How many times have you forced yourself into a wetsuit when everything you see is not worth the effort? It’s counterproductive, but in the end, it’s almost always worth it.
Sometimes, we just have to go.
There is nothing less exciting than watching a windblown sea with barely rideable waves and knowing that you can’t postpone it anymore.
It happened to me yesterday.
I hadn’t been in the water for weeks. Back-to-back storms made winter what it is really supposed to be, that is, the harshest season to surf the European Atlantic coastlines.
I am used to paddling out in 12 °C (53 °F) water and air temperatures below 10 °C (50 °F), but you can’t just put your feet in the water when all you can see is white water.
It’s just undoable from a surfing perspective.
So, apart from mind surfing and revising your thoughts on the advantages of having a wave pool at your doorstep – maybe they could be useful and fun after all – there’s little you can do to beat a North Atlantic winter storm.
If waiting, relaxing, and enjoying hot chocolate is not your thing, and you need to stay active, you can, as I do, turn to climbing and longboard skating.
Nothing replaces surfing, and the feeling we get after an even average session in mediocre conditions.
You know that, but as we get older, we seem to be more and more picky about the type and quality of waves we need to get out there.
At some point, if we lose touch with surfing for a while, it gets harder to put on a wetsuit. It seems like there’s always a very good reason not to.
When the eyes tell you not to
Surfing shapes who we are. In some cases, it defines us.
And there is a moment, after weeks dreaming about the perfect-peeling, transparent blue waves waiting just for us, but that never arrive, that we must force our brains to do exactly the opposite of what they are instructing us.
It’s like something in us tells us just to get wet. And just that.
Yesterday, I checked the surf cams at least four times in a couple of hours. It was never looking good.
A 20-knot, cold, sideshore wind was picking up so much sand that passersby on their Sunday stroll across the boardwalk had to look away to avoid getting blinded by the tiny grains of minerals flying high.
With that wind, you may figure out the ocean conditions. It made the word “miserable” feel good about itself.
Finding a place to park by the beach on a Sunday afternoon was the sign I didn’t need after arriving.
“People were getting away from the sandstorm, so why should I go surfing? This is a really bad idea,” I thought.
That’s when I entered autopilot mode.
Undress. Suffer the low temperature impact. Resist. Enter the wetsuit. Put on the neoprene booties and hoodie. Avoid thinking and feeling. Run to the beach.
Meanwhile, I had to grab my board really hard, as the wind was trying to steal it from me. Maybe it would be a good idea to let it go.
But I made it to the shoreline. My neoprene-protected toes revealed that the water temperature was not going to make it comfy and easy for me either.
It’s cold and mediocre, but I love it
The northern wind was so strong that I spent the whole session triangulating, paddling against the current, and re-positioning myself in the peak.
I don’t even know if I could call it a peak. But yes, it was a more or less predefined lineup where most of the waves were rising.
At one of Europe’s busiest surf breaks, we were five in the water. You get it, right? Not for everyone, that’s for sure.
Interestingly, the “what I am doing here” vanished as soon as I paddled for my first wave.
And this is precisely the lesson that I was taught again: “It’s OK. It feels good to be in the water…”
I spent most of the time fighting the current. And had a laugh with the warriors who shared that challenging time with me.
“I am going to fine you for each good wave you lose,” I told the young kids in the lineup. They laughed.
And we kept doing until “that” wave told us it’s always better to come in on a high note.
A quick walk up the beach followed. I greeted a young dachshund that was curious to see a man in a dark blue suit carrying a board.
The feel-good vibes were covering me like a protective shield against the unpleasant weather conditions.
A cold freshwater shower followed before running to my car to avoid getting frozen.
And as soon as I got out of my wetsuit, life was amazing again. I felt the happiest human being around.
And by the time I had my socks and shoes on, I was proud I had fought the “it’s not worth it” syndrome. It almost always is.
The ocean heals the restlessness, the wounded mind, the troubled times, the mildly depressed and bored souls.
And surfing, with its magic, adds color and salt to any Sunday afternoon. No matter if it’s cold or warm, raining or sunny. It’s always a winning choice.
Words by Luís MP | Founder of SurferToday.com
