Every time I go on vacation where there's a beach good for surfing, I tease Jacob that I'm going to flirt with all the surfer boys.
He knows I'm completely lying, of course.
(And even if I wasn't, it's not like the surfer boys would have anything to do with me. They are all incredibly in shape.)
This was the first time I ever actually saw any surfer boys.
They had their boards in hand and were running to the beach.
I imagined it had to be like what goes on here whenever the weather is benevolent: call in sick to take advantage of it. Here, it's whenever there's a decent snowfall near the ski resorts. There, it's whenever the wind is blowing just right to provide the right-size waves.
This photo is dark because it was near the end of our requisite visit to the time-share resort (yes, it was beachfront, and yes, it was gorgeous) and the wind was (obviously) picking up, the clouds were rolling in, and the day was cooling off.
Honestly, though, a few years ago I wanted to learn how to surf. I'd say it was about six years ago. I'd learn how to snowboard, first, obviously. It's closer to home. I even went so far as to research the cost of boards and how long it needed to be. I knew where I was going to buy a board from. I'm not sure why I abandoned the idea. Maybe because it was around that time that my health issues started kicking in and I started to gain my weight back. I figured that surfing (and snowboarding) could help me lose the weight, but I wasn't going to look foolish whilst weighing what I did and "wasting time" up on the mountain.
I'm pretty sure that's what it was.
That's the reason I am not pursuing it now, anyway; that's what I just justified in my head.
Maybe someday I'll re-pursue it.
I do so love the beach.