tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46303167908064989402024-03-13T13:12:57.999-07:00Searching for the WayLiving is the hard part. Life is like a wave or an off-road trail littered with obstacles. Sometimes you just have to ride it out and see what happens. Whatever your preferred method, come and join me in searching for the way.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-41194925574230934652011-01-04T03:56:00.000-08:002011-01-04T04:02:34.818-08:00New YearHappy new Year!<br /><br />Farewell to a well above average 2010 and looking forward to my 30th year, a potentially splendid 2011!Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-21705913149245589472011-01-04T03:55:00.000-08:002011-01-04T03:56:43.699-08:00Fight of Flee??I originally wrote this post back in July, when looking at starting a new martial art, but having struggled for motivation, I left it half-written and stopped writing. Now, it is a new year! I'm not going to trot out a cliche about new years resolutions and starting my writing again, but I am going to admit I'm bored at work and had nothing else to do! So here it is.......<br /><br />Throughout my life, I've had a fascination with and taken part in several martial arts. There was Judo when I was about 10, Taekwando when I was about 14 and Karate on and off from the age of 18. First drawn to these through the film The Karate Kid, something about them fascinated me. I think it was feeling a bit like an outsider when younger and feeling I was learning something that not many other people did - it gave me something different to belong to. Also, being younger, learning to 'fight' was something that made you feel cool and tough.<br /><br />With maturity you realise that learning a martial art is about as useful in a fight as learning origami. You'd be better off kicking your opponent in the nuts or better yet, running off! The most important lesson in martial arts is this; 'We learn how to fight, so we do not have to fight'. Yes, martial arts do give you the skill to defend yourself. BUT.....and this is important. ONLY after dedicating yourself to learning the art and practising over many years. By this point, you have learnt why you do not need to fight and the circle is complete.<br /><br />Still, knowing this is different from having learnt through your own experience. Deep down a lot of us would still love to have the knowledge that, when it really came to it and we had to defend ourselves, we could. Without question and with confidence. Wouldn't it be great to be near the top of the food chain?<br /><br />I'm sure Merlin wouldn't mind me saying; but he used to have some issues with wanting to prove himself. But the journey he has taken on the way to becoming a Sensei has taught him why he no longer needs to fight.<br /><br />It is a journey that most people who enjoy a fight, don't take. You see it every weekend in the city centre, hear it on the news and read it in the paper. It takes real intelligence knowing why you shouldn't fight, to be able to walk away and 'be the bigger man'.<br /><br />As you get older, you get wiser. Unfortunately, some people never get older. Rather than learn to fight, learn how to run, fast! :DNick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-54949265111944125412010-04-06T15:03:00.001-07:002010-04-06T15:36:56.252-07:00The Boss EffectIt's been a while. I find it hard to blog about inane nonsense and have this page looking like my overlong twitter page of day-to-day ramblings and nonsense (thanks to Finn for borrowing/stealing that line!). When I really feel motivated to write something that has meaning to me, then I do and will.<br /><br />This weekend I spent some time in Yorkshire with the Boss. I'd not seen him since Christmas, and contact last year had been limited to a few occasions due to his serving 8 months in Afghan.<br /><br />Now, although my leg has been healing well, it hasn't really been challenged. I'd pushed it, but there's pushing it and then there's PUSHING it! This was due to change once the Boss had his way! He's developed into a top mountain biker and wanted to get me out on the trails, answering no was not an option!!<br /><br />Borrowing a £3k Santa Cruz bike, we headed up to Hamsterley near Darlington. Here we rode a pretty technical red trail and a 4x track. I'd never ridden trails as big as these before and here I was, with a leg at about 80%, hitting every drop and jump I could!<br /><br />You see, that's the effect of the Boss. He takes you outside your comfort zone and pushes you to heights you didn't know you could reach. It would be fair to say I miss having somebody like that around. Somebody who actually does what they say they're going to do. Somebody who is always striving to reach a higher level and insists on taking you along for the ride.<br /><br />Case in point. I didn't fancy riding down this 4x track. This place is national standard! I figured I had pushed my luck enough that day and would save it for next time. I had already pushed myself further than normal and I could only ride up on the pedals in short bursts, which made everything that much tougher. However, as I took a few pics of the Boss dropping in and doing some jumps, he appeared on the drop-in ramp with my bike. 'You've got to go down one way or another,' was all he said! I decided not to think, quick gulp of air, bouncing on the balls of my feet to warm the ankle up and off I pedaled.<br /><br />You see, you always need people around who believe you can obtain higher heights than you, yourself, even realise. That's what keeps dreams alive and keeps us striving to always reach that little bit further. That's the Boss effect.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-69023232589732106402010-02-11T04:37:00.000-08:002010-02-11T04:38:18.625-08:00You looking at me?I was walking through the town centre. Just minding my own business. Every so often a pretty girl would catch my eye. On the whole though, I paid nobody any attention and was generally lost in a world of my won. Pressing matters occupied my mind. What should I have for dinner tonight? Mmmmm, I fancy takeout, but it’s midweek, can I justify that?? Chinese? Indian? Subway? I carried on walking and pondering this conundrum.<br /><br />Suddenly, the sky seemed to darken. Like a sixth sense I noticed him approach. His eyes locked on me as he walked towards me. I held his gaze. This dude was huge! Definitely an MMA fighter I decided. One big, bad mofo.<br /><br />Like a showdown in the wild west, the town became deserted, the birds were quiet, streets empty, people fled for the safety of shops, windows were shut and boarded….I swear tumbleweed blew past me. This town ‘aint big enough for the both of us pardner.<br /><br />The distance between us closed and my heart beat faster. My breath became short and I could feel my clammy hands balling in and out of fists. My pulse became loud and muffled in my ears. Ladies and Gentlemen, in the red corner weighing 170lbs we have the challenger…….Everything in life had built me up to this one moment. I stood my ground.<br /><br />The gap was minimal, we continued to eyeball each other, who would make the first move?! For every action, there is an equal reaction. I was ready. He was ready. Let’s get it on!<br /><br />Our paths continued past each other. Phew – he was lucky. The sky brightened, the birds began to sing, doors opened and the streets were busy once again. So what was I going to have for dinner?????Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-20311559702311415042010-02-09T06:02:00.000-08:002010-02-09T06:11:45.876-08:00The last days of summerThe sun was slowly setting. Jonas sat and watched the surfer in the line-up. Summer was ending, the zoo of people had gone. The colder evenings meant only the dedicated would stay out, shivering until the light had faded. This surfer stood out. His unabashed joy at surfing clear from Jonas’s perch on the cliff.<br /><br />It had been a tough summer for everyone. Nothing else would ever be the same again. The loss would always be there. Jonas was savouring the last few moments before life moved on. His best friends Rob and Mikey came and stood next to him, they too were letting go of the remnants of summer.