Back to the Bay

The trip back to San Francisco was a difficult one. The culmination of a red-eye flight, ridiculously heavy baggage, and 6-hours of mask-wearing precautions drained me more than the usual hop across the Pacific. Upon my arrival I immediately logged on to work and have since spent the past two days moving into a new apartment. While none of this was unexpected, the physical and mental toll was far more than I had given it credit for. Even the idea of grocery shopping feels daunting (I promise I’ll get to it eventually). 

This morning, laying in bed after a run to the apartment and between a few meetings, I logged onto Surfline to check the waves at Ocean Beach in hopes of something to raise my weakened spirits. The beach was fogged in, making the live-feed on my computer nothing more than a white square. The forecast is set to be onshore for a while, which is fine, I guess, due to the lack of projected surf as well anyway. 

To quote my favorite surf blog (besides my own), Inherent Bummer, “it’s not the end of the world.” But in that moment, laying in bed in my sweatpants with tired, bloodshot eyes, it kind of felt like it was. In only two days, I’m already realizing how spoiled I was and how reliant on the ocean I had become. 

On O‘ahu, I was in the ocean daily. Diving, surfing, swimming, paddle boarding, body surfing. Always something. It quickly became a habit and unknowingly became an antidote for outside stress.

I don’t have the same privilege of daily ocean access up here in SF. This is an unsettling reality that I’m coping with. And while I’ve lived in the bay area for the majority of the past six years, I’ve never spent so long in Hawai‘i that my reality has become so tainted. 

With all this being said, I’ve lived this transition before and I’ll live it again. This mid-summer surf funk won’t last forever and Fall at Ocean Beach is just around the corner. 

Soon the chilly offshore wind will be grooming the solid surf that follows in Summer’s wake. I’ll be moved into my new apartment (with a garage where I can store my boards (yew!)), I’ll no longer be jet-lagged, and I’ll have my mainland routine on lock. The stress that hugs me right now will be short lived and the knowledge that Fall surf is coming is enough to get me through just about anything.

Cold water beach break barrels… Big Santa Cruz surf… Davenport strike missions… It’s all coming! But for now, back to work.