Throughout 2019 (for reasons I won't go into) I started to suffer from spiralling bouts of anxiety of varying levels often followed by a bluesy depression and self doubt this would switch off my creative spark. I'd spoke to people about surfing before and decided to start the wheels turning to give it a go, saving a little cash to buy a second hand surfboard which i found on Facebook Marketplace, and a cheap wetsuit (which i thought was awesome at the time, looking back this wasn't the case) i started gradually improving my equipment, adding in warm boots and gloves and a balaclava type thing/surf hood as the months progression and as the temperature dipped each with every month, the colder it got the bigger the reward.
I found each time I decided to go surfing (some points during summer this would be every day!) my symptoms would subside temporarily, as I started the routine of filling up the van with boards and wetsuits etc, checking all the gear was present, and heading over the car congested flyover, out of Gateshead and down the coast road, breaking free into Tynemouth sometimes in the summer mornings then winter afternoons/evenings. I'd pull up on the bank at Tynemouth Longsands alongside the other surfers (some newbies, mainly intermediates and beyond) and swimmers on a morning (these don't generally wear wetsuits as they power through the icey waters), get changed into my gear, go get a parking ticket, wax up the board frantically as not to waste time or waves, survey the waves for a while and head out into the non-tropical North Sea waves hoping to catch anything that comes in my direction (true sign of a surf novice) until my energy eventually runs out, then shower off my board, push up the hill with a huge grin on my face, maybe say hello to other surfers and ritualistically get changed in the back of my cramped Citroen Nemo as the endorphins started to rush through my veins and head towards Tynemouth Village for an incredible Chip Stottie from Longsands Fish Kitchen (This is the reason i'm not ripped or sporting a sixpack... really!) and a Mocha at Coast until I regained the feelings in my hands. 1 - 2 hours of uninterrupted mindfulness amongst the cold waves between the beach and the sky, no phones, no worries and certainly no hassle. Nothing short of perfection.
Through my chunky thirties I've struggled to get lean, with a dad-hunch and pot belly to match it's took just 6 months of surfing and my back has straightened, i've lost a nearly a full stone in weight and built some nice upper body strength which in turn has improved my mental state, I still get anxious and sometimes I feel a bit down, but at least I now know where the off switch is!
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