The day dawned and the pain in my neck which has been plaguing me for about a month was undimmed. No matter. There would be waves at Spot G and I resolved to be amongst them by mid-morning.
My work (or some of it, at least) done, I sped westwards, packing my 9"1' and 6"9'. The latter was a self-delusional choice: I've been in such pain for my last four surfs that popping up on shortboards is not proving possible. Still, en route I could convince myself that I'm a shortboarder at heart who just happens to spend most of his time on a longboard, and that's precisely what I did, arriving at Spot G to see glorious lines and but a few people out. The left looked better than the right and I could discern that only two surfers were on it - Aerial Attack and Mr J. Asbo. After a quick chat with Mr Asbo's partner in the car park I strode down the cliff, longboard under my arm, thoughts of laceration in my mind.
It was here that the trouble started. I am currently suffering from a recurrence of a neck injury first acquired when snowboarding 12 years ago and since then perennially exacerbated by boxing. It's come on since hitting the flowboard ramp neck first and hard in Jersey a month or so ago, and as of a session at Sennen on Monday is now chronic. Anyone who has ever boxed, or taken a punch on the chin for the hell of it, will empathise: I have hideous shooting pains from my neck, down my spine, along my arms and all the way to the soles of my feet. My nervous system is totally awry, so much so that I have trouble walking and feel mildly groggy, as if I'd had a couple of pints at lunchtime. Walking down the cliff to Spot G I had a bit of trouble putting one foot in front of the other and it occurred to me that this was not the ideal state in which to be about to paddle out to head high surf.
I pressed on, with the determination of the deranged, and eventually found myself next to AA and Mr J. Asbo. However, the other consequence of this problem is extreme weakness. On land, my legs feel as if they've been running all day, and in the sea my biceps feel like leaden weights. I was, in short, shattered by the time I got to the line-up, not to mention under-confident about riding any waves.
Mr J. Asbo got some lovely left-handers further across the beach while myself and AA hung about in vain as the tide pushed in and the surf got fatter. I think AA got a few but on the first wave I paddled for my neck went into spasm. I felt as if I'd been hit by an electric shock and memories of 10 minutes of paralysis (which is what happened when I first injured the neck snowboarding) came flooding back. It struck me then that surfing through this level of pain is not only completely stupid but also irresponsible, in that I could quite easily provoke a rescue if I found myself without the use of my limbs or, in the less than appealing alternative, dead.
And so, dear reader, I proned in. On the beach I stood up and fell over, then had to sit down while my nervous system desperately tried to re-align itself. Climbing back up the hill was agony, so much so that when the incarnation of someone 500% fitter than me appeared at the top of the path (Stef Harkon, on his way for a surf), he looked at me and said: "Bloody hell, you look in a bit of pain - are you alright?"
Later I went to see my physio, the excellent Zelah. She listened, checked a few things and then told me that if I wanted to lose the use of my arms and legs I should continue surfing, because by so doing I stood a good chance of totally rupturing whatever it is that is currently all wrong in my spine. I thought this over for a while and have now concluded that this appears to be one injury that I am not going to be able to ignore. X-Rays and MRI scans loom but at least, as I write this, I can walk, albeit unsteadily, to the doctors' surgeries and hospital waiting rooms of West Penwith.
Is there a moral to this sorry tale? Possibly. Take your pick from:
1. Flowboarding is bad for your health.
2. Flowboarding is bad for the health of people over 40.
3. Boxing is bad for your health.
4. Snowboarding can be bad for your health.
5. Surfing through injuries is silly.
6. Seek medical advice if you experience any symptoms along the lines I've described.
But perhaps there is another moral. Next time you see someone make the walk of shame - the waveless trudge up the beach - give them a break. They might have had an off day, they might have remembered that they were supposed to be somewhere and had no option but to turn and paddle back in. Or, just possibly, they're in excruciating pain and they're cursing every single stupid sport they've ever done that's now threatening to ruin their love of surfing.
Recently myself, The Kid and Aerial Attack were in Whitby, where Brassy Lassy's photograph was taken. Those were the days. My neck only hurt a bit then.