Time To Surf

I just survived three weeks out of the water. That’s three weeks, mind you, during January, smack dab in the middle of Northern California’s prime wave season. No, I wasn’t injured, nor was I landlocked in Iowa. I was right here at home, just steps away from the beach. Working. And what’s more, I did this by choice. (Enter: Dramatic music and gasps from the crowd.)

It’s strange, really, how easily you can remove yourself from surfing despite how addictive the sport is. In my case, it was simply a matter of closing the shades and focusing my attention on the computer screen. The surf was out there, I knew, but it was temporarily not a part of my world. I might as well have been in Iowa for all that it mattered.

Now, I’ve certainly endured longer periods with no surf when there’s been a specific reason: non-surf travel, injuries, long flat spells and the like. But I honestly cannot remember a time since first learning how to surf when I was near breaking waves for as long and I simply chose to stay on land. Of course, I was terribly busy with work projects, personal commitments, and other important endeavors. If you’re saying, “No excuse,” you’re right on the mark. I made a conscious choice to focus on other interests, filing surfing wholly into the “distraction” category. Because let’s face it: Surfing is a distraction, albeit a damn pleasurable one. It distracts from work, relationships, even other recreational pursuits.

This led me to wonder: How much of my time does surfing demand? For fun, I decided to calculate how many hours I regularly devote to the sport, not including actual time in the water, because as we all know, time logged in the water is but a fraction of the commitment to the endeavor. I began first with time spent forecasting, planning, and predicting surf conditions. I estimate I spend a minimum of 5 hours per week tracking swell models, watching the weather, and strategizing my surf days and weeks. The all-important requirement of checking the surf- surveying different spots, assessing changing conditions and tides- eats up another 5 hours of my week (a conservative estimate). Equipment maintenance, such as board acquisition and tuning, wetsuit, leash, and wax upkeep, is essential for “surf-readiness” and for me takes up an additional 5 hours. Then there’s a category I’ll call “surf entertainment.” This includes reading surf magazines, perusing websites, watching surf-related film, TV, and video, or even talking story after a session (“Did you see that wave I got?”). This burns an additional 5 hours of each week on average. Finally, an often-overlooked time commitment entrenched in a regular surf schedule is sleep. Local San Francisco surf doc Mark Renneker once estimated that for every hour spent surfing in cold water, the human body requires an additional hour of sleep. If that is indeed the case, then for an average week with 5 two-hour surf sessions, I must factor in about 10 more hours to surf-related sleep per week, at least during the fall/winter season. Totaling all that up, that equals 30 hours per week during prime season that I devote to surfing, for just 10 hours of actual time spent in the water. More or less a full-time job. Is it any wonder why surfers regularly fail at work and relationships?

All this leads me to the following conclusion: Surfing demands involvement. If you’re not involved, you’re not surfing- period. That isn’t to say you need to devote 40 hours per week to remain dialed into the sport, but it does mean you need to stay involved on a regular basis, whether that’s checking your equipment once a week, checking the waves on a daily basis, or even talking to your friends who might be surfing a little more than you. You might have to make a business trip to Omaha, but that doesn’t mean you can

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