<br /><br />“Will you look at that guy go?” hooted Mikey. The surfer raced down the line, drawing clear of the trailing wall of white-water he threw himself into gravity defying turn after turn, yet still managing to stay on his feet.<br /><br />“I’ve not seen anybody like that out here, well except…” Rob’s voice trailed off.<br /><br />“I know dude,” Mikey squeezed his shoulder. “Nobody, except for Jonas.”.<br /><br />Rob quietly laughed, “Yeah, he’s even surfing in nothing but boardies, just like J. The crazy kid”.<br /><br />Jonas turned to them both and smiled to himself – he wasn’t one to brag or be cocky, recognition from his friends was immense, but the taking part was what he enjoyed. His smile faded as he remembered how he would miss the taking part the most.<br /><br />As they watched the surfer continue down the line, the wave endlessly lining up in a perfect wall of blue, the three of them stood and hooted the surfer as he disappeared behind the curtain of white-water. If this was to be their last memory of the summer, of this place, at least it was a good one.<br /><br />Rob and Mikey stood looking out over the ocean. Jonas turned towards them and heard Mikey speak, more to himself than anyone; “I’ll always miss you bru.”.<br /><br />Rob replied softly, “I’ll always miss him too Mikey, at least J is where he belongs now.”.<br /><br />Jonas watched as they both got in the car and drove away. It was time to move on now.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-10089068409371636242010-01-14T03:37:00.000-08:002010-01-14T03:39:03.134-08:00There's no place like homeI've been a critic of England for the last few years. Ever since I visited Florida in 1993 in fact! It's no secret I've always wanted to move to the states...................................or South Africa, Australia, Portugal, anywhere else in fact!!<br /><br />This wasn't helped by having a multicultural group of friends from hockey; Finn, the Coach and Bleeker to name a few who came from other countries! Stories they told of other lands would leave me feeling jealous and wanting something more from my home country. This was then reinforced by my best friend Merlin emigrating to NYC 2 years ago.<br /><br />For years I just wanted to pack up and ship out. Everytime I opened a newspaper, something else disgusted or annoyed me. Whether it was crime, the government or people in general. To me, my country was a let down. I felt this could be solved simply by upping sticks and hopping across the pond.<br /><br />Now, I'm not blind to the problems other countries have, but when you live in your own space in your country, you live in a microcosm of the environment - a sub-level to the overruling government - so bigger issues do not always filter down and bother/affect you. It's when they do that you start getting itchy feet and wishing for elsewhere.<br /><br />It's been like this with England. You all know enough about the state of the place, politics and government, that I don't need to recap. But it just seems to be getting worse, not better. Inner cities are becoming no-go zones and it isn't just the media creating a moral panic. I only need to walk through the town centre keeping my gaze up for a few seconds too long, to have some 12 year old start swearing and cursing asking me what my problem is! That bothers me!!<br /><br />Going back to my original thread of wanting to emigrate. After a 12 month delay (!), I've just made my 3rd visit to NYC. I spent 2 weeks there over the new year and had the time of my life. I visited places tourists don't normally go. Hung out with friends and lived as a local would. Again, I didn't really want to come home. The city holds a special place in my heart and has a vibe I have never experienced elsewhere. I walk the streets and I feel alive. Again it got me thinking about moving.....<br /><br />But you know something? This time, I actually felt pretty good once I got home. It was nice to step out of the hectic pace and relax. Don;t get me wrong, I can't wait to visit again, it's already planned for June.<br /><br />My point is though, there are many amazing places in the world that we hold dear for whatever reason. They will always spark off memories or feelings and transport us back to that time. But rather than think the grass is always greener on the other side, just don't pour weedkiller over your own patch! Nurture and appreciate what you have, rather than always longing for something else.<br /><br />Maybe that way you learn to appreciate both sides even more.<br /><br />Word. :)Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-82763238666227290552010-01-12T13:39:00.001-08:002010-01-12T13:44:01.773-08:00A new year, A new beginning2010. The end of the noughties - what a stupid term for them, but I won't go into that here! :)<br /><br />Last year was an interesting one. In terms of up and downs, it had more action than Russell Brands sex life!<br /><br />The last few months have been good, really good. But I've also lost focus on a few goals I set and a few things I learnt during my layoff last year. It's time now to address these and bring them back into the spotlight.<br /><br />Motivation hasn't been lacking exactly. I've got a great girlfriend, great apartment and have had some awesome holidays since the summer, alongside getting a permanent promotion at work just before xmas. But dedication has been short.<br /><br />I have some stuff I want to accomplish in the short term and now I'm feeling refreshed, that's what I intend to do.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-40075686366393887012009-12-13T13:53:00.000-08:002009-12-13T14:13:27.204-08:00The Path to the Dark SideThere is many a path to the dark side. You can walk along a tight rope never really falling off, but when you fall, damn it's hard to surface again. You can be the greatest person in the world, but all it takes is one small insignificant moment....And then. Everything. Changes.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">'I want revenge. I can't bear that people might think he got one over me. I can't stand that people expected me to come off worse. I hate that his life goes on, nothing changes. He's a great guy I hear. Total accident. Most of all I detest being forgotten. All I would have wanted were occasional words of kindness and encouragement'.</span><br /><br />It's so hard when you feel your <span style="font-weight: bold;">blood boil</span> and you wanna put right something that is wrong, but you can't. Not many understand why you yearn to do this. Or why you feel such a need.<br /><br />This week a Premiership footballer called Dean Ashton had to retire through injury. At the age of 26. In my opinion, most footballers are pampered, greedy, arrogant prima donnas (with the odd exceptions). By all accounts Dean Ashton was an all round good guy. He had made it the hard way. Coming up through lower leagues before getting a big money move to a premiership club. He had so much potential and it was gone, just like that. One. Badly. Timed. Tackle. Over.<br /><br />There is talk now that Ashton may sue either the player who tackled him, the players club or the football association. A lot of people are hoping he doesn't and can't understand why he would think about it.<br /><br />Well let me tell you something. Unless you've had a serious injury that has taken a long time to come back from, you won't understand. There's a need for closure, for righting the wrong and for feeling that nobody has<span style="font-weight: bold;"> 'got one over you'. </span> The mental torment this guy must have been under is immense. I can just about begin to imagine it, so for others they will have no idea.<br /><br />The anger, subsides most of the time. It doesn't even bubble away under the surface. But sometimes; a photo, a memory, and instantaneously, it's right back to 12 months ago.<br /><br />The maxim, 'carpe diem' has never been truer. Live your life for each day, forgetting things that don't matter. Let them go.<br /><br />Easier said than done....Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-33507325627647095902009-11-03T06:12:00.001-08:002009-11-03T06:20:49.284-08:00End of an EraGood times come and good times go. And even though at the time you know how great they are, part of you is itching to recreate it before it has even finished. Then when you do try and recreate it................it's never the same.