Opening Paragraph Draft

7:00 in the morning on a Saturday, I feel a strong, aged hand on my shoulder, "wake up, get dressed, lets go the boards are loaded" my dad tells me. I slide out of bed and throw on my Mexican fiesta inspired board shorts and a plain white shirt and head downstairs into darkness. 3 hours later, I have arrived, my proving ground is waiting for me. I open the golden Dodge Ram 1500 door and like a slap in the face it hits me, that salty aroma and beautiful sound of waves crashing on the shore that can be found nowhere else but here, here at this place, this place were until today I had known nothing but agonizing defeat. My bare feet when stepping out onto the smouldering pavement are at first met with the nice warmth of pavement that has been shaded by the newly arrived truck. But that nice, almost friendly warmth has turned into a pavement that has been repeatedly scorched by the sun. My experience although pays off when i stick to the painted canary yellow parking lines that are not nearly as blistering as that unforgiving pavement under the cloudless, clear blue sky. After throwing away my gourmet McDonald's leftovers, I make my way onto the lightly sanded boardwalk , flanked by sea oats, to check the lineup and find a good break. After about 25 yards I'm at the end of the boardwalk, i look to my left at the weather worn once white lifeguard stand that's perched just out of reach of high tide to check the warning flag, its yellow, medium warning...perfect day. As I gaze out at the beach in front of me to the left there are the typical fisherman wading out into waste high water and right in front of me some kids bobbing up and down in there pink floaties, but then i spot it on the right my break, that beautiful blueish green water smashing against itself and creating that off-white foam that only waves make, this is the place i will prove i can.