Doin What i Love

I got the call...or rather the text...that we were on for shooting in just two days. I'm learning that's how things work in this biz. Everything is last minute and you squeeze it all into one day. Since the content of the shooting right now is my training, for me, that meant surfing, paddling, working out and swimming all in one day. This was almost a week ago now and i'm still recovering, feeling the after affects of an insane day...and for an insane person to call a day insane tells you how beyond normal perception the level of exertion had to be.

The producers showed up at my place not early but not late, about mid morning. We discussed the plan, they played around with the equipment (which the technology of blows my mind) and we began shooting promptly. First priority on the shot list was surfing and everything involved,  so after a few life b-roll shots, they captured me loading my big ass board into my 4-Runner and we were down at the beach pretty quickly. The day before, the surf was overhead and the dark sky swirled around. Now, not even 24 hours later, the small surf gently lapped the shore and the sun warmed everything. Much different. Not exciting surf conditions, but perfect light for our project.

Now, i can get my board to and from the water completely solo, but it doesn't happen very often. On a given day, i show up at the beach and 90% of the time some benevolent stranger grabs my board for me. That's the beauty of Cardiff...the people. This day, although i was surrounded by film crew, we were documenting my lone plight to and from the water so no help whatsoever. Depending on the tide, getting down to the water involves a few hundred bar dips. Now, add weight. Dragging the board is a whole other ball game. Especially, when i get down to the sticky wet sand. Like i said, i got this. No big deal, but in a given day that's it. I do that and i'm done. Hot shower, lunch and maybe a nap. No cycling, pull-ups and swimming after. This day meant all the above. You see where this is heading?

The water always feels refreshing at first touch. It covers my hands as i maneuver over the sand and instant excitement always rushes through me no matter what the conditions. I love the ocean. This session was fun and mellow. Small playful waves and the comforting warmth of the sun making it all that much nicer. A telephoto lens on the shore and a waterproof camera at the break captured it all. Even my first little lipper i've ever done since sitting down out there. My roommate and i took off on a waist high right together and as it closed out between us i thought 'I want to put my board up on that lip.' So i did. I bottom turned, propelled my board up the wave and the crashing whitewater rebounded me back into it. After the reentry, the left reformed and i rode it almost all the way to the sand smiling. My first lipper as a butt boarder. It feels good to be getting better.

We shot some paddling, some wipe outs in the shore break and then the hike back up the beach. I feel like a sea turtle inching along. Only i don't have any eggs to lay, just a seriously large board and an unshakeable resolve to get from point A to B regardless. After a hot shower and lunch it was time to head to the gym. Physically, i was spent already, but didn't say anything. This had to be done.

The first shots at the the gym were of the stationary hand bike. I love this thing. Honestly, i call it the lab rat cycle. That's how i feel. Everyone stares and the fluorescent light blares down. Its not inspiring to me, but it is my version of a pure workout. I always talk about the simplicity of throwing on running shoes and heading out the door. That's beauty and i miss it sometimes. Everything involves massive gear and a shit load of preparation, except this. I roll up and start cranking. Simplicity returns.

Now, the director wanted me red faced, sweating and grunting so although i wasn't supposed to get a workout doing this, we turned up the intensity to get it right. After 25 minutes or so, they got the shots and i got tired. Next came pull-ups. Yikes. "Really guys?" Yes, this was happening. After 50 or so pull-ups they got the shots and i wanted to collapse into a little ball in my mommy's lap, but did my best to keep my composure. I might have been tired, but i has happy. Stoked as could be filming what i believe to the purpose for my little life here on this Earth. Fueled by passion, i gritted my teeth and we headed out to the pool to film some laps. I had a little left in the tank still.

At first, i was disappointed because it was now late in the day, the sun was setting and i felt the light was no longer good. Not only that, but the pool was full of people and commotion and i thought the producers would be bummed. A water polo game, shrill whistles, crowd noise, an obnoxious father, swim lessons, lap swimmers, nervous mothers, old men in speedos, lifeguards switching shifts...it all seemed overwhelming, but once the pool lights flicked on the shot became me doing my thing at all hours in the midst of it all. Brilliant.

One producer was in the water with me and i felt as if we were dancing. We've shot together quite a bit now and work really well together. He bosses me around and i like it. No questions. No bullshit. I get clear direction from him and know exactly what he wants. He doesn't need to make it flowery and nice for me and i respect that. This was different though. We were in the silent water passing smoothly within millimeters seamlessly anticipating the other's intentions. I loved it. I'm not gonna lie though. My left arm did not like it. It got very angry and was screaming at me to stop. This was very close to my threshold. By the time we finished, i could barely lift myself out of the pool and the hot tub never felt better.

From there, the crew setup a makeshift studio at my place where we collected some VOs and filler shots. A hot spicy chai giving me a slightly rejuvenated edge, just enough caffeine to be dynamic in front of the camera despite my affliction with a nearly comatosed state.

All-in-all, the day was a success and i'm excited to see the teaser edit when its all finished. It should gain tons of support for the Drop In Project. To read more check out www.facebook.com/dropinproject. Like it if you like it and spread the word.

Thanks for being interesting and staying interested. Ski ya later!

