What problem, fun.

Compositional Happenstance in a New York Apartment. 

Today I indulged in a little disreputable joy.  The waves were lining up nicely, but mostly closing out just as surely since the swell direction and the tide were having an argument.  I lucked into a few longish connected types, but mostly dropped into one aborted pull out after another. Somewhere in there I had the best wave of my day, if definitely not the best looking wave from the bystander's appraisal. I was prone.  I turned a little late into something vaguely in the shoulder to head high zone, started to paddle and then just stayed on my belly.  I guided the board from there around a couple sections, up and down the face and out onto the shoulder.  Feeling the rush of the energy and being so close to the wave made my session, but almost certainly hurt my status in the lineup.  There were, what I might be projecting to be, a few dark looks as I paddled back out.  The next handful of waves I tried to make sure I looked a little more serious.  But that prone wave, the one where the speed felt most amped, is the one I'll savor.