<br /><br />A lot has changed in the last 18 months. Not just superficial stuff like work, home, love etc. But physical and emotional things too.<br /><br />The last couple of years has seen a huge amount of people come in and out of my life. I guess I've always been a bit of a drifter, drifting from one group to another. Some of these people were good, some downright awesome and some not so good. But most of them have faded away now. Either physically moved or just drifted, but it feels the end of an era.<br /><br />I guess now is a good time for reflection. Yesterday, my doc told me that I didn't have to come back to the hospital again for 6 months. I can do a lot of stuff with my leg now, within reason. It seems to be healing well. But reading between the lines, I can safely say that I won't be able to play hockey again for the forseeable future, if at all.<br /><br />I liked belonging to a team with Hockey, however shambolic a team it was! It was Hockey that allowed me to meet various great people; Finn, Tigger, the Coach, number 35, May Day and more. People I learnt a lot from. Some I still hear from, some I don't.<br /><br />I guess there always comes a time when thigns have to change. Rather than look back being wistful and nostalgic, I guess the way to look is ahead.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-42228115432434943732009-10-22T08:05:00.000-07:002009-10-22T08:30:41.195-07:00A listYou know you sometimes wander along and get that feeling...you know the one I mean? You smell or hear something and all your senses rushing to the fore at once, a gazillion memories flooding back at the same time and usually accompanied by a pang of nostalgia.<br /><br />Here's a list of things I like that make this happen :)<br /><br />1. The smell after a thunderstorm<br />2. Hearing 'When I come Around' play<br />3. Being tucked up in bed when it is miserable, cold and raining buckets outside<br />4. Running around in a heavy downpour<br />5. Sitting out back with a close friend<br />6. Walking to the train station early morning, when the sun is shining and the streets are empty<br />7. Drinking pimms and lemonade<br />8. Smell of a bbq<br />9. Drinking Fosters draught in a barNick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-88772937186266267982009-10-13T17:06:00.000-07:002009-10-13T17:14:55.024-07:00Back in the Old RoutineSaturday 10th October. I finally made it back in the water. It's been a long time.<br /><br />I'd squeezed in a trip to the states, where a lot of walking, cycling and swimming and stepped up my rehab somewhat. Though only 5 weeks off crutches and not allowed to do anything too strenuous, I though I might be able to squeeze in a short surf trip.<br /><br />As luck would have it, the Boss was back in town. Granted 2 weeks leave from fighting in Afghan, he was more than willing to hit the old road trip route and reminisce over the past.<br /><br />Being a little older this time. Not going above 80 and accompanied by girlfriends, we road-tripped to North Devon and setup camp. Everything was set for an end-of-season BBQ and some swapping of war stories around the camp fire.<br /><br />The surfing itself was good on Saturday. The forecast hadn't been too promising, but the weather was warm, sea still manageable in a summer suit and the sun shining. The waves were regular and in the 3 foot range, even if they lacked a little power.<br /><br />I'd already prepared myself for the fact I would have no chance of being on a board, so was content to take in a bodyboard and pick off a few waves as and when they had enough juice to assist me. Unfortunately, my ankle was still too weak to allow me to kick for any weaker waves. But I was back, I was happy.<br /><br />The Boss however seemed to have other ideas. Mellowed by age and experience, but still as eager as ever, he owned the waves. I'm not sure that I have ever seen him surf with such enthusiasm and skill, after such a long layoff. It was a pleasure to be back in the water with the guy it all started with.<br /><br />The short trip has shown me where I need to work my leg to improve and get back surfing properly. I'm on it.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-27013071151959209802009-10-02T07:23:00.000-07:002009-10-13T17:06:22.468-07:00All Mouth No Trousers<div>Pecs to die for, a sculpted six-pack, boardies worn low and the latest board shaped by Al Merrick. Owning a pristine VW camper and spending a week each Summer in Newquay. Now that's what it takes to be a surfer. Facebook is full of people who pose as surfers in their profile pictures, but probably haven't been out back, let alone stood on anything more advanced than a foamy.<br /><br />Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against people learning to surf. Totally the opposite. I love people taking it up and the excitement they get once they are hooked. I still remember the feeling I had when I caught my first ever wave on a big foam Swell board. It's the feeling I'm still trying to recreate 8 years on.<br /></div><div> </div><br /><div> </div>My gripe though, is when people lack humility, they have to act the 'big I am'. Owning a board, driving to Newquay and looking the part, don't make you a surfer.<br /><div> </div><br /><div>I remember I saw a photo of a friends 'love interest', on myspace. The guy used to rave about how he was a surfer, yada, yada, yada. Sure he looked the part, the hair, the clothes, but this photo.......well, not only was he walking along the beach at sunset carrying his board (oh yeah a 6'2 thruster that would rarely get use in this country!), he had his leash round his ankle. Mistake number 1. Nobody walks down the beach with a leash round their ankle, you trip over the damn thing! I could have forgiven him though, I mean the guy might have been Jeebus and floated across the sand, avoiding leash tripping (yeah right!). The clincher though........he was wearing his skin tight white vest with his boardies. Was he gonna wear that out there or put it in his pocket?! It was more like the Abercrombie and Fitch 05 catalogue shoot.<br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><br /><div>Who cares what people ride or where they do it. Who cares if it's the fashionable surf spot to be at or the gnarliest. Surfing isn't about macho bullshit or partying 24/7 then surfing. Surfing comes from within. It isn't something you do, it's a state of mind. It isn't the physical act of being in the water and partaking in a watersport. It is something you feel. Something grounded in humility. Something anyone can be part of, but they cannot own it or allow their ego to be bigger than it.</div><div> </div><br /><div>Aloha.</div>Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-68605364859471306482009-07-29T04:27:00.000-07:002009-07-29T05:00:21.060-07:00In the Present - Part OneWe sat on the headland as the sun was warming the sky. Looking out to sea, the lines of swell were already marching in. The sea churned in organised chaos. The surrounding terrain; rocky, dangerous cliffs - reminding us how beautiful the coastline could be. The sky looked unpredictable, reds colliding with black, blue and grey. The resultant collage reflecting the state of Johnny's mind.<br /><br />I sat there on the damp grass, cross legged and watching. A light morning breeze cooled me and contrasted with the first warming rays of the sun. Was I warm or cold? The conflict played on my mind, as did the events of the last 6 months. Peace. That's what we had come here for. To get away from everything and find some peace.<br /><br />I sat watching Johnny for a while. He appeared to be watching the swell roll in, but I knew he wasn't paying it much attention. Like me, he was mulling over recent events and trying to make sense of it all. The build up to it, the loss, why did it have to happen? What a waste.<br /><br />We sat there for maybe an hour more. In silence, just watching. Waiting.<br /><br />We heard the tyres on gravel as a car slowly pulled in behind us, both turning as it slowed. A figure stepped out and spoke. 'You ready? Let's go.'Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-26755104521381243842009-07-15T06:48:00.000-07:002009-07-15T07:20:48.685-07:00The journey is a MarathonImpatience can be a terrible trait. I've always seen myself as a sprinter, rather than a Marathon runner. And by this I mean, I want everything and I want it now. I'm the kind of guy who would rush a relationship and cram 2 years worth into 2 months. Why? I don't know. I've never felt or had the urge to really tackle something slowly and methodologically and reap the benefits after I have put in the bulk of work. I see and want the end product, with none of the dedication to the craft that is required. I'm like a walking, talking, breathing 0% finance Buy Now Pay Later deal!<br /><br />It could be that the good influence of some people has finally rubbed off. Perhaps seeing how well Merlin is doing in NYC, that Sampras now has a family, including a 12 week old daughter or even that the Boss is in Afghan defending his country. I'm no longer grasping after a youth, feeling I wasted it and need to relive it. I was there, I packed in as much as I could and I'm all the stronger for the rest of the journey.<br /><br />Now, I've got a long-term woman, decent job that I worked for and made mine, career prospects and I'm studying some new qualifications in my own time. I've practically forgotten that my leg is still in a cast and has been for nearly 9 months. Priorities have shifted and I learnt to be patient.<br /><br />There's one thing keeping me patient without fail. The thought of surfing once again. Lately, I've read a few surf fiction books. Very creative, expressive and linguistic. They've really amped me for getting back in the water.<br /><br />I no longer care how good I can be or whether I'll ever be anything but ordinary in the water - but don't mistake it for a lack of competitiveness. I'm just glad I will get the chance to take part once more. A shattered shinbone could have kept me out of the water permanently. Take a step back and realise what it means to be merely competent at something. Is there anything wrong with being, just ordinary?<br /><br />So what's my point? How does learning to be patient, being prepared to put in the work for the reward, looking forward to something again and seeing the bigger picture link up? Well, finally I do see the big picture. It isn't about the destination at all. It isn't about everything culimating in a one-off moment. It's all about the journey too.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-44172473577822535232009-06-26T14:25:00.000-07:002009-06-26T14:40:14.557-07:00Priorities, timing, effort, perseverance.....It's funny how priorities change over the years. One minute all you care about is nightclubs, chasing skirt and the next pay cheque and the next minute you're preferring upmarket wine bars to night clubs and getting satisfaction out of work.<br /><br />I've definitely been the slowest out of all the guys to appreciate growing up. I still stuck to my youthful dreams - skateboarding, riding, surfing - no idea how to take them with me into adulthood. Bouncing from one calamity to another and self-destructing whenever anything went well. Running scared of approaching the big 3-0 and thinking I was forever 18. But as I got older the girls got younger and your outlook changes. It happens to us all.<br /><br />Merlin was the first I would say. Slogged his guts out for his dream job, now travels the world, earns a lot and married to the girl of his dreams. Always knew where he was going and was in a rush to get there, but boy was it worth it!<br /><br />The Captain and Sampras quickly followed. Homeowners, marriage and kids. They are happy, have beautiful families and good jobs - hell if they aren't role models to me, I dunno what would be?! I'm proud of them all.<br /><br />Gradually everything falls into place - you can't force the issue, you just find your path naturally and........well........eventually..........it works.<br /><br />Some people I envy, because they seem to know where their path lies before it's been made. They forge on, aware of their destination and reach it in record time. The rest of us are left wallowing in wrong turns or a jungle of dead ends - like me clinging on to my younger days.<br /><br />Some people struggle to give up dreams and become older and why should they?<br /><br />A good friend of mine, Finn, has recently taken steps towards achieving his dream of playing a particular sport at the highest level. He never gave up or thought his time had passed. He kept plugging away, perseverance earning him the reward and then his path opened out right where he wanted it to. I'm proud of the guy. As well as talent, he has guts, determination and hard work going for him.<br /><br />Merlin once said 'nothing worth having ever comes easy' - the simplest statement but so true. Doesn't matter how good at something you are, or how much you want something to be yours - if you don't put in the effort and hard work, it will never be.<br /><br />I don't have to give up anything I love, I just need to keep my path clear, keep working ahrd, glide all obstacles and know where I'm heading. And right now that looks like a helluva sweet place.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-54124644976353393752009-06-23T07:15:00.000-07:002009-06-23T07:18:14.320-07:00A New DawnI’ve not written for a while. I’ve not felt sufficiently inspired or motivated. That’s not to say things haven’t been going well. For once everything seems to be falling into place. A new (lush!) home, a great girlfriend and soul mate and a new job. I just haven’t had that burning need to write something down – that spark when something that means something to you blazes into your mind.<br /><br />Now though.......<br /><br />I guess amongst all the highs come the lows. I’m still here, 7 months later, with a bust leg. I’m waiting for another operation that should speed up the healing process, though I remain unconvinced. It seems whoever I speak to gives conflicting advice. I know that they’re just there to help and do the best for you, but does that mean you shouldn’t question things? Does questioning and voicing an opinion go against trying to be a better person?<br /><br />It seems this 2nd operation will put me out of action for a short time (again). The recovery isn’t as straightforward as I hoped and there is no guarantee it’ll work. Quite a different description than I was told before. Then to make me feel even more buoyant, I was cheerily informed I may be able to surf but might have to ‘knock mountain biking on the head’! Not what I was told originally………<br /><br />I guess getting back into the swing and routine of life, I’ve forgotten a lot of my lessons I recently learnt. Now is the time to drag them from the dark, cluttered, corners of my mind and dust them down.<br /><br />Out of adversary comes strength. I believe in concepts such as SISU and have the mental strength to overcome obstacles along my path. Ultimately, there are people far worse off than me.<br /><br />However, I vow, once back on my feet, I’ll never take things for granted or waste valuable time again. I intend to champion the cause for people who cannot take life for granted as we do so often.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-2897758129568091862009-05-21T05:16:00.000-07:002009-05-21T05:58:19.009-07:00The Smell after the StormLife is full of so many obstacles, sometimes it becomes impossible to navigate your way safely on a day-to-day basis. We experience one trauma, then another, which sends us crashing and spinning into something else and in turn we bounce from obstacle-to-obstacle like we’re trapped in our own life-size pinball machine.<br /><br />When this happens and the moments of uplift are few and far between, how do we seek light? As Merlin once said to me; ‘I thought I saw light at the end of the tunnel, then I realised it was some bas**rd with a torch bringing me more work to do!’. Does light exist?<br /><br />The last 6 months, plus recent developments and a setback in my rehab, have challenged me to find the answer to this. And I think I may have done.<br /><br />Our imaginations are powerful tools. I had forgotten how to utilise mine. How to picture wonderful sights, sounds and smells, dream of exciting adventures and feel at peace. I’ve recently been losing myself in books and this has unlocked my mind once more.