What Surfing Taught Me About Life

You can learn a lot from something you suck at.

I watched the movie Blue Crush for the first time in 2020, right after I moved home from Australia, and it made me ugly cry.

Watching people surf just brought up so many feelings and it caught me off guard to be honest.

I learned to surf while I was living in Australia in 2020. At the time, I’d just arrived back in Canada in the height of COVID and the depth of winter.

I loved and missed the ocean, hence the tears.

I still sucked hard at surfing by the time I moved away, but that’s unsurprising.

A longtime surfer once said to me you have to surf probably four times a week for a year straight before you’re even a beginner. That’s over 200 sessions. To be…a beginner.

Talk about a learning curve.

At the time, hearing this took the pressure off. The progression would come through repetition and perseverance. There was nothing I could do to force it, so I relaxed.

My goal wasn’t to be good — that was unrealistic for a long time to come. My goal was to enjoy the experience, which is why it taught me so much.

Here’s what I learned from learning to surf:

1. Respect the f*cking ocean

Lesson: Acceptance is the path of least resistance.

You can’t go into the ocean with demands or expectations. You can’t wish the waves were different.

All you can do is surf what the ocean is serving hot and fresh that day, or get out the damn water.

There was a beach I went to quite a bit with a current that tended to carry you away from where you should be surfing. I was told I would tire myself out if I tried to paddle against it; I was better off letting the waves carry me to the beach, walking around and hopping back in.

I insisted on paddling against the current, and the ocean showed me no mercy.

Eventually, I left my ego on the beach.

I surrendered and saved my energy. As a result, I caught more waves.

Nonacceptance = torture. Trust me.

2. Eating sand is part of the fun

Lesson: Your enjoyment depends on your attitude.

A month after moving down under, I went to a surf camp on Australia’s East Coast for a week where we surfed up to six hours a day. I can honestly say that’s the most sand I’ve ever had in and around my body and/or existence.

On the first day, I bailed face-first into the ocean floor and ate sand. By day four, my body was covered in sand burns.

There are no shortcuts in surfing.

You can’t opt-out of sucking, looking stupid or swallowing saltwater.

You have two choices: get frustrated and quit, or get excited about being terrible.

I chose the latter. That way, when I surfed for two hours and only stood up on one wave, it was still a win. I wore my sand burns and board rash as badges of honour.

Every surf was good because I showed up and did it.

3. You have to struggle through the small waves to surf the big ones

Lesson: The little struggles prepare you for the big ones.

I learned to paddle out to the back — where you catch ‘green’ waves — on a windy day. The breaking waves were so strong I legitimately thought my shoulders were going to fall off from the paddling.

The idea of catching a wave and doing it all over again wasn’t appealing. So I sat on my board, enjoyed the view, and watched the sky light up with lightning (a true YOLO moment).

I’m glad I pushed myself that day, but it also showed me I wasn’t ready. I went back to surfing the small stuff close to shore after that.

Surfing green waves is a skill that requires patience and practice.

You have to sit out there, watch/read the waves and wait. You have to be a strong paddler so you can get enough momentum to get in front of the wave.

How do you become good at those skills?

Surfing the shallow stuff and doing a ton of paddling.

There’s value in everything leading up to conquering a difficult skill, but it’s easy to forget about since it’s not as sexy.

4. Fear is relative

Lesson: You define what’s scary, and that definition isn’t fixed.

One time a jellyfish tentacle wrapped itself around my leg while I was surfing and stung me. Badly.

In case you’re wondering, no, urine doesn’t help.

I’m not gonna sugarcoat the experience —I was in unrelenting pain and discomfort for 72 hours. My ankle swelled up like a balloon and I couldn’t think straight.

After that, I was scared shitless to get back in the ocean. Then I found out I was leaving Aus earlier than I expected.

The only photo I have of my jelly sting (it wraps around the back of my leg). This was after the swelling went down.

I loved surfing and I couldn’t imagine leaving like this, so I called in some help.

I hired a private surf instructor and it was some of the best money I’ve probably ever spent. I told him my sting story and he said he’s been stung dozens of times and it’s just part of surfing.

It made me feel like a little bitch, but also made me realize fear is relative.

He taught me a new pop-up technique. He was so excited to get me catching waves again and encouraging that I didn’t feel an ounce of fear during our session.

There’s something about being around people who aren’t afraid that makes you question your fear and be more willing to abandon it.

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I know these emails are normally made up of a bunch of lists, but today, I thought I’d just give you one big juicy list.

Now get out there and have some fun sucking.

— Reggie