body surfing

panicking after my quadruple underwater somersault, i swim hastily for a fresh breath, but i slam into the sea floor and quickly realize i've chosen the wrong direction. flipping around i plant my feet on the aquatic quicksand only to immediately snap my legs straight open and explode upwards out of the ocean.
i voraciously inhale air as soon as it hits my face. sand-laced winds batter my cooking skin. i relish a slow breath or two and clear my eyes in time to see the next mass of water approaching.
it's already taller than me and it hasn't even gathered its full potential. the energy rushing towards my frail frame in enormous, and the liquid in my chosen six-foot width must weigh upwards of two hundred tons. i spin around and freestyle towards shore, racing as if in a city-wide swim meet, and i can still feel my body being pulled helplessly out to sea. i catch the tip of the breaking wave perfectly, pumping my legs furiously to keep up with the immense power. i am at least ten feet above the surface of the water, flying towards the beach. i give one last arm pull and zoom forward like the rocketeer, traveling over twenty meters at automobile velocities until the giant water wall collapses on itself with a thunderous crash, taking me with it face first into the sandy bottom.
i emerge in a foamy wasteland, now able to stand in the knee-height surf. i stumble towards the dry sand and stop near a inquisitive gull.
i sway slightly in place, dripping with cold salt, mesmerized in my natural euphoria.
the edge of the atlantic.