<br /><br />Picture this….I’m sat at my desk at work, routinely working through the day to day tasks and wishing many things. I wish I had more money, 2 working legs, some food, a clean kitchen, no work and so on……..Suddenly, in a flash, the memory of sand running through my fingers came into my head. Dunno what made me think of this, or why? Warm, golden sand. Microscopic, fine particles, being poured from one hand to the next, my fingers digging into the sand, feeling the warmth of the surface and the coldness as I dig further…..memories of being on a beach, perhaps mid-surf session…..<br /><br />The warm feeling this memory conjured up in my stomach, led me to seek further recollections that brought the same reaction. Memories that would give that fuzzy feeling inside and make you see how much easier the journey should and could be.<br /><br />The smell of freshly cut grass, sat with the Captain in his parents garden. The empty streets of a dawn city centre, while me, the Boss and Merlin staggered home at 6am. The smell in the air after a heavy summer thunder storm whilst surfing in Croyde. The satisfaction of an ice cream on a hot day riding in the forest. A bottle of ice cold water when you are thirsty, the sound of waves crashing, early summer mornings, bathing in the warm shallows and so on and so on……<br /><br />I guess my point is this. Life doesn’t need to be so tough and hard work. Light can and will be found in all the small moments. The simple but pleasurable moments are what brings us the light. All we have to do is……………..close out eyes and remember them.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-53212570520314467562009-05-14T05:03:00.000-07:002009-05-14T05:05:53.655-07:00When You Wish Upon a StarRemember that intense feeling of your own beating heart and the constant churning in your stomach? The realisation that you feel sick and there’s nothing you can do to make it stop? Like a ship without a rudder, all you can do is look up and make a wish.<br /><br />Some people use this anxiety to their advantage. I know Merlin does in his martial arts training. A fight or flight response. In fact, he advocates that it is far better to feel nerves than not. Then there is no danger of complacency and it reminds you you’re alive.<br /><br />Other sportsman use them too. To motivate or ‘gee themselves’ up for a big moment in their field. To turn it to their advantage, feed off it and use it to dominate.<br /><br />I remember when Sampras got married and I was his best man. I don’t think I physically started thinking about the speech I had to make until the day before. Then it was sweaty palms time, shortness of breath, panicked thoughts and an impatience to get it out the way. Anxiety and nerves lead to stress, which in turn makes you feel like you are failing and useless.<br /><br />What’s always funny about this situation, but I still never seem to learn this lesson, is whatever you are worried about, never turns out as bad as you think it will be. My best-man speech went down a treat, I got congratulations from strangers and hopefully Sampras, as well as his new bride, enjoyed it.<br /><br />I’m the same with interviews. As I write this, I’m watching the clock count down the minutes until an interview. The nerves are increasing and I’m assuming I’ll get in there and have nothing to say. They’ll look at me wondering in astonishment what I am doing there and I’ll shrink, slowly, becoming smaller and smaller…I’ll have failed, I’ll feel paranoid that they are mocking everything I say and so it goes on and on…..<br /><br />When I was young, I couldn’t talk to girls either. The same constraining feelings would leave me feeling emotionally crippled – were they laughing at me? Did they hate me?<br /><br />When I used to skate with Merlin and the Captain back in the day. I had the natural skill to be at a much higher level than I was, but I was always held back by nerves. A fear of falling, of failing, or looking stupid, perhaps of not fitting in?<br /><br />Experiencing nerves and anxiety about the direction of my life in general is a daily occurrence. I worry where I am, where I am going and how on earth I am going to get there.<br /><br />The only time I never experience nerves negatively, is sitting out back on a surfboard. Whether it’s the gentle rocking of the ocean or the feeling of being close to nature, I don’t know. I’ve paddled into some big surf, surf that was way out of my league, I’ve got caught on rocks many times with seemingly no easy escape, but during all these times, I’ve fed off any anxiety in a positive way. I’d almost go as far as to say I’ve embraced the feeling.<br /><br />Perhaps with surfing, there isn’t a point where you have to stop and psyche yourself up for something. The energy in the water means you are constantly in motion, the waves shape and size constantly changing and thus you, the surfer, never have a moment where you pause like in other aspects of life and can take stock of the situation. There is never time to think about how good you are, how you look, who is watching or what you are doing in that moment.<br /><br />I used to use alcohol and other substances to block out the feelings of anxiety, nerves, depression and despair. But that isn’t what I’m about anymore.<br /><br />It could be that the Captain’s teachings are finally getting through to me? Maybe, it is seeing the Boss grow and make some of the best decisions he has ever made? Perhaps it is seeing Sampras become a Father? These guys inspire me and help me to grow. I know it is all of these things and more.<br /><br />Pulling all this together, is <span style="font-weight: bold;">StarGirl</span>, who has given me more love, respect and advice than people I’ve know for years and has shown me how to see the world through new eyes. A tripod cannot have more than 3 legs, but it will always be there and perhaps I’ve found my lobster instead.<br /><br />Life shouldn’t be about worry.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-30866049937347138362009-05-10T04:03:00.000-07:002009-05-10T05:01:27.280-07:00What price to sell your Soul?What price to sell your soul? Perhaps a pound of flesh for a pound of flesh or the undetectable loss of 21 grams? You shake hands with the devil, you have to be prepared to pay a price.<br /><br />I always preach being true to yourself. Never sacrificing what you believe in and treating others how you wish to be treated. I've been trying to be a good person. How hard does that sound? Sounds like the easiest thing in the world right? Well, as I mentioned right back at the start of this journey; dying is the easy part, living is the hard part. Being true to yourself and others? Hard to say the least....<br /><br />I've lived a selfish life. I've seen and experienced things that live in darkness. I purposefully chose to walk in the shadows of life for a while; to toughen myself up and lose some of the naivety and innocence that seemed ingrained within me. It was a conscious choice and ironically, sometimes, I wish I could go back 10 years and reverse that decision. It's my belief I sold my soul, to trade one lifestyle, that I felt wasn't rewarding or desirable, for another that on the surface had all the aspects I could dream of.<br /><br />The thing is, there's certain lifestyles you lead that have consequences. There is only so many things you can get away with before someone decides to collect. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating being boring and I know how to live. But there is a line. I spent most of my time on the other side of that line. For me, it is all or nothing. Whatever you think you've done that's crazy, multiply it. I never boast, brag or show an ego, but I can assure you that whatever you've done in life, it is kids stuff to me.<br /><br />So, I felt I needed to seek imrprovement. I accepted breaking my leg. The way it happened, the severity of the break and the length of recovery time. All with fairly good grace - though I've had my moments! I figured it was my time to pay. Dismiss it as rubbish if you wish, but karma exists. I was happy, willing and it was the right time to pay my pound of flesh. The time off allowed me to reflect on things and improve myself. As you may have read throughout this journey, I truly believed I had changed for the better and improved myself for my benefit and others around me.