. Sometimes I think the trials and tribulations we face on land make us better in the water. I mean, it's hard to be afraid of a head high wave when you've faced the terror and exhilaration of, say, the birth of a child.
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