What It's Like To Learn to Surf at 37 Years Old

When we moved to Costa Rica, I envisioned myself surfing every day. I had the goal to live out my Blue Crush dreams that were smashed early on in life by living in a landlocked state. I expected to show up at the beach, fall many times over, but then catch some amazing waves. And sure, I knew it would be challenging because starting any new skill is always challenging, let alone when you’re drowning at the same time. But I couldn’t quite fathom HOW challenging it would be. And how much I would get my ego simply destroyed day in and day out…all while being bruised and injured most of the time.

To put it mildly, surfing is very very hard.

If you’ve never surfed before or only taken one or two surf lessons in some smaller waves (like I had before moving to Costa Rica), you’ve probably felt like a dummy on the board but thought, “This is so fun!” Well let me paint a picture for you of what exactly happens when learning to surf, especially without the help of an instructor pushing your board in some whitewash.

Here is what a normal day of learning to surf feels like at 37 years old:

You get to the beach, wax your board, and set out down the beach to scope out the waves to find the best spot, knowing that it will immediately change the moment you get out there because the ocean gives zero fucks about your plan.

As you get into the water, you feel happy and excited to see how the day goes. It’s early in the morning so the sun is just coming up and you’re one of the few people in the ocean. So you take it all in and think about how lucky you are to be alive and how fortunate you are to be in this exact place at this exact moment.

Then a wave comes in and you have to turtle roll with your board. If you don’t know what a turtle roll is, I’m sure you can figure it out, but this move is performed when you’re on a longer board because it’s too big to dive under the wave like Kate Bosworth. So you flip under your board and hold on for your goddamn life, with your arms being almost ripped out of their sockets in the meantime. Then you come up for air with just enough time to see another wave coming. So you do it all over again, all while your hair is in your face, your eyes are burning, and you just accidentally drank who knows how much water that you are certain is filled with plenty of fish sperm and feces. This process continues over and over again until the set ends and you can flail back onto the board to paddle like your life depends on it and finally get past the waves.

And just for reference, while you feel like you’re drowning and getting put through a washing machine cycle, the waves look extremely small to everyone else on the beach. You look ridiculous.

Now once you’re finally past the waves, you sit on your board to breathe and tell yourself that you’re not a little bitch and can actually do this. That’s when you finally see a wave coming that doesn’t feel too intimidating. So you turn your board towards the beach, looking back at the wave to find that perfect spot, even though you still have no clue where that perfect spot is. You start paddling, then start paddling fucking hard, and you miss it. Luckily, another one is coming so you think, “I’ve got this” but you don’t. Ok? You don’t “got this” at all. The wave crashes on top of your head and it feels like a truck hit you.

Let me remind you, these aren’t even big waves. We aren’t surfing pipeline here, people.

And then you do it all over again - paddle for your fucking life, finally get outside of the impact zone, to sit on your board and catch your breath. But then nothing comes. You’re just sitting, watching water moving, hoping it’s going to be a wave. Minutes go by and you’re now bored and starting to get a sunburn. The thoughts, “Do I just call it a day and go in?” start to run through your mind and you start saying, “Just one more wave.” But, as I said before, the ocean gives zero fucks about your daily schedule or skin cancer. All it cares about is making your life challenging.

Luckily, the perfect wave starts rolling in right where you are. It’s your moment. It’s your time to show the world what you got and to not look like a complete and total idiot. It’s your time to prove to yourself that age is just a number and you can do anything. And guess what you do? You’re too far forward on your board and you nose dive. You fucking nose dive and the ocean laughs as it sweeps you under to hold you there for a bit. You come up screaming because you were never taught how to process big feelings, and slap the water like you’re going to teach the ocean a lesson.

But that’s the thing about learning a new skill - your anger, frustration, and ego mean nothing to the skill. Your time and energy do.

So you grab your board and do it all over again. Day after day, hoping that one day you’ll finally be better. But in the meantime, you:

Nose dive 138290430 times.
Fall off the side of your board 24898301 times.
Miss 8429313910393910309 waves.
Fall onto your board and bruise your shoulder.
Get hit in the face by your board and get a fat lip.
Get your ankle wrapped around your fin on a wave and cut it open.
Break your leash.
Cut your knee while also breaking part of your board.
Deal with knee pain from surfing and have to do hip mobility constantly to ease the pain.
Cut back on surfing to ease the knee pain and get worse at surfing.
Get your board stolen and have to buy a new board.
Finally ride a wave that makes you feel like you’re an actual surfer.
Suck for weeks after that one good day.
Catch 50 good waves in total. Maybe.

And you know what’s the most fucked up part about it? You keep going back for more. You get smashed into the earth over and over again, you question your sanity of trying to do something that has and will get you injured, and then you just keep going back for more. Stockholm Syndrome, at it’s finest.

I wish I could say that I love surfing, but I think that feeling of love only comes on good surfing days and MY GOD did I suck at surfing today. Ask me on a better day. But love also comes with time, through discipline and dedication. Love shows itself when the person keeps showing up, no matter how beaten down they feel. Rememeber - Stockholm Syndrome. So that’s what I’m going to keep doing. I’m going to keep showing up, after finishing my hip mobility obviously, and I’m going to keep looking like an absolute fucking idiot, all in hopes of looking like I know what I’m doing someday. It will probably take years, but I think I’ll get there…right? Someday I will live out my mother fucking Blue Crush dreams…at least the barefoot-bikini life. Minus the bikini while surfing. HOWWWW do women keep bikinis on while surfing? The math ain’t mathing.