...Just a Surfer

Even the most unspectacular surfers lead extraordinary lives. Here is the journal of one.

Thursday, December 02, 2004

The ___ beneath my feet

The US Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) estimates that in the US, people spend up to 90% of their time indoors. As a public heath measure, the agency encourages awareness of Indoor Air Quality (IAQ) issues. Publications available on the EPA website list the heath effects and exposure risks of asbestos, biological pollutants, carbon monoxide, formaldehyde, pressed wood products, cleaning products, lead, mercury, nitrogen dioxide, pesticides, radon, airborne particulates, environmental tobacco smoke (ETS) and combustion sources such as gas, kerosene, coal, or wood.

In any indoor environment, residential or commercial, adequate ventilation is required for good indoor air quality. Building codes for commercial buildings require that occupied spaces are ventilated with air from outdoors. In most commercial buildings, this is accomplished by continuously ventilating outdoor air through the heating or cooling duct system. In residential homes, forced ventilation is not required by building codes. It is assumed that the sporadic opening of windows and doors will provide ventilation with outdoor air.

The statistic that people in the US spent 90% of their time indoors shocked me. Did I really spend so much time inside of buildings?

I considered my average day without surfing. I usually woke up at 6, got ready for work, walked outdoors to my car, drove to work, walked from my car to my office, worked, walked back to my car, drove home, walked into my home, sat around the house for a couple of hours, and want to sleep. In total, I spent 10 minutes of my day walking from buildings to cars and vice versa, an hour and a half driving, and the rest of the time indoors.

When my daughter learned to walk, I started a routine of walking with her to get our mail. We lived in a residential complex. Each structure contained five dwelling units. If the tenant of the dwelling unit paid rent, they lived in an apartment. If the tenant paid mortgage, they lived in a townhouse. We lived in a townhouse. In either case, our mailbox was not a mailbox on a post with a flag on the side. Our mailbox was a four inch by four inch locked cubby in an aluminum bank of 24 cubbies located one hundred yards from our townhouse. The walk took my daughter between five and ten minutes.

In my consideration of an average day, I added ten minutes of outdoor time for walking to the mailbox and calculated the results. The results were depressing. Based on a 24 hour day, I spent 93% of my time indoors and 7% of my time outdoors.

However, 6% of that was time in an automobile. I debated whether time in an automobile could be considered time spent outdoors. Sure, one can see the outdoors more plainly. One could open the window and feel the outdoor air. Ultimately I judged that if I couldn't kick my feet and jump, I was still constrained by boundaries, and was not outdoors. I adjusted the numbers. They now read: 93%, 6% and 1%. I spent 93% of my time in buildings, 6% of my time in cars, and 1% of my time outdoors.

Was this healthy? I didn't know. But, even if there were no health concerns, it wasn't what I wanted. Living life going from building to car to building to car, with only concrete and carpet under shoed feet wasn't my idea of a balanced existence.

Trying to make the figures appear more encouraging, I decided that it was unfair to count sleeping hours. After all, whether I spent my sleeping hours indoors or outdoors was irrelevant. I subtracted sleeping hours and re-calculated. The results looked better. I spent only 91% of my time indoors. Of course, I now spent 8% of my waking hours in a car, and the fraction of time spent outdoors was still 1%.

Housing is ridiculously expensive where I live, compared to many other areas of the US. My wife asked me years ago why we couldn't move to a more reasonable market. I scoffed. I refused to leave Southern California. How could we? The annual climate here is the envy of the world. In the winter, overnight low temperatures rarely drop far below 40 degrees, often warming to over 60 in the day. During summer, heat waves can bring peak temperatures above 100 degrees on a mere handful of days per year. For the majority of days between the reasonable extremes, outdoor conditions are mild and enjoyable.

Of course, to enjoy them, one has to be outside.

I added an hour of surfing into my morning. The percentage numbers improved. Including surfing, I would spend 82% of my waking moments in buildings, 9% in cars, and 9% outdoors. I could get close to spending 10% of my days time outdoors. Surely, this was an improvement.

It was an improvement. Surfing every morning is more than escaping the limitations of man made buildings. Surfing is play. The playground of the surfer is completely divorced from daily existence in a way no other playground can be. Entering the ocean is an escape from the very dry land we live on. In this playground, there is no ground beneath our feet. Standing, walking, running, jumping - words which have understood meanings on land - must be redefined or abandoned completely. The ocean is a swimming pool that is infinite in three directions.

It could be argued that surfers are the slice of the demographic pie chart that most appreciates the ocean in costal communities. Many residents and visitors enjoy the view of the water. Walkers, bicyclists, joggers, and skaters commute within sight of the shoreline. Boaters, sailors, and fisherman utilize the ocean for recreation. But, surfers are physically immersed in the ocean. A sailor spends time above the liquid world. A surfer spends time in the liquid world.

"Why do you go every day?" a co-worker asked me.

I considered the question. I knew that I would spend a vast majority of the next twenty four hours in man made environments – buildings, houses, and cars. The brief moments that I would spend outdoors would be on concrete, asphalt, brick, or ceramic tile. It seemed like an hour in the water would be a welcome counterpoint to any day. The water would be warm. The air would be clear.

"Gosh.” I replied. “I can't see any reason why I wouldn't."

More Later

copyright 2004 Travis R. English

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home