I am craving surfing. Craving surfing. During a massage the other day I flipped over onto my belly half-way through as instructed, and I found myself pushing up with my palms and toes, making sure I was exactly centered on the table. After I carefully lowered my body, I held my arms up just a second to see if I was balanced. Like I do on my board.
It's unsurfable out there, and I should know: I'm checking the report three times a day, just in case. I'm in terrible shape -- the subtle cut of my shoulders that I noticed after Costa Rica has gone soft. I've finally gone running again and my thighs feel like knives are splitting them in two every time I move. I'm not ready to surf even if the ocean was ready to have me.
But I hope it's ready soon.