Cardiff-by-the-Sea

My summer began in June when i decided to sleep in my buddy's garage in Cardiff, a bustling little surfer town in North County San Diego. We arranged his things, hung sparkly wall coverings and put down a nice rug to make it more homey, homie. Of course, this ambienced shed had an ocean view and a bathroom. Niice!!! I could urinate and look at the ocean. Many sleepy afternoons were spent watching whales pass by in the distance without even lifting my head from the pillow. Pretty damn sweet spot...even for a garage.

The shower was being used as storage though, so for the first month or so, i showered at the beach, gym and friends houses. Sometimes i would sneak into the campground across the PCH after the guards left for the night for a quick rinse. Remove the shower from your house and guaranteed any fresh water hitting your body feels ten times better. Funny how taking something so simple away creates so much appreciation for it. I try to imagine my life without things like that once in awhile...running water, a refrigerator, my car, legs...just to remind myself to be thankful. I forget. We all do.

Garage or not, i lived the dream this summer...surfing almost every day, enjoying the sun, surviving on nothing and simply bouncing from moment to moment. What a life! I figured out how to get across the sand solo with my big ass board and that changed everything. I could now just go surfing without texting and tweeting and facebooking and harrassing everyone in sight to help me. Autonomy.

This is a monumental transition for me which i can only just begin to explain. Surfers will somewhat understand because they know the power of the ocean...especially if they've grown up with her...but the depth of the pain while sitting and watching is unexplainable. The ocean called and i was driven to answer. The difference this summer? I opened my mind.

It's a matter of simple physics. Wheels and sand don't mix. Now, all of a sudden, fighting to push my chair through the sand and thinking i needed some expensive elaborate contraption or a grueling piggyback ride from a tired friend became obsolete with a simple, yet powerful, thought. Why does any place need to be "wheelchair" accessible? I have arms. I can get anywhere i want to. Why does my chair need to go? A seemingly simple concept, but for some reason i was blind to it for ten years. So i left my chair behind...and my life changed.

A couple very simple devices changed everything too. A minimalist wheelie cart got my big ass board from the car to the sand and a quick releasable fin enabled me to drag it through the sand and paddle out from the shallows. Thats it. I'm surfing solo.

I kind of lost sight of things for a little while there, but the ocean runs through my veins and a hug from her reminds me of who i'm meant to be. Being close to her this summer brought me home. What a summer! Do what you love.

To Blog or Not to Blog

What? No cool pictures? What the heck?

i know. i hear you.

In all honesty, i love the recognition of sharing photos and stories of myself living the adventure, doing things that most for some reason do not. It feels good. However, that is not why i share. i use the most powerful tool at our disposal (social media) to somehow spark a glimpse of inspiration in the masses...in you. Not that you necessarily need it, or that i'm "special" or "worthy" in any way, but that is the underlying motivation for sharing because simply being exposed to someone else's initiative, regardless of whatever his or her set backs may be (because we all have something holding us back) seems to naturally ignite the same initiative in ourselves. The key word is 'initiative' because the tendency to choose comfort over adventure is in us all. Well, it comes to me in all decisions in every day life and i can only assume we all face the same propensity. Some days are easier. Some are more difficult. i go through fazes myself, but when i do find myself choosing The Adventure (let's give it a fun name), i find my friends choosing it with me. It is contagious and for some reason, sometimes we need a little kick to get out of bed earlier or go for that run in the rain so hopefully my strong days procreate something that helps someone in their day of struggle and vise versa.

Consequently, i share those exciting moments with you and relish in the cursory benefit of your figurative applause, but have balked at doing this blog thing more because i fail to find my "real" life important enough to share. Everyone seems to have a blog these days, writing to the cloud of perpetual non subscribers, and so far i have not deemed anything "unsensational" in my life as any differnt. Although many have asked for it, an effort to build familiarity with my voice and ritiualistically rev your engine on my writing to build anticipation for the release of my books, you can see my last blog came out over five months ago. The culprit: my ego and the prototypical insecurities.  When considering sharing more, these types of thoughts arise: "You have nothing to offer,""You are not the man you say you are," and "Why would anyone care anyway?" So, i find comfort in the words of William Zinsser:

"There are many good reasons for writing your memoir that have nothing to do with being published. One is to leave your children and grandchildren a record of who you were and what heritage they were born into. Please get started on that; time tends to surprise us by running out."

Am i worthy of a blog and will anyone subscribe? Am i Hank Moody incarnate? Is this Hell A Magazine online? Well, i am not a self-loathing alcoholic with no semblance of self-control ALL the time (some x-girlfriend's may disagree), but i do share the entertaining character's affinity for "the written word" and undying chivalry. It would be nice, like him, to someday be recognized in book stores, not by a 16-yr-old who wants to seduce me and punch me in the face...that would be bad...but, as a talented writer with swagger whom people just seem to be drawn to.

In the ensuing months, i am confident that what i have to share will change many lives. i am worthy because i am human. i promise not to listen to my insecurities and to just share. Maybe you will be inspired. Maybe you will laugh. Maybe you will cry. Maybe you know someone who could benefit from my perspectives. Maybe you will be driven to ask yourself some difficult questions, but at the very least, i plan on living the rest of my life on the edge and sharing it with you could possibly make for a good read.