Time changes you, yet it never really changes. Photo: Anthony Ghiglia
In 1990, I was five. That’s when I had my first memory. It was December, and my pre-school teacher, Mrs. Crandle, pointed at a wall calendar in our classroom in Portsmouth, Virginia and told us the day’s date.
“Today is December 13, 1990. It’s snowing, because the temperature is below freezing. And every single snowflake is different, kids. Just like you.”
My brain exploded. I had just learned more transcendent concepts in thirty seconds than I might learn for the rest of my life: We have a system for measuring time. And, snow! Snowflakes?! How is every snowflake different? A lifetime of equally unfathomable revelations awaited. As they do. It’s funny how everything and nothing makes sense all at once. Time especially. It’s the most ethereal and relative of concepts. Time changes you, yet it never really changes. It marches onward unapologetically. Ostensibly consistent, yet entirely sporadic. So we do our best to make the most of it while we have it. Sometimes in drunken celebration. Sometimes in earnest perseverance. Sometimes in pain. In love. We wear many faces in our time.
Today, we celebrate five years of The Inertia. In Spring of 2010, we were an idea born of a naive optimism. A conversation spawned from what I perceived to be a great opportunity to marry my passion for surfing, media, and communication. Then we were a doodle. Then a mockup. Then an email. Then a prototype. Then a website. Then a living, breathing community of nearly 2,000 talented contributors – writers, photographers, artists, filmers, and athletes – from all over the planet with a myriad of diverse, refreshing perspectives. Then a daily destination for 1.5 MILLION readers monthly (and growing). Then, for a few, a job with a funky little office and some responsibilities. A little family that negotiates the exciting, yet deeply personal challenges of business as best it can. Today, we actually released a limited edition book.
What happened? Where has the time gone?
I wake up in the middle of the night at least once a week – usually around 3:30 AM – and ask myself, “What the hell am I – are we – doing?” I think I know the answer to that question about as well as anyone else does. Which is to say that I don’t. And although today’s tasks look very different from those on our birthday, September 13, 2010, I’m still very much in love with what we’re doing, because it’s clear to me that we are a global community and we care deeply about embracing evolution. In 2015, we are an accurate, inclusive composite of surfing (and now outdoor sports), and the process of identifying the best work that we’ve published over the last five years has been a beautifully painstaking task. It’s been a generous reminder of how special this community is.
To commemorate this occasion we decided to make something a little more tangible. Something you can hold. A book. Each essay featured in this book courageously speaks its truth. Each author is proudly vulnerable. Consequently, the connections here – through stunning photography and personal essays – connect far beyond surfing. The Inertia has always been about people first. Stories about people who surf, and not the opposite. Because every single person is fascinatingly unique; I learned this in kindergarten. And time? It’s like the ocean.
We’ll spend our days trying to figure it out. – Zach
And as always, thank you for making this community so special.
Check out a preview of our Limited Edition 5-Year Anniversary book below, and click the Paypal button below if you’d like to purchase a copy at a serious discount shipped directly from our hands with a little note thanking you for your support.
Otherwise, it’s available at full price here. There’s some good stuff in there. We hope you enjoy.
And in case you were interested, I thought you might like to see a visual history of the site’s iterations. It gives me joy to look back at our baby’s growth. Quick, hop in our time machine!
April 2010. My first stab at this vision. I suck at Photoshop.
May 2010. First crack by a designer. Matt Bauer put this together. As well as our current logo.
April 2014. Something that resembles what you see today.