Consider this: Will more of your surf career be spent getting better or worse? Photo: Josh Gill
Has it happened to you?
The moment you miss the section for that slapdash turn and then decide to let the next set wave pass. The time you scratch with the might of Samson only to be out-paddled by some Zach Morris look-a-like who does two big turns on their way to science class.
With his most recent Tahitian resurgence, Kelly’s glorious bald head might seem to offer proof that you can keep improving your surfing well in to your forties. But he is the exception rather than the rule. Even for me, at the ripe old age of twenty-eight, I’m becoming more and more aware of stagnation.
It’s a hard thing to accept. For twenty years I’ve focused on improving every aspect of my surfing. Indulgently, I’ve spent hours reliving waves trying to imagine what I could have done better and studied photo upon photo trying to make sure my stance is as Mozart-chic as possible.
Every surfer slash reader’s favorite short-sentenced pal Hemingway says, “There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self.”
But what can you do when lady time is letting your cognitive and physical reflexes drain from the hour glass?
At its core, surfing is about enjoyment. Our friends at Billabong helpfully tell us that only a surfer knows the feeling. This feeling? It must be joy.
It’s easy to take joy from improvement, much of our lives are geared so that we think in this way. Who doesn’t let their lips slowly part and twirl when they score that cute guy or gal that’s much better than their previous editions?
But this is where surfing differs from other sports. It’s a rare sight to see a group of fifty year olds heading for a game of football at the park or skating at the local bowl. There’s tennis and golf, perhaps – but let’s stick to decent sports, please!
So what is it that makes surfing so much more difficult to let go, that we’d be willing to swallow our pride and let our bones dissolve in the salt until we’re just a prone lump on a wave? Where can I find my joy now?
Einstein counters Hemingway, “Once we accept our limits, we go beyond them.”
Surfing goes beyond typical sports, because it isn’t a sport. Surfing is an experience that is above the simplicities of rules and achievement. It’s difficult to let go of because there is a sense of solace in the ocean that many can’t find on land.
Einstein’s cheeky text message tells me that if I can accept the limit of my ability I can be happy by finding joy elsewhere in the water, and one genius should never doubt another genius.
Acceptance is critical because the cruelest part of all of this is that while I have had 20 fine years, if all goes to plan there will be at least another 40 years slip, sliding away. More of my surfing career (a self-serving choice of word, sure) will be spent getting worse than getting better.
So I need to be happy with pushing an arm rather than a body into a barrel because it doesn’t really matter if I’m in the barrel at all. What means something is that I’m sitting in an ocean of boundless energy that could at any point do anything to me and often I’m doing this with like-minded and largely friendly individuals while my hair gets some frosty little tips that ladies tend to like. And isn’t that the greatest metaphor for getting through life.
But really if I can do all the above I just hope that there’s a chance I can avoid becoming that bald middle-aged guy that paddles around aggressively from peak to peak in the search of something far more than any one or wave can provide him. Because when it comes to the end of it, time ain’t friendly, but surfing sure is pretty.
