The yoga class was about to begin. I was sitting, calm, balanced, emptying my mind, ready for 90 minutes of great yoga, when the thought exploded in my head: "You missed a session at the Bowl!" CD had texted me to come, but I was in the city.
I told myself to let it go, to accept that I can not make every session (ie that I am not the Wolf). But it sat there in the front of my mind. Waves, wind. I crave a good wave session. I crave a mediocre wave session! Please just get me back out there! Anyhow finally the class began and I was able to suppress thoughts about what I'd missed.
This morning Scott brought the bad news: "4.7-5.3 from 10-2 low tide & 3-6ft. Fisherman, the Wolf, Frank & myself. CD showed up without gear....and it was 45 degrees! Very smooth conditions."
In otherwords, my sweet spot. I'd have rigged the 5.3, listened to the Wolf praise the smoothness, followed Fisherman (who pursues the best waves even if it means Walking Back) listened to Scott's chimp cackle as he scored big outbound air, and ribbed CD for his lack of equipment. It would have been perfect.