Blog time, bitches.
I'm finally in decent shape for me. Used as motivation a session I had in the spring where I could only shralp for 30 minutes, then half-assed it for another hour or so because I could barely paddle.
The waves were so sweet that day: shoulder-high, clean, warm clear water. Man I was bummed I was too fat and sorry to take part.
I vowed never again, and since have dropped 25 pounds to a svelte 170. Size 36 to 32. My sexiness rivals Punani's -- I'm way harier, and therefore more macho.
Aaaaaanyhoo...surfed Bill swell all day with no fatigue or soreness. Shalped Danny a couple weeks later and was tired and sore but raged much harder. With Bill I was picking waves; Danny was so good and clean I could take off on everything, and did.
Since then we haven't had much. One good mini-swell, then junk. Waves too small to surf, too big to fish.
Stuff on the horizon and I am ready to get after it. Even if it's wind-chop. Mmm, that chunky junk hittin' right in the trunk.
I got desires.