Here I am again after a few weeks of radio silence. If anyone out there is still reading, apologies. This double identity as Cornwall Today editor and full-time freelance journo is pretty time-consuming.
Good news came my way in mid-March. Lou Poberskin, the neurosurgeon operated on my neck in December 2009, told me that though various problems remained I could crack on and start surfing again. He cautioned a 'mellow waves only' approach, but any wave is better than none and I was stoked to get the green light from a medico, some 16 months after my anterior cervical discectomy and fusion op.
Accordingly, I ventured to Sennen Cove and Spot G not with my two loyal hounds but with my knackered old K-bay 9"1' and a newly invigorated Harry (my elder son), himself stoked of late to find himself sponsored by Gul. I've surfed perhaps 10 times since the mid-March thumbs up, and it's been an interesting experience. One day at Spot G I had three head high right-handers that were among the best waves of my life, another at Sennen I surfed a couple of lefts that also rated very highly. A few sessions have been decidedly indifferent as I try to regain paddle fitness, some semblance of correct wave selection and general confidence. And today, and yesterday, and the day before, I had three of the worst surfs of my life. Some spinal cord compression is kicking around and my left leg is about 95% effective. It's fine for walking and even running, but foot drop occurs from time to time and it's on the wonky side. When it's like this, popping up is virtually impossible. If I was a goofty footer maybe it wouldn't be such a problem, but as a natural footer I found it, for the past three days' surfs, unbelievably difficult to force my left leg forward and onto the board as soon as I'd caught a wave.
Today, in fact, I was 'No Wave Wade'. Two hours of paddling and not a single wave ridden. Yesterday, I was 'Two Wave Wade', with three take-offs wholly aborted because I couldn't drive my left leg forward enough. And on Thursday, I was again a two wave Wade, with a series of disasters in between.
It's all very frustrating. I'm told I can surf again without fear of paralysis, so long as I take it easy; that seems a fair risk to me so I joyously return to the water. A couple of sessions are fantastic, and now this - a left leg that, at 95% effectiveness, is, and please excuse the term for I use it in its technical sense, spastic.
Trust me: having a spastic leg does not make for easy surfing.
Despite today's dismaying session, there are some positives. It's been great, these past six weeks, seeing so many familiar faces in the water. Aside from some sessions last summer, when I was definitely surfing against doctor's orders, I've barely been at my local breaks for 18 months. Returning and seeing everyone again is brilliant.
So, too, is surfing with Harry. He's as fluid and stylish as ever and pretty damn mature for a 15-year-old. Seeeing me struggling in the line-up today, he paddled over and encouraged me; afterwards, he quoted my words to him of a few years ago when he was learning to surf: "you can't have a good surf every time."
He's right. I just hope, though, that this left leg problem isn't permanent. If it is, it's very hard to see how I'll ever be up and riding again. Unless, that is, there is some kind of winch that could be deployed to haul me to my feet ...
Pictured: an image of futility and despair. But at least the sun is shining.
