For anyone against trampolines here is a TRUTH BOMB...my sons have been on this for 3hrs today, instead of asking to watch shows or play video games on the tablet...they insisted on going on the trampoline, @amyboyle came home from work & first thing they wanted to do was go play again...let that soak in for a bit 🤔🤔🤔 #stayactive#love#mywhyisworthit#blessed#thesedudes#pic2isEPIC
Until yesterday, I hadn’t really surfed for almost 4 months. Twice in San Diego but my knee hurt each time a wave tossed me even a little so I was more existing in the water.
As soon as I caught my first wave in summer 2016, the stoke over took me. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced. Like nothing in the world matters—complete joy. The sensation and thrill of paddling out, crisp water on me, unsure if I’ll catch the most glorious wave ever or if Mother Ocean will gobble me up, sending me crawling to shore in fear. That uncertainty is part of the chase. I’m not even THAT great—I can hold my own. But I love it either way.
With a knee brace on, I weaved through the half-mile-long jungle path from the main highway in Punta Mita toward La Lancha, my favorite surf break in the area, and I could feel the excitement and fear bubbling up.
I’ve been trying so hard to patiently allow my MCL to heal—no jumping, running, skating, surfing, even took a cortisone shot in desperation. And by trying I mean doing as little as I can with still doing a lot—just different things—It’s almost impossible for me to truly rest.
My knee the past week in Mexico has felt quite good. Sturdy. But the unknown of into what I was about to paddle, the memory of snapping it again like under the wave in Ecuador—I couldn’t deny the fear.
So I started repeating to myself out loud: “You are strong, you are powerful, you are safe. You are strong. You are powerful. You are safe.” Over and over until I reached the sandy beach where the jungle path opens wide and reveals a secluded oasis of a dozen surfers.
I paddled, (careful of my hurt right shoulder because I’ve over compensated in my arms while trying to heal my knee), and felt like you do when you hop right back on a bike. An ease, like you had never stopped. “You are strong. You are powerful. You are safe.”