Dumb luck brought on the move from business to acting. I had moved to New York when I was 23, in the year 2000. On a lark, I went to audition for a soap opera.

I wish it had been something as sexy as the old Joey Tribbiani, falling-down-an-elevator shaft. But no. It just faded out. I wasn't related to anybody or anybody's lost, amnesiac lovechild in One Life to Live. They just didn't have room for me, so it was a slow fade. I remember feeling the writing on the wall: "This is not going to end well for me."

I love improving, I love being creative and I love being my own boss.

I came out to Los Angeles for a couple of meetings in the summer of 2005, and I ended up getting a movie called Firehouse Dog for Fox. And I thought, "Oh, man. I'm doing a movie. Maybe I'll work a lot more now. I'm an actor now." Then, for eight, nine months I didn't work after that. After that movie, I began to get some guest star roles, fairly consistently, but because I had been so presumptuous before in thinking that the other jobs would lead to something, I realized: "Just get up. Go to work. Go home. This is your job just like everyone else's job."

I was a swimmer growing up, which meant being in the pool at 5 a.m. You get used to it. You get up at 4:15 a.m.; my parents, who were amazing, they were up at 4:15 a.m. or earlier to drop me off at the pool and then go to work. I eventually stopped doing that, but the pattern remained. I like getting up really early. It feels like my time of day.

I prize being just a normal dude that wakes up, goes to work, comes home to his wife - like, quite boring.

I'm a really big surfer, and I have also been playing a ton of volleyball on the beach on the weekends.