On my first wave of the day, I caught a left on which I pumped quickly. I went up for a hit, and reflecting on the inner monologue pep talk I'd given myself on the ride over, made an effort to stay over my board more. I hit it with a diagonal trajectory and did a better job than I normally do on the hit. I ALMOST pulled it, but God had other plans for me at that time, presumably for me to roll around in the whitewash, sans board.
I had a lot of middling waves on which I'd pump and get no reward for my efforts, including a screamer that I went forever on only to have it mush over.
The crowds were steadily building and the foam-to-rider ratio was reaching critical levels. I was in position and paddled hard for the wave of the day when a guy on a log to my inside decided he didn't want to mess up his hair by duckdiving out of my way. I pulled back, bummed. The guy apologized and I told him not to worry about it, but deep down, I was bummed.
I had to go in after about forty-five minutes due to a client appointment in Vista, which ended up cancelling due to illness. Bah...!