Eight months ago, Dave finally convinced me to wake up at 4am, drive with him to a surf spot about an hour or so from Dubai, and get myself on a surfboard. After an entire morning of wipeouts, motivational talks, and not to mention bikini malfunctions, I was bruised, I had a nasty cut on my lower lip and I was half-dead and stayed so for the next two days. But I managed to stand four times. Out of the twenty or so attempts. And each of those four rides were so exhilarating that I found myself wanting more despite my body's cries for mercy.
