“…No one had ever ridden waves that big. Period. So we didn’t know if we were going into a black hole never to be seen again. Regardless of how it was perceived from the outside, we operated conservatively within the environment. We always say: Ride to ride another day. We go out there with the attitude that we’re going to do it in a way that we can do it again tomorrow.” – Laird Hamilton

One of my favorite shows in recent memory is ICONOCLASTS. The basic premise is that you take two very influential, respected, creative, inspiring, empowering people from two completely different backgrounds and you put them together for a little while. You let them live inside each other’s world for a bit.

Incredible lessons spill from these pairings.

What’s fascinating is that the elements that are similar between the two always seem to outweigh the differences. Their perspectives, influences, background, struggles, motives, hopes, even the creative process…It’s all aligned, and terribly fascinating.

One of my favorite episodes of all time featured the Laird Hamilton and Eddie Vedder. Look, it’s very hard to not envy Laird (or Eddie, come to think of it). His full-time job is to surf the largest, most dangerous waves found on this planet.

And he does that very well.

Image by jai Mansson's photography. via Flickr

He lives on an expansive and beautiful rural Hawaiian property. He’s married to a professional athlete and super-model, Gabrielle Reece, and has two healthy, vibrant kids. From what I can gather, his consciousness exists on some other wave-length, separate from our own. The guy might as well be an alien…or perhaps a mutant. I can’t figure.
What I do know is that the guy can’t complain.

Any guy would love to be him. Or more simply, more honestly, would love to have that ability. To jump on a piece of waxy wood and ride the back of a true natural phenomenon. A force of nature.

Adventure surfing is no different than jumping onto a raging elephant. The odds of injury or death…well…It will happen. It should happen. But to Laird, it somehow doesn’t. He’s the action hero in this picture and death is just not an option.

I’d love to be able to surf like that. Baby steps, Chris. Maybe I could start with just some simple lessons? Like how to actually stand up on a board without immediately falling into the shallow surf. Maybe I could catch a two foot wave first, and then I could begin to set my sights on something approaching ten feet! Can you even imagine that?

To be clear, I’m likely never going to experience the rush of big time surfing. I know my skill set. I know my body type. Cat like reflex and balance are not in my repertoire. But I do know quite a bit about training. And what’s amazing to me is how closely the lesson of surfing aligns with what is required for optimal performance.

How do you position yourself in the water? When do you pick the right wave? How hard to you fight to catch it? And most importantly, how long should you stay on before you risk being driven head first into the rocky shore? This, in essence, is what you must know to get the most of your training.

I experienced this firsthand just last night.

After some squats and presses, I planned on performing 15 sprints pushing a sled. The distance was maybe 30 yards. To be clear, 5 of these sprints is enough to make me huff and puff, so I knew 15 would be something short of fun.

At first I delayed a bit. I took off my shoes. I got some water. I stretched, not that I really needed it. Maybe I was waiting to catch my wave. Waiting for just the right time. Yeah.
As soon as the work got under way, I realized that I probably picked too many repetitions. One sprint down, two…six…eight…At this point I could feel everything about to flip. The 30 second intervals between the trips weren’t going to be enough. I wasn’t sure I could finish without breaking the contract. The deal I made with myself before I started.

“Dude, you are the one who said 15 reps. You agreed to it!”

“I know.”

“And you were the one who thought 30 seconds would be enough rest!”

“Yes, I get it. Don’t remind me.”

“So shut up and do it!”

Odd to have such a conversation with yourself, but it worked. At that moment, I caught the wave. I stood up. I had it. My fatigue subsided. My mood elevated. I felt really, really good. I was able to take the next sprint with an adrenaline inspired bounce.

I finished the remaining 7 sprints in short order without any doubt, dread, or undue misery. It was a fantastic conditioning session.

It could have been lifting, swimming, throwing, or anything else. It wouldn’t matter. What mattered was that I paddled hard enough to get myself out ahead of the wave. I broke out of my laziness and doubt. I was patient enough to stand.

Once you feel yourself there, flowing in the moment, you need to dwell in that place for a while. Ride it out as far as you can.

But keep in mind, every wave will break. You’ll fatigue. You will tire. You may get hurt. Better to step off the wave now, before that happens. Before the wipeout.

Take Laird’s advice. When you train, do it in a way that will allow you to do it again tomorrow.

Related articles

• Surfers in Tahiti ride waves so big they cancel contest (gadling.com)
• Gabby Reece on Getting Physical With Laird Hamilton (fitsugar.com)
• Words That Move You . . . (fitsugar.com)