Is surfing making me a miserable person?

I’m sitting in my container the central Sahara Desert catching some pixilated heat highlights from the current WSL competition on my iPhone. My door is open and several colleagues are drinking coffee and chatting outside. I’m the only one that surfs, and I’ve been away from home in Durban, South Africa for a few weeks. Medina does a magical backhand allez-oop. Which I replay a couple of times for anyone interested enough to see. One of the guys who lived a landlocked upbringing remarks;

‘’ What’s it like? Surfing I mean. I’ve never tried it.’’

‘’Terrible. It will ruin your life.’’ I quip back in jest.

I’m quite smug with my retort, but later, I’m thinking what secretly has been troubling me for a while. It’s bubbling up to the surface. It’s what many people faithfully committed to any sport or pastime may have considered at some point.

Is this thing that I do, this thing that I devote so much time to, that I make so many sacrifices for, forgoing work opportunities and relationships and quality time with people I care about. This thing that keeps me awake at night if feel I’m missing out, this thing that, at times makes me distant and angry and bitter and deeply jealous, is it really all that good for me?

Is surfing making me a miserable person?

When social media lights up about some swell that I missed because of work or family commitments I swear it puts me in such a foul mood sometimes I feel my heart turning black.

‘’It will ruin your life.’’ Never a truer word said in jest.

But man, surfing feels good. Particularly when you’re getting good waves and you’re surfing well. Boy does it feel good. On a biological level, whenever you get barrelled your body starts pumping out stuff called dopamine and serotonin, neurotransmitters, which light up a part of your brain called the hypothalamus which is responsible for pleasure. You feel happy and content. Feelings of well being. Mix in a dash of adrenalin you’ve got a fairly potent mix of chemicals that will have you paddling out for just one more.

Surfing isn’t the only way to get your fix of neurotransmitter goodness. Sex, booze or getting high on drugs will probably do the trick also. While sex is the most socially acceptable of these it’s hardly a coincidence that people struggle with addiction to all three of these.

The similarities with surfing don’t end there. The numerous comparisons to sex and surfing are as endless as they are cliché. But how about, ‘Hey, you score this morning bro?’  That moniker could be used at your local beachbreak or crackhouse interchangeably.

Yeah surfing is addictive, that’s not secret. And sure it’s good for you; no doubt it’s better to be addicted to surfing than to smoking crystal meth or to regular anonymous unprotected sex with prostitutes. Sometimes though, we all feel that cold turkey itch of withdrawal. Some just feel it more than others.

I’m not someone who suffers from an addictive personality. I quit smoking fairly easily. I’m not a big fan of gambling and I’ve never had a drug dealer on speed dial. But when I’m not able to surf I have noticed my alcohol consumption increases dramatically. Watching surfing on the internet sometimes makes me angry and even slightly depressed at times. I’m in bad mood more often. My relationships suffer. I am more anxious more of the time. Writing this I realize it kind of reads like an Alcoholics’ Anonymous check-list.

I’m sure most you who read this will roll your eyes at the dramatics, and that’s okay. But some of you I’m sure will identify with me. One of the founders of this website, (...yes I’m talking to you James) becomes an absolute nightmare if he’s deprived of water time.

Finding a balance between inter-personal commitments like work, family, friends and intra-personal pursuits like surfing is something I’ve always struggled with. I’m yet to marry or have kids, which will undoubtedly further complicate things. Lately however, I’m coming around to the fact that there is more to being happy than getting the best wave, of every session, of every swell. In a way I’m trying to mend a slightly dysfunctional relationship with the thing, rather than the person I love. People are easy. Things are harder.

Perhaps I can take solace in something Nat Young (that’s the Senior Australian version I might add) said in the 2008 woodshed film Shelter.

‘’Once you get to your older years, you’ve got to be able to see the bigger picture. The reason I can get on with all the kids is because ya know, if they’re in a good place and going for a wave I’m stoked cos’ I want them to go! And usually they go ‘Ah Nat! Go! Go! Cummon!’ They’re stoked when I get a good wave! I tell you one of the nice things about getting old is that I want less waves. It takes less waves to make me; quite satisfied.’’

Next year I’m hitting 30. Perhaps it’s time to start seeing the bigger picture.