One Year Ago This Tuesday...I started my Year Long Fundraiser...July 26, 2010.
And it all ends on July 26, 2011.

Stepping off and onto the beach one year ago this Tuesday, I sort of knew what I was getting into. Having done this before and all, I was not exactly sailing into un chartered territories. 10 years ago it was all new to me. I really didn't know what I was getting into. This time around was different. I knew. Or put it this way, I thought I knew. But I'm here to tell you, that barring any other unforeseen situations it was anything but. I mean, I had so many different things happen to me this year, that I really don't where to start.

But honestly? It's not over. Today is Sunday, and I have two more days.

And with my luck? Oh hell no, it's not over yet. And I won't call it over until my last day and ride. That's Tuesday July 26, 2011 at 6PM...at 10th Street at North Beach where it all started. I hope you can all join me for that final wave. And by joining me I mean just that. Join me out in the water. If you surf I want you out there with me. Otherwise, you can hang on the beach and take it all in.

I want this, or rather I'm hoping this, will be a special day. With all my friends and family joining me and the Rowlees on the beach. A celebration of sorts. I know you are all familiar with the BLATANT DROP IN OF THE WEEK well, I'm hoping we can get as many people in the water as possible and have them all drop in together on me on that final wave. It will be the ultimate DROP IN Photo. I mean think about it.

If we could get 50 to 100 people all dropping in on me? That's classic.

Of course I'm not sure it's possible. But it will be fun trying. The thing we have to do is go straight. There's no turning involved. We have to all go straight in...and we all have to salute. And you salute with your RIGHT HAND. None of this left hand saluting stuff. So get practicing. Go straight and salute.

My intentions for this week's column was to re-cap the whole year...but the more I thought about it, the more I realized the year is NOT up. And I didn't want to jinx myself by doing a recap of something that was clearly not over. What's the old saying? It ain't over, till the fat Lady Sings? Well it's not over until the Old Fat Dude catches his Final wave. That happens on Tuesday at 6PM at 10th Street.

Next week I'll run the photo journal of this past year. July 26-2010 July 26-2011.

I've been collecting pics from last July until this July and I'll tell you, it's been pretty impressive. Not to mention the weather itself. It's been one hell of a ride this past year. I really missed heading into the mountains this winter. I knew how good the snow was. Hell, Nevins wouldn't let any of us forget it anyway.

But as good as the mountains were this past year the surf was just as good.

And you'll see that. I mean some of the winter storms we had produced some insane waves. And I surfed every single one of them. Every swell. Every storm. I got pretty good at paddling again. I remember 10 years ago when I did this the first time. My paddling was insane. It's the same thing this time around. I jokingly say to my friends, "I could paddle to France and back before any of you could paddle out and catch a wave!" That's a joke of course. But honesty? I can paddle.

Even today. I went for my wave and I saw about 6 potential hitchhikers looking to catch and ride the same wave. But by the time any of them could even come close to catching the wave, I was up and riding, and saluting, and taking a freaking photo of myself. Yes, I had it all down. Catching small waves that were hardly showing was something that I got really good at.

It got to the point where I actually enjoyed surfing small waves. I felt like a grom.

And really how bad could that be? Having the stoke of young grom?

Are you kidding me? Who doesn't want that feeling back? In anything in life, let alone surfing. Watch the groms sometime. They are over the top stoked. That's
how I became after a while. I started getting more and more excited surfing small waves. Don't get me wrong, I was clearly excited surfing good waves and bigger waves. But those small days? Oh I was getting into them.

I know a lot of you are wondering what I will do the next day. Wednesday?

Will I surf? Or is it really over? Well, here's the truth. If there's surf? I'm surfing. That's easy. The real question will be, whether or not I will attempt surfing if it's really small. What I've found out from 10 years ago was this. The impulse, the daily ritual, or whatever you want to call it, becomes a part of your day. It's like being in War.
You do the same things over and over again.

Then your tour is up. You are excited to go home and be with your family and friends again, but you are also sad to be leaving your friends behind. And leaving that life behind as well. It's that bittersweet feeling. That sense of something that is now become such a big part of you, is now over...

Look I am not comparing War to surfing. But having been to both, there are similarities to both. Remember, I've been here before. And I know what's coming.
I will share with you what happened ten years ago on the day after my last day.

It was after all the hoopla had died down. The celebration, the checks to the ADA had been collected, the press was gone, the friends and family were gone. It was just me sitting in my office. There were no wave cams back then, So I had no idea what the surf was doing. My young son Max would come into my office and ask..."Dad are we going down to catch a wave?" I would look at him and say "No it's over.." but all day long he kept coming down into my office. It was as if he needed this as much as I did. But I kept my cool.

All day long fighting the urge to at least drive down and look at the ocean.

I was determined to let it go. And about an hour before dark, the feelings became too powerful to control. I could not hold it back any longer. I shut my computers off and ran upstairs. Max was in his room and I yelled to him. "Mackey let's go!" I heard him jump up and run to the door. We grabbed our boards and wetsuits and loaded them into the vehicle.

I'll never forget that look on his face. That longing he had for me to continue.

We pulled up at 10th street and jumped out. The waves were about one foot. But
the tide was too high. I stood there looking at it. Max was looking at the surf, and back at me waiting for the word to hit it. But it was not there. Then as if by some transparent thread we both looked at each other, and said "Surfer's Beach!" (Sawyers). It is after all, a high tide break. We both jumped back into the vehicle and sped north.

Flying by the ocean we could clearly see that there was really nothing to surf.

Pulling up along the beach, we jumped out, and scaled the small rocky bern. We both stood there. It was tiny. We slowly sat down. If we had seen anything at all that we could ride, we would of been in our suits. But there was nothing. It was half a foot at best. We sat there looking, and staring out to sea...it was getting dark...and there was nothing to ride. 10 years ago I surfed in memory of my father Gus. He was Max's grandfather. So we talked about him. We laughed and cried.

And so it became this peaceful, quiet ending, to this long journey.

So will the same thing happen on Wednesday? I don't know. If there's surf, I will surf because, well because I'm a surfer. I will surf until the day I die. But if it's flat? Like 10 years ago? Well, tune in next week when I recap it all. The past year and the last day. Because I can't really sit here and tell you one way or another what I will do.

I do know this. I will give Meighan and Kirean Rowlee the biggest hug.

And I will possibly crush Buck when I lift him up and hug him. And I'm sure I will kiss and hug so many of you all night...and I will feel at peace knowing that I did what I had set out to do one year ago this week. And I will give thanks and praise to all who supported me with your undying love and to those who donated to this cause.

I will never ever forget what you all have done to help keep the memory of Molly alive and the others on my board. My mother Eva. My friend Joe. My friend Linda. Bud, Winnie and Wendy and all the others who we have lost their battle to cancer...

And finally I will also think of my kid sister Evamarie who will be on her 2nd day of Radiation treatment on Tuesday at Mass General in Boston and pray to God that she gets better, and beats this thing once and for all.

And I will always know that in the future that when things get tough that I will have Surfing as my savior because as you all know by now...

"Surfing Heals All Wounds..."