Surf Addiction

I had to admit to myself a few years ago that I was addicted.

Surfing, surf literature, surf forecasts, surf cams, surf gear, surfboards, surf mates. 

My days revolve around surfing or thinking about surfing. It is non stop. If the surf is good I'm there (work and family do sometimes manage to keep me contained) and if the surf is going to be good I'm watching it, thinking about it, texting my mates, planning my sessions.

The worst days are when I'm 'flexibly' working from home and know I'll be surfing at some point. I could go now, but I predict the banks, tide, size, or winds will be just right later—and I can only surf once today...

So while I'm 'working' I just sit there flicking between surf cams, looking at live wind data and the Cape Sorell Buoy, my leg bouncing nervously. God forbid I hear the dreaded words 'it was cookin an hour ago'.

It's hard to describe the feeling. I want to go surfing, of course I do, but I also need to feel productive, hang with my wife, see my friends. The desire to surf, especially in a session that probably won't even be good, has an underlying guilt. There's a distinct relief I feel when the conditions are so unsurfable that the decision is taken out of my hands. 

When non-surfers look from the outside surfing seems like a good one, and honestly it is. It's cheap, healthy, fulfilling, wild, adventurous and competitive. But it is also more of a compulsion than I think they would understand (though my wife definitely gets it). Some days, the not good days, I surf because I have to. I hate to miss a good session, or even a mid session, if there's a chance there will be a wave I feel compelled to give it a run.

So what is so addictive about surfing that we just can't help it? I think it is different for everybody, but I'd say the addiction itself is the common thread amongst surfers. I don't understand (though I could be wrong) how someone could get to a good level if they don't feel that compulsion to surf. Not every day is clean, or warm, or enticing, but the lack of repetition in waves, sections and possible manoeuvres means surfing and surfing often is the only way.

For me the addiction lies in progression, not of surfing on the whole, but of my own surfing. The precise draw of a new carve or digging the rail in a new way on a section I haven't seen for weeks. My progression in surfing fluctuates between an excruciating crawl and exhilarating leaps and bounds, there's always something to work on and finding those pockets of progression compels me constantly. 

I haven't changed much since I started thinking about surfing as my addiction. In fact I moved closer to the beach, bought 4 new boards and now surf more days per year than I ever did before. But when I'm trying to work from home and can feel the draw of the ocean, the guilt of being unproductive washing over me, it can be helpful to think of it as an addiction.

Just an addiction.

But then I'll have a session that is so good, so mind-blowingly perfect I think that perhaps 'addiction' is too strong a word.

Maybe we've just stumbled upon the meaning of life...