Have you ever fallen so hard some for something that all you want to do is dive in head first and immerse yourself in it? Like fully immerse yourself that you can’t breathe? That makes you courageous and willing to try things you never thought you would?
For me, that’s what it felt like when I found surfing two years ago. It made me grin stupid grins – grins that I couldn’t wipe off my face. It helped me find pure joy. It was like finding this bright light that helped me see things differently and gave me perspective. It helped me move forward in areas where I was stuck. I mean, I started this blog because of surfing.
I know that it sounds dramatic – silly even – to describe a sport like this. After all, I’m a beginner at best but I can’t help it. When I think about surfing, something just bubbles up inside me.
So when I walked out of my doctors office last week with the door half closed on the possibility of surfing again? I left with a nervous laugh and a twisted knot in my stomach.
In general, almost a year after my surgery, my knee looks fine. It’s more a matter of how my ligament has healed and the nature of the sport of surfing.
My ligament is looser than my doctor would like it to be, which means that anything that requires a lot of lateral stabilization may place my knee at risk whereas things like running, cycling and swimming are fine. And surfing not only requires a lot of lateral stabilization, but also takes place in an unpredictable environment (moving water, currents and tides) that can be pretty powerful.
If my doctor didn’t know me (he’s good friends with my sister), he probably would have given me a firm answer – No. But he didn’t want to close the door on something that I enjoy doing.
“That is why we decided to do the surgery in the first place – so that you can continue to do the things that you want to do. We can always fix is again.”
As I left his office, all I could think was, “It’s not fair.” I felt like my kids, repeating those words over and over and over again until they became white noise in the background, except that I was repeating them to myself in my head. I felt robbed that I found surfing later in life, robbed that I only had a chance to enjoy it for less than a year before hurting myself.
I tried my hardest to focus on being grateful instead of the “not fairs.”
- I’m grateful to have discovered surfing.
- I’m grateful for having learned a new sport.
- I’m grateful for the lessons that it taught me.
- I’m grateful for the presence of mind it has given me.
- I’m grateful for the renewed connection to the ocean.
- I’m grateful for that feeling of pure bliss of riding a wave.
- I’m grateful for two amazing weeks in Costa Rica.
- I’m grateful for the friends that I’ve made through surfing.
Even as I recited this list, I still felt the tears forming behind my eyes and I sought solace on my yoga mat – to breathe and immerse myself in a moving mediation. I needed to not think for an hour and a half.
While it’s not a definite no, in the end, it’s my decision to be smart/conservative or to continue to do something that I really really really enjoy. And I’m not sure what my decision will be.
In other news, I did a forearm stand in yoga class. So there’s that.