By Morgan Sliff
147 days till summer sun and hot sand.
That being said, there is power in cold. Cold wakes you, heightens your senses, and whether you are freezing or not can be more of a mental battle than a physical one. I’ve come to love it — the way the chill in the air and the water makes my skin feel, and how I’ve learned to breathe deeper rather than letting the frigidness steal my breath away.
I know we’re not in mountains or surfing in New York, but the early mornings of mid-40 temps sure make a dent in motivation to get up and jump in an icebath when you’re tired, groggy, and have the option to stay snuggled in a warm bed. Sitting outside in a t-shirt, my hot breath making clouds, I embraced, accepted, and praised the cold and geared up for the surf hunt.
Pulling up to Knob Hill, I had warm air blasting (bad idea) and it made it more than difficult to get out of the car. I gazed at the waves for a bit, and thankfully some familiar faces prompted me to lift my back from the seat heater. Conversation with buddies, a phone call with Mike Purpus, step into an icy wetsuit, then down the endless stairs to the sea with big blue. I don’t like a disconnect of bare feet from wax and fiberglass, so being sans booties I crossed the prickly sand down to the waters edge. Even if your toes go numb, extra rubber on your feet can be an obstruction and feels foreign. The way your feet press against your board without a hindrance is magical, and sometimes worth a little pain for five seconds of purity and real connection with your surfstick (disclaimer: nothing against people who wear booties, warmth and being comfortable is also awesome).
My short sesh today — accompanied by a big fall, the wave contorting my body underwater and slamming me against the sand, and eventually looking for my hat for five minutes — was another experience in the books, and another chilly morning come and gone. While bobbing in the waves, the sun snatched some of the cold away and warmed my face, and that chilly morning took a turn for the best and became a warm and beautiful day.
I found my hat in the whitewater, made my way up the stairs, and on my way blue and I went, daydreams of summer crossing my mind, but daydreams of winter ever present.
