I didn’t quite know how I’d feel, surfing for the first time in over 3 months. My last session at St Lucian was okay… A new spot, a weird wave which breaks funny, and a cold breeze.
My winter in surf was amazing. Surfing daily for over a week in December, alone or in a pair without the pressure of crowds, cameras or social media buzz.
My winter in life was far from amazing. In fact, it was a difficult period of my life that made me question everything. I was renovating a new house after selling my home, which was extremely dear to me. Everything felt strange, from the sale to the purchase to the renovation.
Socially, I was forced to distance myself due to the massive amount of labour and time the new place needed. My dumbbells became sacks of ruble, and my gym was a construction site. As time for social life declined, time for surfing all but vanished.
Thankfully, a dedication to playing a new sport once a week helped me lock down some form of cardio, which served its purpose for my agitated and often anxious mind. This winter, I picked up basketball for the first time since I was a young teen.
This rejuvenated me in an inexplicable way. Learning something from scratch is always super exciting. Learning a team sport is complex, so you have to learn your body, how to use the ball, hoop and backboard, but also how to fit into a team. It’s a crazy formula that consumed me.
For this sporting burst, I have one person to thank: My son, Pedro, who at the age of six declared his dream is to be “The best in the NBA, better than Lebron.” I love the ability a kid has to dream, so my reply has always been “cool, let’s get it!” I’ll support him no matter what, and even if he ends up becoming an accountant or office clerk, I’m happy he dreams big, and sports is a huge part of his routine. I decided, if he’s enjoying something, why not join him and be a part of his journey. It’s a key pivot in my life, one where my bond to Pedro is super strong. It’s a deep love for a game. A deep love for eachother. A deep love for life. He’s a rebel who refuses to surf, knowing that that is my lifestyle, and teases me daily for it. He wants to be different from his dad, and that’s awesome. Somehow however he’s loving basketball with me… so ye go figure!
Fast-forward to spring. It’s been three months since climbing a rope up from the San Lucian session, and a rare moment of spontaneity pops up. It’s Friday, and it’s pumping.
(Side note, as a parent, improvising, putting yourself first, or any form of unplanned fun NEVER, and I mean NEVER happens)
So, in a record two minutes, I grabbed my wetsuit, picked up my board, and in a flash, I was there sitting on the ocean. I sat for 120 seconds before my first wave appeared. That time seemed to go by so slowly. So many thoughts popped in. Can I still do this? Does my pop up still suck? Should I just go home? Do I bother? Are people gonna laugh?
Suddenly, the wave formed, and I was right where I needed to be. I paddled fast and hard… seemingly gaining strength from all the basketball, and took the wave. Wow. It was my first wave in ages, and it still felt good. That wave washed my fears away. It was a nice, sweet little ride, angled to the right as much as I could.
In truth, I thought I had lost my love for this sport… I thought I was done. I struggle to surf, really, as I push towards my 40s. Surfing is not something I feel I am good at all. And basketball only highlighted that further, as I picked up that sport much faster. I am a speedy dude with lots of energy. I am tall, so rebounds come easy and layups come easier. As for my shot, 💩. wow, that needs work.
But yes, after my first wave, standing on the board as it stalled and slowed, I felt fantastic. I felt I could still do it. And the session just kept on giving me gifts. The conditions were perfect for me, and I’ll always consider myself to be a beginner. I am yet to do anything remarkable on a surfboard, and I doubt I ever will, but perhaps the most important thing is that it still felt good. And it was fun.
My forced break, due to the house renovation and later pure surf-return anxiety, community issues and life’s business, seems to have recharged by batteries. Playing another sport meant I still worked my body. So maybe there is a case where taking a break does help.
I have always felt pressure to follow the conditions. A massive FOMO erupts inside me when I see that I will miss a session. It sucks. It’s the hardest thing to manage as a dad who tries to surf. The reality is, I can’t be there every break. I can’t capture moments for BOMBA as often as I used to. I can’t seem to make much progress due to the start-stop nature of this hobby. Waves in Malta demand dedication, and I love the guys and girls who manage. You’re living the surfing lifestyle, travelling, shredding, doing it all. Please, never stop, only for a wee break if you need!
Now the reality is, who knows when my next session will be? Will I feel the pre-surf anxiety? Will I feel the FOMO if I can’t make it? Definitely. But, having been gifted such a beautiful session on Friday, I feel now I can handle those emotions better.
Maybe, taking a break wasn’t such a bad thing after all. I feel recharged, and that our little community is healing, too. I’ll stick to my weekly basketball date, and take my son to his four sessions per week. It’s a triple win, so bring on the next waves.
