¡Team Perez!

Thesis, Defended. Changes in the Works

I’ve been remiss in my writing lately, but as anyone who knows me knows it has been for good cause. On Monday I successfully defended my Master’s thesis. The last two months have been quite busy, to say the least, as I made all the final revisions, edits, and preparations.

I will be returning to regular writing soon, but I also plan on making some changes. This fall I will move on the doctoral degree—because being a student is better than being unemployed—and I want to move the blog to a different site. This URL will soon be a landing page with links to my personal and professional websites.

Until then, I’m just glad to be finished with the thesis. It took its pound of flesh from me, but it was also a project that I am glad I stuck with to the end.

On Surfing for the First Time*

As soon as the central California water rolled onto the shore and over my feet and ankles, I was convinced that I would be an embarrassment. Wetsuit be damned, there was no way I was going to be hold my own in the water while literally freezing. Ten minutes and I would be throwing in the towel, pun intended. I would be too cold to think coherently, yet alone paddle, stand up, and ride the waves. This wasn’t going to work, and my cousin would be out there, pumped and ready to catch waves, but inevitably called out of the water to tend my hypothermic corpse.

Chris had brought me to Santa Cruz to take me surfing. I have been asking for some time since returning to California for an introduction. I still can’t run or do many other activities on account of my ankle injury, and I wasn’t sure if I would be able to handle surfing: but the mellow nature of longboarding seemed like it may be way for me to get out there and be active without causing risk or further injury to my ankle. But I digress. For the few days before Sunday it was raining hard. Unusually hard for California, but then again, this is an El Niño winter. Sunday, however, greeted us with sunshine and low winds. The wind mattered more than the sun. Too much wind would kill our plans because the waves would be too choppy for a novice.

Chris already secured a board for me to use. We stopped by a friend of his who loaned me a wetsuit. Total cost: nothing (though I did buy Chris lunch later for the lesson). That others would be willing to lend me equipment merely on account of being Chris’s cousin speaks volumes both about my cousin’s character and also the culture of surfing. Surfers always pay it forward. Help your neighbor and the kindness will surely be returned.

Saddled up and ready, we first surveyed a few locations in Monterey area. After determining that the waves either lacked the push necessary to surf or were breaking to hard for a novice, we headed to Surf City, USA.**

So there I am, just off 41st Street, down the man made steps on the side of a cliff thinking about the first surf explorers who must have either climbed down with ropes, or swam into this cove from the main beach. As I laid down on my board and started paddling behind Chris, the wetsuit worked as advertised. Suddenly, I felt more warm in the water than I did on the shoreline wearing jeans and sweater. Now my primary concern was keeping up. I’m a solid swimmer. My parents enrolled me in swim lessons as child and I have always enjoyed getting in the water. Now was different. Laying on a board and paddling changes the dynamics of moving through the water. Each stroke moved my body ever so slightly on the board, which moved the board’s position in the water, and most of the energy that would normally move me forward was lost in side-to-side rocking. Chris and the other locals glided across the dark glassy water. I was flopping around like a drunken seal.

After about 30 minutes of barely managing to stay on top of my board, I saw a wave that looked as though it would break in just the right spot for me. I turned, paddled, and felt the wave begin to push me up and forward. It felt like I was floating, weightless, for just a second. I began to stand up, trying to get my feet on the board quickly. Then, just as quickly as began to float, I was in the water with my board going in another direction. Without the leash, I may never have been able to get it back. Pulling the board back to me, I climbed back on it, and continued to paddle and wait for another wave, but it was not to be. That was the high point of my session. Some may see it as an exercise in failure, but I don’t. It was a beautiful experience. It isn’t a question of if I’ll try again, but when.

—lmp

* I say “first time” although I went once in Australia way back in 2003. I don’t count that. It was too long and too short a session to have any meaningful impact.

** Don’t get mad if you’re from Huntington Beach. I don’t take sides in the rivalry about which city is the ‘real’ surf city. In my book, they’re both in California and that is all that really matters: California is Surf City