Paddle your ass off for everything. You’ll make it eventually. Mana Photo / Shutterstock.com
I’ll tell you why I don’t have a GoPro on my board. It’s mostly because I’d rather chew tinfoil than witness the despairing reality that is my surfing. I’d much rather dwell in the alternate universe where my surfing is fluent and reeking of style. My arms aren’t fluttering awkwardly as I shuffle my feet to line up a “critical hack.” Keep your GoPro. Don’t shatter my WSL dreams.
There’s this strange intermediate period in the evolution of a surfer from a beginner to capable rider. We scamper to the water as rookies, wide-eyed and clueless, and that eagerness results in a “not-giving-a-fuckness.” That attitude is invaluable. Rare. Its half-life is miniscule. As we become more competent wave riders, the awareness of our kookiness becomes incredibly high.
One day we’re paddling for a set wave, then pulling back. Those eyes down the line! All those surfers waiting in liquid anticipation to see your navigation of the wave of the day. But instead you abort, knowing full-well that you might have fallen. You’ve reached the point where it matters. Where falling on a perfect wave shatters your confidence and sends you home shaking your head and considering burning your high performance thruster ultra-mega Dane Reynolds edition surfboard (with sick fins).
This purgatory of surf vanity is hell. Counterproductive to progression. Ultimately, it is the opposite of the emotions that sent us sprinting like a monk on fire toward that waist-high slop on the first day surfing. It’s like being on the tee box on the first hole. You can focus on the ball all you want, but the skin boiling on your back keeps reminding you there are people watching. Failure in solitude is acceptable. But failure with an audience? Torture.
I surfed for a long time with someone far better than I. I still do. It pushes you. Shows you what you’re aiming for in the future. What you should strive to add to your surfing arsenal. It really is quite a privilege to have this in your daily session. Admittedly, there was a long time where I was intimidated by his level of surfing displayed against my version of surfing. Eventually, and I mean really damn eventually, you kick down that ridiculous, vain, stupid, childish, way of surfing, and you find yourself surfing with those same emotions you had as a newbie. When how you surfed and what you looked like didn’t matter.
A very rare moment has currently presented itself in my surfing career. The day where a new surfer is accompanying me in the water on a regular basis, and it is now me who is the one more capable than him. Incredible, I know. And of all the advice he has asked of me, all the bullshit I’ve spouted off (like, “just chill out”) the most meaningful and important has been one thing.
Fall. Embrace falling. Enjoy it. Stop caring about falling in front of people. If you’re pulling out of a wave with even a 5% chance of you making it, then what’s the point? It’s water. Not concrete. It’s not Pipeline. Injury isn’t a factor. So paddle your ass into every closeout that comes your way and eat shit until you finally know what a closeout looks like, then paddle into the ones that aren’t. If there is one thing that stalls a surfer’s progression, it is quite simply the fear of falling, especially in front of other surfers. And that’s just plain silly.
