Ever since I was a kid, I spent my summers on the beach at the Jersey Shore. Back in the day, my cousins, my sisters, and I would spend hours on end at the beach (all rocking Target’s latest Roxy collection, of course) digging for sand crabs, boogie boarding in the ocean, and eating fries in hot, sandy ketchup. Mm!
Fast forward 20 years and here I am married to a man who calls Lake Michigan an ocean and eats his fries with mustard. Joshua is from the Midwest (Chicago to be exact) so oceans aren’t exactly his cup of tea. In fact, it’s one of the only things that really scare him. In some ways, I understand where he’s coming from. There’s something about big bodies of water that makes you feel small and helpless. I mean, it’s why oceans are literally the basis of the game “Would You Rather” (if you haven’t asked someone if they’d rather be stranded in the middle of the ocean vs. somewhere else than I’m putting you in the mustard psychiatric ward with Joshua).
That being said, Joshua and I made an agreement before this trip that no matter how scary, we’d try to say yes to as many new experiences as possible. For me, that meant driving on highways (I’ve had my license for six years now, so what?) and for Joshua that meant swimming in the ocean. When my sister-in-law’s boyfriend Josh offered to teach us how to surf during our stay in LA, you can only imagine how excited Joshua was.
The day started out with some jitters as expected. The plan was to meet Rebecca and Josh at Malibu Lagoon State Beach where Josh would give us a basic tutorial on surfing—poor guy. We both felt nervous but we knew it would be worth the laugh. Once we got there we immediately began gearing up. In that moment, two things became very clear to me: 1) We’ve eaten one too many pretzels on this trip and 2) Today was going to be hilarious.
Before we got into the water, Josh did a quick training session with us on the sand. He demonstrated how to paddle, stand up, dive into a crashing wave, etc. At one point, we asked him if surfers really stick out their pinky finger and thumb to wave to one another. Josh said no and continued to acknowledge that his respectability at this surf spot was most likely going to take a hard hit after today’s lesson. Rebecca sat this one out so when the time came, Joshua, Josh, and I started making our way into the water.
In order to get into the water, we first had to make it past a patch of rocks. Okay no problem, we thought. No, my friends. Yes problem. Yes problem indeed. Every last inch of the ground was covered in sharp rocks, seashells, and coral. We were to walk barefoot on what felt like a bed of nails all while holding a board that we were barely able to carry on the soft sand. What Josh usually does in 5 minutes, ended up lasting 30 minutes. I wish I was kidding but it was seriously one of the most painful and frustrating experiences of my life. (Have I sold you on surfing yet?)
Once we got closer, Josh took us in one by one. Joshua went first (the same logic of why he goes first on our hikes in case of bear sightings was applied here but with sharks) and paddled out to the safe-zone (the calmer water where you can avoid crashing waves) where he was instructed to wait while Josh would go back to get me. I’m seriously chuckling while writing this because of how funny this must have been for Josh. Here’s my sister-in-law’s boyfriend who I’ve only met two times before this day, essentially carrying me (a 24 year old WOMAN) because I couldn’t manage to stand up by myself. I wish I had a picture but no joke the water was only up to my ankles at this point, my board is dragging behind me like dead weight, my wet suit is hanging like a pair of drop crotch pants, and I’m stubbing every single one of my toes on sea shells every other second. The thought literally makes me laugh out loud. It was the truest form of bonding and embarrassment that I‘ve ever experienced all at once.
I’m not sure how but Josh managed to get me on my board and into the water. Okay this should be easier, I thought. Not exactly. As I paddled my way to the safe zone, my body literally went into fight or flight mode. The waves weren’t even that big but I felt like if I wasn’t punching the water at 100mph than I’d be devoured into the abyss. Luckily, I was able to flap my way to calm water where I could take a breather and relax. Now, I thought, the three of us could begin. Well, that was the plan until we realized Joshua was nowhere to be seen.
He should have been waiting for us but not knowingly, he paddled out way further than instructed. I could tell Josh was a little nervous but he played it cool and instructed me to stay put while he went to retrieve my husband. Like I said in the beginning— poor guy. When we all united, Josh admitted that he’d never seen someone paddle out so far and that he was in fact a little nervous. Joshua was a little shaken up at first but he laughed it off pretty quickly.
The next hour or so was basically us drifting off away from each other, screaming to Josh “IS THIS THE SAFE ZONE?!” And yes, we were exclusively in the safe zone but we needed constant reassurance we weren’t going to die. We did almost surf though (emphasis on almost). And when I say we, I mean Joshua came really close to standing up on a wave this one time. Strangely, every time Joshua tried standing up, I’d fall down. I’d be sitting on my board doing absolutely nothing and all of a sudden I’d just plop off. Plop.
Josh kept apologizing for the inconsistency of the waves and Joshua and I would play it off like we weren’t ecstatic by the lack thereof. “Oh yeah man such a bummer… Ugh I wish I that wave was better… Gnarly dude” (not a single one of these words were spoken). Eventually, the lack of waves gave us a reason to head back. Let me just say that paddling takes so much out of you. It takes an incredible amount of strength and you’re never as close to shore as you think you are. At first, Josh suggested a longer route that would take us to a less rocky area than before but Joshua and I were so eager to get back that we idiotically convinced ourselves that the rocks wouldn’t be that bad.
And so, for the second time, we spent 30 minutes cursing our heads off, walking over sharp razor blade rocks. This time was so bad that Josh (this godsend Aquaman superhero— not my husband Joshua, the other Josh) just took the board from my hands so that I could focus on my footing. But not even that was enough. To help ease the pain, Joshua and I decided to lay back on our boards and started paddling over the 1inch deep rocky water. At this point, Josh just started pushing us to shore. There was no longer anything that could make me feel embarrassed in front of this man. He’d seen it all.
We finally made it past the rocks (all with cuts and bruises to show for it) and kissed the sand below our feet. We ran back to Rebecca, eager to tell her all of our funny stories. As we ripped the wetsuits off of our bodies (100% okay with the fact that we’d probably never put one of these on ever again), Josh decided to go back in the water. I guess pushing two adults on surf boards over rocks didn’t do it for him.
As fun of a day as it was, Joshua and I agreed that surfing is probably not in our future. Josh was an amazing and incredibly patient instructor but I just don’t think it’s in our cards. And while that may be true, ever since that day, we keep finding ourselves asking each other the same question: “Would you rather be surfing or…”
