Because I'm a girl and a movie geek, everything in life relates back to one romantic comedy or another. There is a scene in Pretty Woman where Julia Roberts responds to receiving Richard Gere's credit card with a weary, "More shopping..." That is how I felt about surfing on Day 3.
On Day 2 I suffered a pretty terrible sophomore slump, with lots and lots of hits, bruises, swallowed saltwater and no getting up on the board. I have to admit the waves were breaking hard and quick and I waited too long to get past the break. Its all surf speak, but basically I psyched myself out and by the time I got over it the waves were too much for me to handle.
Day 3 came and I was weary to say the least. I wasn´t as physically sore as I thought I would be, but all of us have tons of bruises and small cuts both from the fins on our boards and the rocks on the beach. I decided to go past the break first thing, when the water would be more managable. It took me forever, fighting wave after breaking wave, swimming as hard and fast as I could until I FINALLY DID IT! All at once, I was out in the middle of the ocean! I basically sat out there for the next hour, congratulating myself until one of my instructors noticed I had yet to catch a wave. I half-way caught a little something - enough for me to be pretty pleased with myself, but apparently it was sheer luck because my form was lacking. I spent the next hour back in the inside (read: kiddie waves) with my 2 favorite instructors, where they retaught me the basics I had completely lost the day before and worked with me wave after wave until I ACTUALLY RODE A WAVE ALL THE WAY IN. I even had time to laugh and throw a hang 10 to the other students cheering me on. That´s all it took. I went out again and again, feverishly trying to catch that next wave (these are whitewater waves on "the inside", the fast, shallow waves that advance the beach after the actual Big Girl Waves crash. The big crashing waves are the ones you catch on "the outside" where you typically see surfers sitting on their boards in calm, peaceful water, looking for the next big one.)
Stella and Leslie were, of course, on the outside for most of Day 3 and did beautifully. Whores.
The three of us quickly adapted to our new routine. In bed usually by 830p - yes, really. We would joke about how our 6 year old friend Henry kept later hours than we did. Up around 7a, getting a serious night of sleep; coffee, small breakfast, outside with our surfboards by 745 or 8, fully lotioned and ready to hop in the van. Our surf instructors would drive us to either of 2 beaches: Dominicalito or Playa Hermosa. Swallow water, get new bruises, scrape something, curse, spit and blow snot for the next 2 hours. Maybe catch a wave or two (or more if you´re Stella...show-off). Back to the hotel, where the three of us would give the construction workers on-site a free show as we showered ourselves and our boards outside, and also compared new battle scars. Reapply sunscreen, devour the tropical fruit salad I would cut up every night, and then out to the pool for a few hours of reading and sun. After a while we would be starving or bored enough to go back to the room and nap, or walk around town (10 minute walk max - its a REALLY small town). OR we would grab our boards and head out to the surf in Dominical for a while to practice. By 4 or 5 we would walk to our favorite (really our only - we ate there 4 nights in a row) Thai restaurant, eat for a few hours, buy fruit for the next days fruit salad, and back home before we turned into pumpkins. No where in our routine was there time for make-up, deoderant, underware (beyond our bikinis I mean), or clocks (our joke of the trip "What time do you think it is?").
Here are a couple of pictures:
This is after Day 1 at our favorite restaurant. We all felt incredible! This is the first of many, many, many, huge, colorful bruises Stella got.
After our 2nd lesson our instructors took us to this gorgeous little waterfall, Pozo Azul. Everyone had had such a hard day fighting the surf, we LOVED the fresh cold water of the waterfall. There was also a rope swing I embarrassed myself on. Not really, but I haven´t bellyflopped like that since I was 7 or 8 years old - I crashed into the water so that afterward it felt like Rocky full on punched me in the face and I had sore ribs for days afterward.
Leslie and I in our kitchen preparing for the next morning. It´s probably 7pm and we´re both already in our pjs.