<br /><br />Turns out that isn't true.<br /><br />A leopard cannot change his spots that soon. Maybe deep down, there is part of me that truly is the boy I was 10 years past. Or maybe, I'm kidding myself and should just embrace who I am now? Maybe my quest for high-standards, over-thinking and perfection means I'm always doomed to fail. Whatever is true, I do know this. I've not served penance for the past and recent events have condemned me even further. I just wish I had the words or actions to show how sorry I am for the choices I have made and the people who have been hurt. Rather than blaming others, I should seek to put right those things within my control.<br /><br />I know only 2 people in life to have never 'sold their soul' so to speak. The Captain and Sampras. Maybe, looking up to them, I'm just setting myself unrealistic targets to achieve?<br /><br />But should we not at least try to achieve that which is out-of-reach? Last week one of my idols, Ricky Hatton, lost his 2nd bid for the title of greatest boxer in the world. Is he a disgrace for falling short of his target? No. But he at least had the balls to try.<br /><br />I've gone from thinking I had it all figured out, to not having a clue. Jeez, does anyone or are they all just pretending?Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-506331581405102342009-04-28T08:18:00.000-07:002009-04-28T08:35:14.818-07:00Out of the GameAs I sit at my desk working, my mind is always wandering. I’m constantly restless. I know deep down that I don’t belong in an office, it’s almost like a cage to me. But in this life our choices exist within certain boundaries. And as a good friend recently said; ‘It is usually more profitable and successful to follow the path of least resistance’.<br /><br />Why am I so restless? Well, I guess 5 months of not having total freedom are slowly pushing me to the edge. I’ve lost the skip in my step that was in existence a few weeks ago. I’ve lost some of my compassion for other people and slowly I am losing the desire to be a better person and better myself. All negative things and stuff I must stop. Other people, work and life in general seem designed to bring you to this state. It seems there is a game you have to play in life and those who have power or get off on making others miserable, are the winners.<br /><br />Of course I could easily blame other people for the loss of spring in my step.<br /><br />I won’t blame others though. Although it is hard to take the high road, rise above the monotonous of everyday crap and ignore others when they seem to be at their most irritating, annoying and bullying. It is something worth pursuing. As I recently said to Moony who was experiencing some of the same feelings as me, towards others; you need to take a step back and put things in perspective. Out of the billions of people in this world, who cares what a few say, do or think. Their lives must suck if they have to make themselves feel better in such a way.<br /><br />5 months of staring at walls, relying on others and constantly explaining the same story over and over, slowly grate. But I’ve got to look on the bright side. I’m fit and healthy and I’ll soon have my freedom back. I’m taking myself out of this game. Office politics aren’t for me. Games of one-upmanship the same. While they waste their lives playing them, I’ll be metaphorically sticking 2 fingers up, whilst sat outback on my board, facing the horizon.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-78965233164533449652009-04-22T08:30:00.000-07:002009-04-22T08:34:22.951-07:00The Magic of True FriendshipI think it is hard to make new, good, close friends as you get older. The ones you have tend to be people you’ve known a while and I guess you tend to spend the majority of your time with your girlfriend, boyfriend, wife or husband.<br /><br />I don’t make new close friends easily. I think it’s because I’ve been burnt too many times, taken in and let down or just because they are extremely unreliable. I like to think I’m a good judge of character nowadays. And the times you get somebody that everyone raves about, I’ll usually see through the bullshit and spot them for what they are deep down. <br /><br />Aside from my oldest friends and fellow tripod legs I went to school with, I’ve actually had the good fortune of meeting some great people over the last few years. The Coach, Finn, Boobs and Willow, have all been there when it’s mattered and will be friends for life. But one friend I’ve known for about 12 years and is very important, is Merlin.<br /><br />Possibly the hardest working, most talented individual I have ever met. He went from being one of the crowd, occasionally confident but often shy, to standing out head and shoulders above everyone else.<br /><br />A black belt in Karate, a Sensei himself, a world renowned leader on Microsoft products (trust me, you’d see if you Googled him!), a husband, photographer, a resident on <span style="font-weight: bold;">THE</span> Wall Street, a survivor and most of all, a great friend.<br /><br />Over the years Merlin has turned his hand to most things with great success. While we spent our late teens getting drunk, he spent his working his way up the corporate IT ladder to a worldwide recognised status. I took him surfing once, he stood within 5 minutes. He took up Karate when he was 17 and now teaches it himself <span style="font-weight: bold;">AND</span> studies with the grand master in Japan. He had a bash at Snowboarding and by all accounts is now a regular showcasing his skills in Vermont. He liked some of my photos, so decided to take up Photography – he now produces images that are magazine cover-worthy! He took up mountain biking and….well you can guess the rest!<br /><br />The guy is an actual wizard. He makes magic happen, in every sense of the word. You spend time with him and it’s like the spotlight shines on you that little bit more too. Never a dull moment, never a boring story, every experience shared with him enriches your life further.<br /><br />Now to any outside reader, this may seem a little sycophantic. But I think that when somebody is one of the most driven, hard working and inspiring individuals you’ve met, it should be mandatory to give credit where credit is due. He’s also a central figure in these rambling stories I tell. If he isn’t in them, he’s shaped my opinions and views in some way.<br /><br />It’s important to note that he isn’t one of those people blessed with good fortune in everything they touch. The kind of person that does exactly what they want in life and possesses no humility, yet still seems to succeed at everything they try. Merlin is the opposite of this. Through a mixture of mental titanium toughness, talent, humility, strength in adversity and a discipline for hard work that seems to have been forged in another time and place, this is one individual who deserves anything and everything good that comes their way.<br /><br />Of course being jealous of other people is never a good thing. But it is always so much more refreshing, when it is an individual who deserves every bit of success that comes their way. Especially when they have worked so hard for it.<br /><br />You can usually count the people you can really rely on on one hand. Merlin is on that list for sure.<br /><br />The word average could never be used in the same sentence as this guy. I accept I may never reach the heights he has, but it gives me great pleasure just being along for the ride.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-15624054876952178212009-04-22T07:48:00.000-07:002009-04-22T07:49:11.370-07:00Summer and Stubbies5pm on a Friday afternoon and the sun was still shining. Work was finished for the week and the cars were loaded. The usual faces were there; the Captain, the Boss, myself and a few others. Our tents and sleeping bags packed and most importantly, our boards were loaded on the roof. Road trip time.