turning thirty

Turning thirty might be the ultimate challenge in ignoring society. On the one hand, you don't want to buy into the notion of getting old and not meeting certain milestones by being married with three babies by this time. On the other hand, you don't want to feel bad about not having a dirty thirty showing off how hot and young you still are. Like any girl (meaning someone who, on not an extreme but still tangible level, appreciates belonging and certain quintessential life experiences as defined by television and movies), it took some rationalizing to be comfortable with these things. To help settle comfortably into the new skin of thirty, I wanted to have a special day on my birthday, and thanks to M as well as to an amazing co-resident who helped cover me on the wards, I had the most perfect day.

We started by biking from the Ferry Building and Bay Bridge, along the Embarcadero, thorugh the Presidio and Crissy Field, over the Golden Gate Bridge to Sausalito. The day started out classicly San Francisco: gray and foggy, and we stopped in the Presidio to capture the iconic image of our city. As we started to bike over the bridge, the skies cleared and made the waters more blue, and soft sun brightened our path. This trek was somewhat stressful for me, since I'm still not great at navigating on a bike--I fell off after trying to stop at the top of a hill, made another biker stop because I didn't veer to the side quickly enough, and still have trouble getting back on after stopping at a crosswalk. But it was a good balance of effort and ease, and I felt grateful for thighs that could get me up steep hills and for desensitizing to fast steep down hills, and I felt good about doing something that scared me on a day that kind of scared me. I also love doing things as weather changes. I loved this about Kilimanjaro, that we progressed from tropical humidity on the first day to freezing snow on the last. I loved this about the skies in Arizona, where one half was shrouded in thick gray and other half was bright sun, and watching as one stretched into the other. It gives this heavy sense of story, and I'm so thankful for being able to feel so much narrative in the space of hours, a day, a mountain.

As we biked into Sausalito, water opening up by the road stopped my breath. It's such a good feeling to see water ahead and beside you all of the sudden, and it was a beautiful clear blue water rimmed by hills formed from trees and homes. We got sandwiches from a local deli and ate on a bench outside; I had avocado and brie on Dutch Crunch, and we shared a stuffed egg that is like a more full deviled egg. We talked about the quiet peace of Sausalito, finished our lunch, and got back onto the bikes to make our way to sea kayaking.

We had talked about trying out stand up paddle boarding, but it was extremely windy and the people renting boards didn't recommend trying it in the open water. So we rented two single kayaks, and in the theme of clumsy direction I ran myself into a big boat before I got used to steering, again something I took to be positive on this day--continuing things that feel unwieldy at first. I love kayaking because of how close you are to the water, how light it feels, and how the view changes so much from the surface of the water. We saw dozens of seals lazying about, house boats, and absorbed the beauty of the hills above us. On the way back, we kayaked against wind and at one point it was so strong that I was paddling like mad just to stay still. I was proud of staying the course, and felt the energy from all the nature circulating in my limbs.

We then tried stand up paddle boarding for a little bit, just in the small cove before the water opened up. I asked them several times whether we should wear something protective in case we fell, and they kept assuring us that it was very uncommon to fall. To me it seemed so likely--we were standing on water, after all. But I guess having a board in between makes a huge difference, because they were right and I felt very stable standing up, which was a very cool feeling. Of course the wind and current promptly carried me into a corner where I got stuck for several minutes before I was able to maneuver my way out. This was pretty embarrassing, but given the goal to increase self-comfort, it presented a good challenge.

We recovered from the day's activities with a luxurious dinner at Sushi Ran. The black cod was probably one of the top ten most delicious things I've ever eaten. The texture was incredibly smooth and buttery, and the seasoning was savory in that way that magnifies with the seconds the taste rests on your tongue, and then lingers as it leaves. We celebrated with hot and cold sake, and especially then I appreciated how pure and natural sake tastes compared to other alcohol. By the time we were biking to the ferry to go home, I was more than full with the senses of the day. We had some time to wait for the ferry, and as we sat watching the waves I felt the layers of the day settle by their weight, like sediment. The lightness of kayaking and biking floating on top, the weight of the physical activity and battling wind and hills grounding the bottom; the lightness of a relaxing meal laced with umami and alcohol wafting at the top, the weight of the food in my stomach and diffusing its way through my body anchoring the bottom.

I tried to let this all sink and lay where it might as we traveled on the ferry back to San Francisco, with the softening sun creating an awesome sky over the water, behind us as we rode forward to the port and skyline. It was honestly so gorgeous that I couldn't believe this is where we live and that this wasn't a faraway trip part of a vacation but just a day off, just a birthday in my home. I felt so incredibly grateful.

We completed the day by soaking our muscles in the hot tub at my brother's apartment complex, which is something we do often on other days but felt especially like a treat on this day where I faced new adventures. Thinking back, it really was a perfect day that combined so much of what I love in my life: nature, food, movement, new things, and experiencing it with M. In this one day I found my sought-after comfort with this upcoming year--a sense that when so much has already been given, everything else is just more.