By Jenni Lou Roberts
For The Jungle Gazette
I grew up in Minnesota. The land of 10,000 lakes with no waves. Water skiing in the summer and snowboarding in the winter was the rule, but there were no mountains. Eventually there was wakeboarding, but I had already moved on.
When I was in my early 20’s I was working for a pilates studio as their newest teacher. They had a retreat in Nosara, Costa Rica and they strongly encouraged me to come. I had never really left the country, except when my dad died in 1985. I was two years old then. He was from England, but he died in Minnesota. His family had a cemetery plot for him, so they offered to buy us one way plane tickets to attend the burial. We were stuck there for three months until they could afford to send us home.
When I arrived in Nosara it was unbelievable. I fell in love with the beauty. The ocean had been calling me and I finally was embraced by all its magic. I had a surf lesson with one of the locals at Nosara Tico Surf. He introduced me to the waves, something that Minnesotans know nothing about. I was taught the basics and understood the ideas but tired out so fast that it was hard to make my body do what was asked. By the second lesson he took me out past the break and with his help I caught one unbroken wave. This wave I will remember for the rest of my life. It brought me back to a pure joy that I had forgotten existed. The grown up mind has a way of stealing this feeling and replacing it with garbage. I cried all the way back to Minnesota, knowing that there was a place where it was summer everyday.
Every year I spent all my money returning to Nosara. I had more lessons with the same teacher. I fell madly in love with surfing, but our rendezvous were too fleeting. All year long I was obsessed with rekindling the experience and stoking the flame.
When I moved to Nosara in 2014 I surfed twice a day. I really began practicing everything I had learned over the years. I assumed I would be a pro in no time. After one broken leash I knew I would die out there if I didn’t manage my panic, so I signed up for swimming lessons. I could swim but had no stamina. In my first swim training I had a panic attack and remembered a time in my childhood when I fell off a boat in Lake Minnetonka before I knew how to swim. I immediately sunk straight to the bottom and was rescued by a stranger. Twice a week for years I took swim lessons with panic until one day I realized I enjoyed swimming and felt happy in the water.
In 2007 I started out as a longboarder, but when I moved to Nosara I decided very quickly that the short boarders were cooler. I spent years riding boards that were too small when I could have been surfing more. My paddling has never been powerful or fast. I am lucky if I catch anything, let alone know what to do when I’m standing up on the board. I still can’t say I can do a cutback or anything cool. But, I LOVE surfing.
It’s been an intense 10 year love affair with the ocean here in Nosara and I still barely understand what’s happening out there or what’s coming. I’m still so much more comfortable on my short board for easier duck diving and control. I am stuck in this pattern. Lazy.
I know what I need to do. The same as in life. It has been shown to me again and again. The real magic is in the discomfort. The beauty is in the learning. I must embrace my inner kook to let go of all I think I know, and create an opportunity to change. I have to surrender to win. I have to go with the flow. I have to begin again as a longboarder.
