The Comfort Zone

As per usual I woke up on my day off and I'd usually go out early and catch some waves but the UK is in a gutter media hyped gammon-frenzy over that bloody Storm called 'Ciara' which isn't even a proper name, Hurricane Gary sounds much more threatening but after researching there is a weird non-storm sized pocket over the Tyne Coast. I'd popped to the cafe where I work and just hung about feeling incredibly bored and restless as hell.

The Met Office had advised not to go out but I thought they'd just got it wrong today... It was warm, with a bit of very normal rain. I got home and decided to throw caution literally to the wind and head East to Tynemouth, it could have been a mass of awful white froth or as I expected it was a vision of clean but windy as hell (think of getting pressure washed in the chops at close range).

As per usual I parked up and almost handbraked the car into the parking bay with childish excitement, rapidly slid into my wetsuit like that bit on Wallace & Gromit, applied a li'l extra sexy wax to the board and walked/legged it to the midsection of the beach, and boy it was good!

Now usually i'd be a bit apprehensive, I have two kids and I have to try to keep the recklessness in check but I approach the beach and it was well busy from end to end. I got in, got on and caught some crackers, some of those walls of water were super daunting for a newb! I got out, walked 100 metres down the beach and decided to get back in, used my remaining energy, then got out walked 100 metres up the beach and got back in again, each time it was sweet!

So let's look at comfort zones, If I hadn't stepped out of the C.Z. today and wallowed under the grey clouds, I wouldn't have experienced some lush waves under some moody skies and a full rainbow arch. I'd have sat at home being distant, wishing I was surfing being all moody and no fun whatsoever, I also wouldn't have experienced the immense happiness as I stood besides the van looking back at the sea watching a red moon rise over the North Sea.

One of the comfort zones I overcome was making myself a target to surf through winter (all the way through and... enjoy it!) not only do I enjoy it, I actually love every single minute of it... The cold, the pushing through angry waves, the falls, the fear and the occasional epic progression points like a sweet pop-up or that feeling when it just clicks!

Rain Clouds Gather...

Everyone's left the house and i'm still laid in bed on my day off with Wilf the dog as a convenient hot water bottle replacement. I'm wasting time, I've even had a look on Magic Seaweed to see if it's worth the drive over to Longsands or South Shields and I decided if I pack the van up with gear I can decide a little later.

Today is a day I could REALLY do with a surf, but it looks a bit flat, there are black dots lining the lip of the sea but they seem to be sat waiting around for yonks. A grey cloud of self doubt hovers around me as I move around, questioning what am i doing with my life, am I gonna make things work at the café or is it a means to an end? (that sounds like an harsh/rash question to ask yourself but that's how my head operates at present) if I go surfing I'll get a couple of hours of free time to think clearly, reflect and calm my trademark hyperactive mind which in turn might provide some clarity or at least a break from all the perpetual uncertainty. As I write this i'm sat in Jesmond in a café then abruptly decided to head for towards my good friend - the sea.

Praia de Longsands on the Geordie Riviera

I hit the lip of Longsands just outside the Grand Hotel and see many unexpected lush waves, clean long and regular, totally unforecasted as I pull up there's Womp in his tiny Peugeot 106 crammed full of 'surf stuff' so we chat for a while then we head out together both opting for 'foamies' and quite frankly turns out to be an excellent choice filed under 'f' for fun, he encourages me with what he refers to as 'peer group pressure' to swim out further and the waves are incredible, easy to pick up, but last night I went to a circuit training class and I'm struggling to really 'pop' as my thighs feel like I've been holding the world on my shoulders... oh wait a minute!

Watching Womp

Last night I'd finally repaired my decaying winter wetsuit after relentlessly tolerated direct contact with the winter swell via a growing hole just above my derriere and low and behold it's worked and i'm surprisingly warm as well as saving £350 on a winter suit which I frankly don't have. Remember before when I talked about the grey cloud, well I don't! as I'm totally immersed in the North Sea, mentally, physically and spiritually having the time of my life. The only grey clouds are above and it's raining torrentially, on land this is not most people's idea of good weather but out here it's a thing of visual beauty.

So drenched i'd be better off in the sea

My arms soon don't have the strength to keep me in the deep so I call time, wave to the man and use my board like a bodyboard for a free lift to the shore. It's now that I realise it's actually raining cat's n' dogs, i'm soon wetter than when I was on the surfboard, but things feel good, I struggle to get dressed as my hands have turned into useless cold blue blocks and for a while sit listening to the very apt Bedouine in the van and prepare my journey back to the 'Eeeeeeed! (Gateshead to those that are curious!)