I want to feel cold ocean water on bare feet.
I want to feel the stretch of my body reaching forward with both arms knee paddling.
I want to feel the slow-motion lift of my board as a roller picks me up.
I want to feel the doubt that the board will complete the bottom turn in time to make it into that first sections.
I want to feel the acceleration through a steep section.
I want to feel my feet step along the wax bumps.
I want to feel the sun in my eyes, glistening off the smooth ocean surface.
I no longer own that board.
I no longer live at the beach.
I no longer have time off in the middle of the day during the work-week.
I no longer know every beach bum by sight, and many by name.
I have a career.
I have a child, wife, family.
I have small boards that represent the pinnacle of my abilities before my life changed.
I have memories.
I have warm comfort.
I have responsibilities, and the rewards that follow living up to those responsibilities.
I will raise my child to be independent.
I will buy a board that reminds me of my youth.
I will find the time.
I will return to the ocean again.
I will feel the cold ocean water on my bare feet.
