Dear Rory: “Is surfing worth it?”

It's a hard sell when you're fighting for onshore scraps with self-centered assholes…

Dear Rory,

I have given the act of wave riding most of my best years. I’m heading towards 40 now and still manage to spend a lot of time in the water, but I can’t shake the feeling that I should be doing something else. Surfing has given me a decent level of fitness but there’s a thousand sports that will do the same without the time commitment or the frustration levels. I’ve given so much time and effort to becoming a slightly aging, average to competent surfer. Is surfing worth it?

Sliding that Midlife Crisis 

Dear Rory says: I really want to say, “Yes! It’s totally worth it. Only a surfer knows the feeling. You’ve become one with the aquatic mother Gaia. The rest of the world are sad, unhip, dry-land losers.”

But that’d be a lie.

Truth be told, surfing is pretty much a waste of time. It doesn’t improve anything. Doesn’t help anyone. We can try to pretend that it’ll help you find an emotional center, serve as a crutch as you struggle through your day to day. But that’s a hard sell when you’re fighting for onshore scraps with your hundred fellow self-centered assholes.

Surfing will never make you a better person. Judging by your average wave slider it might actually make you a worse one.

Truth be told, surfing is pretty much a waste of time. It doesn’t improve anything. Doesn’t help anyone. We can try to pretend that it’ll help you find an emotional center, serve as a crutch as you struggle through your day to day. But that’s a hard sell when you’re fighting for onshore scraps with your hundred fellow self-centered assholes.

But the nice thing about life… there’s no point. You’re just gonna put one foot in front of the other until you drop dead. Hopefully in some sort of awesome explosion, or a naked lady avalanche. The latter being my choice of demise.

The real problem with surfing is that we all treat it as part of our identity. I know I do. It’s in there with the other labels I apply to myself. Writer, lover, diver, really-big-penis-haver, surfer. In that order.

And that’s a bit of a curse. What do you do when you realize you don’t love your own identity? It’s a part of growing up, for sure, and we all go through it at some point or another. But getting hit with that realization hammer well into adulthood absolutely fucking sucks.

What to do?

Just quit for a bit. When surfing stops being fun, stop doing it. Maybe for a short period. Maybe for forever. It just doesn’t matter. Nothing does.

You’ll lose your tan, your shoulder muscles will wither, but odds are that one day you’ll wake up and feel like going for a surf. You’ll have fun. Rediscover the stoke. Yeah, your ability will suffer, but who cares? It’s not like any of us are that good to begin with.

Take up another hobby in the meantime. Feel free to keep it ocean related. Those big salty bodies of water hold a never ending source of fun and excitement.

Freediving is very fun. It dovetails well with ocean experience. It’s got an awesome, always lurking, potential for death. And there’s really no better way to feel alive than by dancing at the edge of the void.

Caught in a jam? Stuck in a pickle? Send your life questions to [email protected]. Due to volume Rory cannot respond to every letter.