My grandmother gave me a boogie board when I was 8, and she got me a pair of Churchill fins. She would take me to the ocean in Maryland and the Delaware shore. I would spend summers with her, and it was incredible. We'd spend all day at the beach. It felt like freedom.

When I moved to San Francisco, I did not get in the water for five years for fear of the chilly, cold, miserable environment, but I finally jumped in and I was like, “Wow! Why have I waited so long?” 

Surfing has gotten me through a lot of trials and tribulations. You can always paddle out, and there's just this immense feeling of calm and moment of like you're not connected to anything, you're not tethered. And I think that can feel really wonderful.

Being in the ocean brings me right back to being eight and being playful with my grandmother, and also being in the water with my father and him holding me up over the waves, and that feeling, that giddy feeling.

There was maybe a point in my 30s when I surfed Ocean Beach for a couple of years and I made it through the winter, which was a feat in and of itself. I got a little bit more serious because the waves were a little bit more serious in the winter. So I’m not saying I surfed the big waves on the big days, but I definitely even a small day here or a medium day is intense.

But then I kind of backed off. I was turning 38 at the time and I thought, I'm kind of aging out of this expectation of being able to conquer, in a sense of how far can you push your body and mind. When you feel that calculation being a little bit haywire, or it doesn't add up, or something is a little bit off, it's not the moment where you want to push too far.

As I’ve gotten older my quiver has expanded beyond just surfboards to include surf mats, hand planes, paipo boards, boogie boards, and even my daughter’s little whomper. It’s fascinating how many of the older generation of surfers remain so attached to traditional surfboards, finding pride and value only in continuing that one specific way of being in the water.

I've always been really comfortable with not knowing what I'm going to do next. I changed careers at 32. I was doing computer networking; I moved out to California to do that, and then I got laid off in 2000. And I became a photographer. I did that for 10 years, and then it started to feel boring. And then my then-spouse said, “You should maybe think about what you do want to do.” And I said, “I want to be a sculptor.” So I went back to school for sculpture at like, 43, and really studied it for a couple of years. It was super fun, and I got into the de Young Museum and I worked for the Arts Commission.”

And now I’m at a new juncture. I’m thinking about how few positions women take in talking about women's health and women's activity and sports. We have health changes and hormones in middle age that men don't actually really experience. So I’m thinking about starting a podcast about that. 

My ex-wife would always say, “You don't have a fear of leaving a job and starting a new career because you know that there's going to be something there, a safety.” And I think that safety for me has always been my self reliance. But I can't say self-reliance always comes from a place of healthiness, you know. When you grow up in a certain environment, your ability to rely on yourself becomes your survival. It doesn't always come from a place of security.  

I'm working with a good therapist. I feel real kinship with this woman. And so I kind of trust in the process, and a lot of times she’ll ask me to sit with really being uncomfortable. I'm like, this is really difficult. And she says that’s because you're used to doing, always going and achieving and, you know, taking the bull by the horns and saying, “‘I've got this.’ Just slow down; let the wave wash over you.” Was it Winnie the Pooh with Eeyore? One of them fell in the water and went down the stream, and one of them fought it and hit the rocks every time they went through. And the other one was laughing and eating food and just floated around all the rocks. 

I know something will be there when I need it. The breath of air will be there when I need it.