By the time I got out of hospital, I knew what I wanted. At first I had no idea what to do with this new information that was spinning around in my brain, everything had been so easy until then. I had never had to make an effort at anything, it was all way too easy.
All of a sudden nothing was going to be easy, everyone was telling me what I could not do. I was always good at sport, any sport really it just came naturally, but I had never made an effort to excel at anything, life was just too easy to have to try any harder.
I loved surfing, this I knew and it was now gone. Everyone insisted that I would never surf again.
I am not quite sure if this is a curse or blessing, but I do know one thing. I just hate it when someone tells me it cannot be done. I love surfing, it’s a feeling impossible to describe. It is not a sport, it should never have become a sport it is way more than that. It is a constant challenge an escape into the ocean, away from land and normal life. It is a fight to dominate if even for a few seconds an indomitable force, a never ending lesson in strength and humility. It is not a sport, it is way more than that.
By the time I left hospital I had a mission, I had focus.
it could be done, recovery complete. Long Beach 89.