One More Wave

The day before I got married in 1986, my brother who was also my best man, went surfing with me. It was a glorious day at Waddel Creek, a few miles north of Santa Cruz, CA. The sky was blue, the wind gently offshore. The waves were moderate and well formed. We caught lots.

It didn’t occur to me, when I took a toilet break and had the runs, that I shouldn’t have been in the water to start, and it was clearly time to get out. But there was surf and my favorite surf partner was with me, if only for one short outing. So I continued, as my throat felt more ragged, as my lungs started to warm toward a burn.

This past week, some 29 years later, I was fighting a cold. It’s been nagging since I returned home from our three week east coast swing back in October. The waves here have been huge. Way too big for me, but on Tuesday it settled down. I hit the surf, caught a couple of little waves and felt unusually fatigued. But there were still waves so I stayed out. The tide was receding, the offshore wind increasing, and when I finally decided to quit, it was difficult to paddle in. I managed to find the shore and stumbled to my car.

Today my cold is much worse. My body is begging for rest. But I have one more thing to do before I can take a break.

Written in response to the Daily Prompt: Flawed

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