Leslie and I walking into town. My favorite part of this picture, besides the way my pretty skirt swings, are the 2 Ticos checking us out. It cracks me up.
On Day 2 I suffered a pretty terrible sophomore slump, with lots and lots of hits, bruises, swallowed saltwater and no getting up on the board. I have to admit the waves were breaking hard and quick and I waited too long to get past the break. Its all surf speak, but basically I psyched myself out and by the time I got over it the waves were too much for me to handle.
Day 3 came and I was weary to say the least. I wasn´t as physically sore as I thought I would be, but all of us have tons of bruises and small cuts both from the fins on our boards and the rocks on the beach. I decided to go past the break first thing, when the water would be more managable. It took me forever, fighting wave after breaking wave, swimming as hard and fast as I could until I FINALLY DID IT! All at once, I was out in the middle of the ocean! I basically sat out there for the next hour, congratulating myself until one of my instructors noticed I had yet to catch a wave. I half-way caught a little something - enough for me to be pretty pleased with myself, but apparently it was sheer luck because my form was lacking. I spent the next hour back in the inside (read: kiddie waves) with my 2 favorite instructors, where they retaught me the basics I had completely lost the day before and worked with me wave after wave until I ACTUALLY RODE A WAVE ALL THE WAY IN. I even had time to laugh and throw a hang 10 to the other students cheering me on. That´s all it took. I went out again and again, feverishly trying to catch that next wave (these are whitewater waves on "the inside", the fast, shallow waves that advance the beach after the actual Big Girl Waves crash. The big crashing waves are the ones you catch on "the outside" where you typically see surfers sitting on their boards in calm, peaceful water, looking for the next big one.)
Stella and Leslie were, of course, on the outside for most of Day 3 and did beautifully. Whores.
The three of us quickly adapted to our new routine. In bed usually by 830p - yes, really. We would joke about how our 6 year old friend Henry kept later hours than we did. Up around 7a, getting a serious night of sleep; coffee, small breakfast, outside with our surfboards by 745 or 8, fully lotioned and ready to hop in the van. Our surf instructors would drive us to either of 2 beaches: Dominicalito or Playa Hermosa. Swallow water, get new bruises, scrape something, curse, spit and blow snot for the next 2 hours. Maybe catch a wave or two (or more if you´re Stella...show-off). Back to the hotel, where the three of us would give the construction workers on-site a free show as we showered ourselves and our boards outside, and also compared new battle scars. Reapply sunscreen, devour the tropical fruit salad I would cut up every night, and then out to the pool for a few hours of reading and sun. After a while we would be starving or bored enough to go back to the room and nap, or walk around town (10 minute walk max - its a REALLY small town). OR we would grab our boards and head out to the surf in Dominical for a while to practice. By 4 or 5 we would walk to our favorite (really our only - we ate there 4 nights in a row) Thai restaurant, eat for a few hours, buy fruit for the next days fruit salad, and back home before we turned into pumpkins. No where in our routine was there time for make-up, deoderant, underware (beyond our bikinis I mean), or clocks (our joke of the trip "What time do you think it is?").
Here are a couple of pictures:
This is after Day 1 at our favorite restaurant. We all felt incredible! This is the first of many, many, many, huge, colorful bruises Stella got.
After our 2nd lesson our instructors took us to this gorgeous little waterfall, Pozo Azul. Everyone had had such a hard day fighting the surf, we LOVED the fresh cold water of the waterfall. There was also a rope swing I embarrassed myself on. Not really, but I haven´t bellyflopped like that since I was 7 or 8 years old - I crashed into the water so that afterward it felt like Rocky full on punched me in the face and I had sore ribs for days afterward.
Leslie and I in our kitchen preparing for the next morning. It´s probably 7pm and we´re both already in our pjs.
Leslie and I walking into town. My favorite part of this picture, besides the way my pretty skirt swings, are the 2 Ticos checking us out. It cracks me up.
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