If you know anything about the North Beach of Nazare Portugal you’d call me crazy for choosing this of all places to get back in the water.

I was a little scared and had no expectations other than getting annihilated and becoming the kook of the day. Yet, despite the lack of confidence in my surfing skills I really wanted to give it a try and at least make some improvements.

My friends and I drive a whopping 5 minutes to the beach from my apartment. We have our boards strapped to the top of the car, the wetsuits are in the back, the wax and GoPro are in my hands. The last time I tried to surf we went to a spot in town called Peniche where the waves were small and friendly, so small actually that I had a hard time catching one. Yesterday was a different story.

North Beach was described as "disappointingly small" according to my friend who goes for the 50 footers that awaken the coast during a decent swell.

One man’s trash is another (wo)man’s treasure- disappointing to him means perfect conditions for me and my crew.

The waves were a respectable 6-8 feet and no wind, giving us glassy little waves just big enough to toss us around when we wiped out.

As we wax our boards and try our best to get into our wetsuits with as much grace as possible- which as always isn’t much- I’m mesmerized by the shore break. Some of the waves double up and are an easy 6 feet right before crashing into the sand with a loud roar. I’m supposed to get through that before I face the inside. Ah, the inside, where no one really wants to be, yet that’s the place that proves your endurance and drive. It can be a gauntlet especially at North Beach if the current is strong. Depending on the direction it can take you straight into the rocks, it can send you out to sea or keep you stuck in one place, keeping you from getting further out past the breaking waves while at the same time prevent you from being able to return to the safety of the sand- in that case you’re the lucky S.O.B. who gets wave after wave on the head.

Luckily since yesterday was a “small” day, that meant the current was also weak so I could cross that off my list of worries.

Alright, my board is waxed, my spring suit is on and my leash is securely strapped to my ankle, the only thing left to do is time the entry right by running into the water just after the wave rushes in, stick myself to my board, put my head down, ankles up and start paddling. I aim for the sad excuse of a channel, where the waves aren’t breaking and pray that the wave of the day doesn’t come rolling in and send me back to where I started. Nazaré doesn’t offer much of a channel no matter how small the waves are. I make it past the impact zone and thanks to my not-so-new gym routine I’ve got plenty of energy and strength left in my arms/shoulders to manage a decent paddle session.

It didn’t take long for me to get all giddy like a child. I was reminded once again why this thing called surfing inspires people so much and for so long. Seeing the wave you want, heading right at you, making the decision to go for it, paddling as hard as you can, feeling the wave begin to push you with all of it’s power, seeing your board begin to lift up as you make your way down the face, knowing that you’ve gotta stand up quick. You’re rewarded with the best sense of thrill and accomplishment as you experience the ride you’ve been hoping for all day.

Making the wave is always a great confidence booster, and failing to make a wave is always a big ol’ slice of humble pie.

That’s how you quickly learn to respect the waves, the ocean and all of it’s mighty, salty power.

Naturally, once I get back out to the line up after catching my first wave I’m really enthusiastic when I cheer on my friends as one by one they go for a wave of their own. After many wipeouts and “almosts” it’s my turn. Since I now consider myself one helluva surfer, I go ahead and position myself a bit outside and right where the peak should be when a set comes in. I begin to paddle my little heart out and realize that I’m right on top of the lip, one or two more strokes and I’d be perfect, but not this time. Now it was my turn for that old familiar feeling of going up and over the falls. I remember thinking “ah, now I’m doing a somersault… I wonder when I’ll surface, nope, not yet…” until finally I see the light and can take a nice breath of air.

Why do I think it’s so much fun to wipeout? Am I the only one? I really don't mind the feeling of getting tossed around like a rag doll for a while underwater. Maybe I'm weird. Then again I also laugh when water starts pouring out of my nose when I'm on the beach after a wipeout and I flip my head over to dry my hair. Yeah... I'm definitely weird.

Here's a gem from the other day. Surprisingly enough, I didn't make this one. Actually this was the worst wipeout I've had yet, the white wash didn't want me to come up for quite a while and I came away with two big bruises on my thighs.

Anyway... On another note, I'm getting pretty excited to not only attend, but also speak at the first ever Steemfest! It will be my first time in Amsterdam and my first time public speaking (other than in college, but that never counts.) The fact that I'll be surrounded by other Steemers makes it even better. I'll be taking lots of videos and photographs, all of which I will be sharing with you during that weekend- along with updates on what I've learned from the many awesome presentations and workshops from other genius Steemers. So be sure to follow my posts here and also follow me on:

Twitter: steemitgirl

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Cheers!