
Ana said it as she watched the dawn melt into soft gold over Santa Teresa, Costa Rica. Beside her, Lisa, her best friend of three decades, with a cold michelada on her hand, toes buried in the cool sand, surfboards stacked nearby like quiet invitations. The ocean murmured. Birds skimmed. Somewhere behind them, laughter drifted from the open-air yoga shala.
Work. Grown kids. Aging parents. A house that always needed something. But when a link appeared in a group chat—a women’s surf and yoga retreat in Santa Teresa—they felt that spark. Not a crisis. A calling. A whisper that said, it’s time to remember yourself.
So here they were: two amigas in their 50s, zipped into rashguards, cheeks bright with salt and sun, ready to try something deliciously new.
Midlife has a way of reshaping the questions we ask. It can arrive with career peaks, caregiving, empty nests, and the quiet ache of routine. Many women describe it as a layer of responsibility that never quite lifts. For Ana, this showed up as a calendar that kept winning. For Lisa, it was a nagging feeling of when did I stop doing things just for me?

They didn’t want a “pause.” They wanted a reset—a week to be led by curiosity instead of schedules. A week where “Should I?” became “Why not?” A week to play again.
What drew them to Pura Vida Adventures wasn’t just the promise of warm waves and yoga flows. It was everything around it:
“Midlife is the moment I stopped waiting for permission,” Ana wrote in her journal during the first evening circle. “This trip is my reminder that I’m still allowed to want new things.”
The first thing they noticed was the air—salty, warm, alive. Santa Teresa feels like a secret someone tells you at exactly the right time. The road runs parallel to the ocean, and the jungle leans in close. When Ana and Lisa arrived at Pura Vida Adventures’ beachfront hotel, the welcome felt like a family reunion: big smiles, fresh juice, the sound of the waves threading through every conversation.
They walked the path to the open-air yoga shala, where bamboo shadows danced on the floor. On a table: tropical fruit, homemade granola, banana bread that tasted like sunshine. A coach pointed toward the surf—gentle beach breaks rolling in with soft shoulders. “Perfect for beginners,” she said. “You’re going to surprise yourselves.”
Later, at dinner under strings of lights, they met women from all over—some solo, some in pairs, some mother-daughter duos. Everyone had a story; everyone carried a reason for being there. The laughter was easy. The sense of comunidad instant.
By the time the stars settled in, Ana felt it: I can exhale here.
The morning began with surf coaching on the sand—stance, balance, breath. Pura Vida Adventures’ female instructors split the group into small pods so everyone could get attention, adjustments, and that magical “You’ve got this” energy. In the water, the coaches scanned the set, chose the right wave, and gave a gentle push. “Look up,” one called to Lisa. “Breathe.” And then it happened: the board lifted, the water carried her, and she was standing—wobbly, delighted, electric.
“I hadn’t felt that kind of freedom in years,” Lisa said, tears mingling with saltwater. “I forgot how much I love being a beginner.”
Surf sessions melted into yoga that meets you where you are—slow, thoughtful, tuned to midlife bodies that have earned their wisdom. In the afternoon, the group shared a long table lunch: grilled fish with mango salsa, crispy plantains, salads bursting with herbs, and a mousse made from local cacao. Vegetarian and gluten-free options showed up like a love language.

“Food made me feel cared for,” Ana said. “No guilt, no shoulds—just nourishment that tasted like vacation.”
Back at the beach, two women cheered as a new friend popped up for the first time. High-fives. Shouts. A string of whoops dancing up the shoreline. It’s hard to explain how quickly community forms here. Maybe it’s the ocean. Maybe it’s the relief of being seen.
Every step of the program reinforces safety-first. Coaches choose breaks for the day’s conditions, match boards to body and skill, and keep the ratio low so the coaching stays personal. When the sets got punchier, they shifted the plan—more land drills, more reading the lineup, more laughing at wipeouts that end in smiles.
“I realized I’d spent years avoiding being new at anything,” Ana confessed over tea. “Now I understand—trying is a kind of joy.”
In the shala, the afternoon breeze carried the scent of ocean and hibiscus. The yoga teacher invited the group to notice what they were carrying—and to set it down, just for the hour. Hips softened, breath blossomed. After class, some women journaled on the deck; others walked the tidepools, tracing shells and the geometry of sand.

“Midlife taught me resilience,” Lisa wrote. “This week is teaching me receptivity.”
You don’t have to be a poet to recognize the metaphor: paddle through the whitewater, choose the wave that’s yours, stand when you’re ready. Surfing isn’t conquest; it’s conversation. The ocean says, I’ll meet you halfway. And Pura Vida Adventures has spent more than twenty one years helping women answer back.
On the fifth morning, the girls from Day One felt different. Softer and stronger, somehow. They could read the swell lines. They knew when to let a wave pass. They celebrated every ride—the long ones and the short ones—with the same bright joy.
The final dinner isn’t a goodbye. It’s a beginning. Someone always says it: “I’m taking this home with me.” They clink glasses to friendship, to bravery, to beginner’s mind at any age. The staff passes the most delicious chocolate cake—local, mostly organic ingredients and house-made treats—and the conversation drifts to real life: flights, kids, partners, jobs, the morning surf. Always the morning surf.
When Ana and Lisa packed up their boards and tucked sandy flip-flops into their bags, they brought home more than souvenirs.
They brought home strength—the kind that hums in your legs and in your voice.
They brought home calm—a breath that finds you in the carpool line or the boardroom.
They brought home community—numbers exchanged, group chats started, future trips plotted.
And they brought home a truth that midlife makes even sweeter: you’re allowed to begin again.
For many women, a Costa Rica surf and yoga retreat isn’t just a vacation. It’s a reclamation. A women’s surf retreat where laughter is a practice, meals are medicine, and the ocean is a mirror that reflects you back to yourself—brave, playful, alive.
If your heart has been whispering “yes,” consider this your sign. You don’t have to know everything. You don’t need to be “ready.” Here in Santa Teresa, Costa Rica, you’ll be welcomed exactly as you are: beginner, returning surfer, solo traveler, best friends in your 50s who promised to be brave together.

Come live the pura vida with us. Arrive solo—or with your favorite amiga. Leave with sisters.
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