<br /><br />2 hours later and spirits were still high. We’d hit the M5 in Devon, stopped to refuel with an all-day breakfast at Little Chef and we were back on the road. The M5 gave us ample opportunity to fill our water bombs (condoms!) and launch these from one car to the other. Direct hit from the Boss! Unfortunately, my return fire was a little weak, due to me throwing like a girl!<br /><br />Once the condoms were used up, ammunition consisted of boiled sweets, pies, custard doughnuts and anything else of a messy and hard to clean nature! Boys will be boys, and this was quickly followed by a mooning competition and then a sketchy race between the Boss and Captain to see who could navigate the M5 in the most pant-wettingly and quickest amount of time.<br /><br />Tents setup, a couple of beers and we hit the sack, ready for a day of surfing for some of us and a pummelling from the waves for the rest.<br /><br />10am and we hit the beach, the place is like a zoo as we try and surf amongst ankle biters, bikini clad chicks and even a family and their oversized inflatable boat!<br /><br />After a quick break for lunch the waves had jacked up. Offshore breeze, clean A-frame peaks and heights of 6 foot plus. The sense of anticipation was great, we were salivating at the prospect of being that close to nature.<br /><br />There’s less traffic in the water now and the only liabilities seem to be the weekend warriors. You know who I mean…the posers with their shiny new boards, unused wetsuits and Daddy’s 4x4. The kinda people who may have been popular when you were at school, yet 10 years later still think they’re ‘the man’. They list surfing as their main interest after standing for a few seconds on a foamy in Newquay.<br /><br />Sitting out back, straddling the board, facing the horizon. The sea pitches slightly, a solid green lump rises and heads for me. A perfect line of swell. A quick turn, I lay down on the board, check over my shoulder for the waves position and I paddle, arcing my turn towards the peak of the wave. The swell hits me, I feel the energy and I paddle faster. As soon as I can I hit my feet and angle down the line, letting the energy of the wave take me. I survive the elevator drop and pull in, pumping the board and racing along the clean face of the wave. I bottom turn hard and angle up the face, I go to top turn, but the waves quicker than I am and the curl takes me clean off the board. I recover and with a huge smile and a hoot, I paddle back out to the line up. Job done.<br /><br />The evening arrived and this meant one thing. Barbeque time. The Captain decided as well as a feast of sausages and burgers, he was going to buy up the shop’s entire stock of alcohol. Alongside the crate of beer (stubbies of course), there was a bottle of vodka, a bottle of whisky and a selection of brightly coloured, garish looking alcopops! The Captain demands that nobody can sleep until the stash is drunk dry.<br /><br />The evening flew by in a blaze of chat, food and drink. Talk about the waves, the wipe-outs and where we’d like to surf. A fire was built to toast marshmallows and this slowly turns to chaos as the soft, gooey and very sticky marshmallows became ammunition to use against each other.<br /><br />As the fire slowly dies we drift off to our tents. The food gone and the alcohol severely diminished.<br /><br />Deep sleep quickly follows, followed even quicker by the Captain waking everyone at 4am to tell us of the latest entry in the Captain’s log. He has not only finished the rest of the stubbies, he’s also taken care of the whisky and vodka too! We throw things at him and fall asleep chuckling.<br /><br />The next day we cleared up with a spring in our step. Another great surf trip under our belts. This happiness is only slightly tempered by the discovery of one lone stubby the Boss missed the night before. Can he bring himself to drink it? Alas, no. But not to worry, with one quick move, the Boss took the beer and chugged it in one. No thinking, no hesitating. That’s why they call him the Boss.<br /><br />It is for the reasons above I surf and when the warm fingers of the sun touch me around May each year, my mind permanently wanders to memories such as that above.<br /><br />I’ll see you out back.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-52547886657919556182009-04-22T06:56:00.000-07:002009-04-22T06:59:01.312-07:00The Bigger ManSometimes, everything can get that little bit too much. Everybody annoys you and you just feel stuck in a rut. People just talking in general, grates. Any remark made, even in jest, pisses you off. And you spend your day wishing for another time, another place….anywhere but where you are.<br /><br />Today is one of those days.<br /><br />Life is going swimmingly, nothing has particularly happened and progress is being made. So what’s the problem? Well, for starters, everything is moving to slow for my liking. I’m not a fan of patience and hate feeling like I’m living in glue. I know where I want to be, but I’m not getting there fast enough. Maybe 5 months of not being able to walk, having to depend on others for too many things and not having the freedom to do what I want, has finally got to me?<br /><br />Whatever the reason, the one thing I need to remember is this - there are far more people, in far worse positions than I will ever be. It’s impossible to get on with everyone all the time and the few that do irritate you, make up such a small amount of the population it renders them insignificant.<br /><br />Through all of this, trying to stay true to your beliefs is the hardest thing in the world. How can you be who you want to be, when others won’t let you? When someone pisses you off, it’s natural to react. If someone puts you down, it’s natural to fire back at them. And when things just don’t feel like they’re going your way, it’s hard not to hate and blame the world.<br /><br />Hell, I’m too old for these games of one-upmanship, playing the alpha male and conversations consisting entirely of ‘banter’. Sometimes it’s harder, yet entirely more fulfilling, to not fight every battle and just to let things go. Let them wash over you. Take the high road, be the bigger man, whatever you want to call it, it comes down to the same thing. Who really is the better man? The kid who is ‘young, dumb and full of cum’(to rip-off Point Break!) and talks far too much or the wiser, kinder, more fulfilled figure, who tries to stay true to themselves and whose serene exterior belies the life they have lived and the adventures they have experienced?<br /><br />Nowadays my tastes are simple. Good company, good conversation, a couple of beers and some good memories - forged by summers spent in Croyde with the Boss, the ‘gay’ centerparcs holiday with Sampras, lazy evenings skating and living it up in Manhattan with Merlin and Seth/Ryan time with the Captain.<br /><br />When it just isn’t going your way, sit back, close your eyes to the world and cherish the good times you’ve experienced. Nobody can take those away from you. Maybe throw on a tune that takes you someplace else, but ultimately, look at what you have and not what you don’t have.<br /><br />Aloha.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-4910033664835708332009-04-16T07:20:00.000-07:002009-04-16T07:25:27.923-07:00Back in the SaddleOver the years, I've often wanted to be better at things than I am. Better than I probably am capable of being. It has frustrated and depressed me in equal measures. It is not so much that I won’t put the effort in if it is something I truly want, it is more that I struggle to see how I will ever get to the place I want to be.<br /><br />What got me thinking about this was a book I recently read, named ‘Surf Nation’ by Alex Wade. The story of his travels round the British Isles surfing different breaks and meeting locals struck a chord with me. It also brought home how I always feel I am never quite at the level I want to be. The level he was at, to make his trip possible. I don’t want to be a pro or even one of the best at the break, I just want to be solid and hold my own. Maybe I’m being too hard on myself? This coupled with my current lack of mobility and being unable to do anything about it, may be, making me underestimate myself.