Sunday morning ritual

Does your church involve sand? Mine does. Surfing in Pacifica is my new Sunday morning ritual.

Today, I stood on the eight-foot board twice. Once, I rode in for a few seconds. The other time, I made an immediate splash, if you catch my drift.

The rest of the time, I repeatedly worked on getting up on the board. And I body surfed the big waves while waiting for the ones that were small enough for me to ride. Every minute was exhilarating. There was endless joy in the effort.

Last Sunday, I learned that if you bring your wetsuit and cap inside to rinse them in the shower après surf, you get a bathtub full of sand.

So here are my wetsuit, cap, booties (purchased last week after last Sunday’s freezing walk into the water), and onesie (an under-layer I forgot to bring last week, which makes wetsuit changes easier and adds warmth) on my deck, waiting for me to hose them down before I will allow them inside.

This week, I’ll buy neoprene gloves. My instructor lent me a pair this morning, and between those, my booties, my wetsuit, my onesie, and my cap, I didn’t feel cold for even a moment today.

And I learned the best way to bring the board and myself over the waves I don’t take, so I consumed far fewer mouthfuls of water this morning.

Last Sunday, the surf school moved my 8:00 a.m. lesson to 10:00. Today, I got to go out at 8:00 a.m., and it was a lot less crowded. There were still many surfers out, but we had the run of our little area. I am so grateful for that.

Can’t wait to find out what I’ll learn next week.

— in San Francisco, California.