Rainy days can be gloomy. But in surfing, getting wet is inevitable, so as long as you don’t mind a bit of dirty water and the occasional drops in your eyes, the stoke is all the same.
As I stepped across the muddy looking sand and reached the ocean around 7:45 a.m., not a soul in sight save a few onlookers at the pier, I knee-paddled in solitude over the small ankle slappers, patiently waiting for an occasional knee-high set wave.
I found myself calm. Not worried about what I had to do in an hour, the little stresses of life, and felt no form of hurry. That hustle and bustle of life ends where the sea begins, and getting to tune out for some ocean therapy, whether with friends or not, is part of the reason why I now live to surf, and live to surf every day.
