Surf

The calm between the crests provides you with a chance to catch your breath until the next wave of punishment. The ocean water is cold even in your wet suit as you paddle , slow at first, then fast to try to to catch the falling wall of crashing water. You get up on the board, faltering just for a second, but finding your balance. As you stand, you look to the your sides and you see white foam spewing towards the beach, taking you along for the ride. It's exhilarating, this feeling. Near the end of the ride, your tired body makes a minute mistake and you fall into the water.

You get back up. You're exhausted, but you aren't done. You look out to the horizon and see more waves coming in, beckoning you to ride them one last time. So you paddle again, exerting twice as much effort to get back out there than it takes to come to shore. Cold water laps your face, but you do not shiver. You just think of catching the next wave, and even though you know that you'll be sore as death tomorrow, you don't care. There is only the surf.