So, this was a pretty full weekend. Friday morning, I saw a new client who has come in as an EMDR client, to work on a grief situation. There's some trickiness around money, but hopefully they'll stick.
Then, Heather going off to the chiropractor, I decided to get some surfing in. The surf report from Wise, the shop at the end of Fulton, said that it was marginally surfable, which pretty much proved true. I decided to not drive down to Sloat (the beaches are labeled by what street intersects them from the East--all are strung out along the Great Highway) and to try what I think is called Sunset Beach. The waves looked a bit choppy from the parking lot, and no one else was on them, but I figured to brave it anyway.
Suiting up, I tore my boot but since it's both relatively warm in the water now, and seemingly I'm acclimatizing to the fridgity, I went with it and it didn't prove to be a problem. It's a trek from the lot to the water (which makes for a lot of mud on the way back), but I'm getting used to the ritual. Suit up in the lot, trying not to let one's birthday suit show as the wind pulls at one's modesty towel, then schlep the board down across the sand and finally strap on the leash to your right leg before walking into the surf.
Now, the current can be a bitch out on Ocean Beach, pulling north or south depending on where the wind is blowing from, and therefore from where the waves are coming. You can be standing in the water and have to fight not to be pulled over by the force of the waves pushing along the beach. Rip tides haven't been a problem, but once in the water, the current can have you up or down the beach in no time.
But that day, it was fairly mellow, and I could get out past the breaking waves to the line where most were breaking. The problem was that the waves were big--maybe five feet, which is pretty damn big when you're laying on your stomach at the bottom of them--and were breaking quickly. So if you didn't position right, they'd either land right on you or break in front of you and knock you about with the stack of white water.
I persevered and caught a couple waves, and a chunk of whitewater, that allowed me a short ride and a quick dunk. Slowly, slowly, my body and mind are building a surfer, but the growth curve is slow because you only get a short amount of time to build said surfer each time you're out. You get to practice a lot of swimming and getting through the surf to the line, but the actual surfing part, not so much. Still, it's addictive, and being out alone in the waves is a welcome break to the sociality of my life.
One thing you learn is a real respect for the ocean and waves. That day, they were waves to make you pay attention, medium-serious waves that needed to be treated with respect. Extrapolating to larger waves, that's a long ways down the line for me (though I wouldn't mind finding some more classic waves to practice on). I ended up rather pooped from the swimming, and finding my biceps strained, just floated on the surf and let it gradually push me back to shore, doing a little prone surfing, getting a further hang of how to press into the board in order to catch more of the wave's energy. Eventually, I made it into shore in one piece and forgot to pick up a rock to mark the day's surfing (I've begun collecting a stone for each outing).
Usually, I've been surfing on Saturday morning, but having gone out three times this week, I was too sore, so just got up late and rousted Heather for our band workshop. We drove over to Fort Mason and worked on a couple songs off our setlist, with our funky group of rockers. There's Heather as the female voice (and I'm working on her to take up the maraccas), Rex on guitar and voice, Brian on guitar, Bill on bass, me on drums, and Bill2, our teacher and backup guitarist. In aggregate, the band is probably 30 years older than Cattleprod, the band from two years ago. We quickly threw out some names at the end of the session, and it seems like my idea from the morning's shower, the Estrogenics, is going to stick. Five guys and a chick: The Estrogenics. Yeah? I actually liked "The Enhancements" better, but there ya go, life in a democracy.
After that, we hit Guitar Center for a cord and maracas, then did a relatively rare Big Shopping at Rainbow, and headed home for a mellow-ish rest of the day. We spent an hour and a half working on Widgethouse--the name of our project to create a multi-purpose retreat center up near Petaluma--something we've agreed to do weekly. We skipped it last week, so it felt good to follow through with it. Then some work on finances, juggling the zero percent credit cards and shifting money around, like dodging sharks, and I read some more of Wilbur's book (again, jaw-droppingly profound) and then finished off David Caruso's tenure on NYPD Blue (yeah, the guy from CSI-Miami).
