I've always been fascinated with surfing. It started while I was living in Orange County and attempted the sport on Laguna Beach. The waves were massive, the water warm. But, no matter how many times I watched the movie Blue Crush, I had no chance at actually following through and riding a wave. I was also incredibly intimidated by the surfing community. Back then I was in my early twenties and assumed that everyone who partook in the sport, had the same body measurements as the cast members on "The Hills" reality show.
Today, as I was happily running one of my many weekly miles, I came across several black figures dotting the ocean. Surfers. The first thing that I thought was, "what a perfect sport to know how to do when you're stuck in quarantine." It's a solitude sport but one that relies on a community. Wearing full-body wetsuits, the surfers were at least six feet apart. But I imagined them feeling this tremendous sense of camaraderie as they balanced on their boards, one at a time, sharing the waves. Part of me was envious, part of me was inspired.
As I continued running along the ocean wall, I saw several other surfers emerging from their vehicles, fully suited with massive boards tucked under their arms. Not a single one of them looked like they walked off the set of Laguna Hills. They were all ages...men, women, different shapes and sizes, I'm guessing different professions. And yet, they had one thing in common...coming together in the form of solitude, in a world that is as uncertain as the next wave that passes.
So, who wants to teach me how to surf?