<br /><br />But the same goes for my riding too. When things click together, I feel like I am riding well, the lines I’m taking fast and smooth and certain things on a bike come so easily to me. But do I ever get to that level where I want to be? That level where countless other people are and I always seem to be slightly behind? I don’t, no. What holds me back is a fear, a fear of failing and a presumption that what I'm trying won’t work. I fail before I even try.<br /><br />Maybe the way the media pumps images at us; of individuals performing impossible superhuman feats on bikes or boards, means we defeat ourselves before we have even tried?<br /><br />My first reaction after shattering my tibia and fibula, was to pack in anything too adventurous and adrenalin filled. Not because I didn’t want to hurt myself, break something else or because I thought the plates in my leg would affect my performance. More because losing 6 months of your life to 1 thing is pretty tough mentally. It’s basically a pain in the ass!<br /><br />As my recovery has gone on and accelerated recently, my viewpoint has switched. Mainly, this has been due to nightly chats with Finn over how tough certain sports can be mentally, how you need to really love what you are doing to succeed at your level and how mentally you can grow from something like this. Why give up something you love, something that makes the world make sense and something that courses and flows through your entire being, body and soul? I owe this guy a lot for his advice. His dedication to the game of hockey is awe-inspiring.<br /><br />Additionally, meeting up with the Boss brought back a lot of memories of summers past when we rode and surfed from dawn until dusk. The Boss was the one rider who would push me, on the trail and in the water. He’d take me out of my comfort zone and push the boundaries of what I thought I could achieve.<br /><br />6 months out isn’t long. I’m incredibly lucky. I’ve got a good job, awesome girlfriend, great friends and a love for riding and surfing that cannot be taken away. I’ve learnt to be patient and more forgiving over the last 6 months and I’m a better more rounded person. Everything happens for a reason.<br /><br />My friends are going to be driven crazy once I’m back on my bike. I want, no I need, people to push me, force me beyond where is comfortable. We have the talent, so let’s make the most of it? I apologise in advance to any of them who get annoyed with me constantly pushing them to ride Wales and the Alps! But to me….the Captain, Sampras and the Boss, you guys have the ability to create memories that will last forever. Amongst our group we could be legends, so I make no apology for that. I want to look back when I’m 75 and smile, remembering how Sampras blitzed a black run in Wales, how the Boss nailed a jump at Lordswood and how the Captain rode singletrack as sweet and smooth as it has ever been ridden.<br /><br />Life is for living. I don’t have a death wish or the ability to be totally crazy. But when I finally get myself back out there, I’m going to make the most of it. Some people aren’t so lucky in life. I’m going to sort out my issues in the dirt and the waves.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630316790806498940.post-3425744150563590162009-04-07T03:31:00.000-07:002009-04-07T04:11:15.959-07:00The 3 legs of the TripodRecently I had a day off from work (not that I needed it, with the events of the last 4-5 months!!) and met up with a couple of friends; the Captain and the Boss.<br /><br />Now the Captain I see on a regular basis. He lives near to me and works in the same office as I do. As I've mentioned before, he's like a brother and is always there with good advice when needed.<br /><br />The Boss on the other hand, I had not seen for a year. He went walkabout last March and was nowhere to be found. He was following his own journey, searching for the way and I admired that. When he recently surfaced, I found out he was in the armed forces and is now getting ready to be deployed to Afghanistan. I think he's finally found some peace within himself and it's a great thing to see. This guy will always be like a brother and after speaking for a few minutes we fell back into a smooth groove of conversation with ease.<br /><br />Meeting up with these 2, we talked about lots of good times from the past. Mischief we had got up to and road trips long forgotten, that had since been replaced by new memories. Every time we remembered something that had us laughing, we would be shocked to realise it happened 5 years ago or more. Where had the time gone?<br /><br />The Captain and the Boss are 2 polar opposites, yet when you know them as well as I do, you can see how similar they actually are. The 2 of them would often fight like cat and dog and were forever falling out with each other. But I do believe deep down, they genuinely cared and still do, care for one another.<br /><br />My first ever road/surf trip was undertaken with these two. This was about 9 years ago and would become a template for a period of about 5 years in our early 20's. We had Easter trips that became traditional; the Good Friday and Easter Sunday sessions. Then there was the September Sessions, forever ingrained in memory from the house sized waves coming in and the broken boards that greeted our arrival. Finally our swansong was the summer the Boss lived out of his car in Croyde Bay for 5 months and we regularly criss-crossed the westcountry looking for different breaks.<br /><br />I clearly remember one Good Friday 5 years ago. The weather was cold, the sky looked miserable and I had agreed to drive us down at 6am. Obviously I thought it was a great idea to go out the night before. The clock struck 6 and on cue the Captain drove round having already collected the Boss. After hanging out my bedroom window to greet them and receiving my dressing down from the Captain for not being anywhere near ready, I was pleased to notice the Boss was also in a semi-comatose hangover condition. Being in no fit state to drive, the Captain had to take my keys and drive us to Devon, picking up Merlin on the way.<br /><br />I'll always remember those 6 hours spent in the car. Pulling over in deepest Dorset to allow me and the Boss to throw up on what we then dubbed hangover hill, the Boss and Merlin having a waterfight and then a foodfight in the back of the car, my pair of gloves being used to torture, touch, stroke and irritate our designated driver repeatedly from the back of the car, the 4 of us lasting 30 minutes in the water before our eyeballs froze over, my refusal to drive my own car, the pit stops at McDonalds and the race against time to get back for a night out in Winchester.<br /><br />The 3 of us spent a good few hours laughing and remembering those memories, along with others - the Boss breaking his arm skateboarding (when we were 25!), our first attempts at bbq-ing and using vodka as lighter fuel, our first mountain bike rides, the Boss cooking burgers on his car engine at 8am, discovering an old concrete skate bowl from the 70's, how we funded the September Sessions on 'dubiously' obtained petrol in a jerry can, finding an abandoned boat in a car park, strapping it to the roof of a pickup and selling it on ebay to fund another month of surfing and a random night out in the westcountry with only £20 to our name, which involved befriending a newly released prisoner, hitch hiking and then blagging a taxi ride for miles free of charge, whilst fending off the unfriendly advances of the local Royal Marines!<br /><br />I got the Captain's wife to take a photo of the 3 of us. Although times have now changed and moved on - we may never experience another road trip together and I may never surf with either of these boys again - that photo will always freeze a single moment in time and remind me of the things we shared and the sights we have seen together.<br /><br />I will always remember our camping and surf trips, the skateboarding at night in summer, riding through the woods and forest on a dry evening, sitting by the fire swapping war stories, our road trip snack of choice - mini cheddars, sleeping in the back of the Boss's pick up and waking on the cliff to see beautiful clean lines of swell......but most of all, with 2 people like brothers, I'll always remember the 3 legs of the tripod.Nick Coulsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11968571242667322409noreply@blogger.com0