It takes real bravery to surf the big waves, along with intense mental preparation and a finely tuned athletic training program.

Or so I’ve learned from catching snippets of surfing shows on TV over the years. 

For my maiden voyage on a surfboard last week, I chose waves that were more like knee-high. I rented a board that was as stable as a school bus, and signed up for a lesson from a kid named Prima, who was enthusiastic to a fault.

It’s more work than it looks like, and uses a bunch of muscles from all the exercises I tend to avoid. Nonetheless, with calm waters, a giant barge of a board, and a little push from my teacher, I was able to get up quite a few times and float sedately toward shore. 

Er, that is, I ignored the storm and shot the monster curls mere inches above the razor-sharp coral, pursued by sharks, laughing while the National Police wrung their hands and lamely tried to guide me in toward safety.

Pretty gnarly, dude!

o