Yes, I’m in love. And it’s one of those loves that just grow better instead of slowly blending with monotony. It still strikes me how I feel the day I’ve surfed. I’m just happy. Everything looks better. Life looks better. Even if it was awful, who cares, I’ve surfed. I may have been cold, I wiped out, I didn’t catch that perfect wave… Anyway, I surfed.
It fills me with joy. May it be too presumptuous to attribute such a big influence that a sport is to my life? Well, maybe.
If someone had told me, when I was younger, that I’d become a surfer, (because no matter what level I have or achieve, I consider myself a surfer girl) I would not believe it. Not that I wasn’t an active or sportive girl. But I had not much interest in sport further than having fun or doing it because it was good.
Surfing is a different world. It’s not doing sport. I would do sport in order to get fit for surfing. Surfing feels like a real passion. It’s something I want to keep doing for the rest of my life, preferably every day. I don’t care if it’s not my work, I don’t care if I cannot get to the awesomest waves around the world. I just mind surfing as often as possible.
I want to slide down the face of the wave, touch the swirling water, ride the lip, turn around… feel the drops in my face, salty hair and lips, skin softened by the sun… And a bit of fear, tiredness and falls, rolling underwater…
It is just pure fun, it is pure love.