Trying New Things

On our last visit to see my sister, which was in early May, she tried desperately to get me to paddleboard. For those of you unfamiliar, paddleboarding is where you take a large surfboard-type apparatus, stand on it (or kneel if you're a beginner), and navigate around relatively calm water by using a long paddle.

I had no interest in it.

Despite my sister insisting I try it, "I think you'll really like it!" I was not excited at all. I don't have much interest in sports that involve the ocean. I'm not afraid of sharks getting me (perhaps I should be) simply because the chances are fairly slim. I've had a number of experiences where I just couldn't get air to breathe while being pounded by surf.

I ended up taking swimming lessons again as an adult to try and give myself more confidence--which I do have now. Regardless, the ocean and I have a mutual understanding and agreement. It is bigger and stronger than me and doesn't give a rip about my well-being. I am smaller, weaker, and would rather sit on the beach with a book. So far, the arrangement has worked out just fine for me.

My sister, who has loved the water since birth, loves every water sport she's come in contact with. Since she has so much fun with water sports, she's always trying to get everyone else to try whatever she's doing so they can have fun too.

She and I have different ideas of "fun."

Anyhow, on our last trip, there was a severe bacteria warning at the place we were going to paddleboard and I opted not to participate on the grounds that I didn't want to be in bacteria-ridden water.

I never thought I'd be grateful for pollution.

On this trip, I figured I might as well try it, so when we finally got one paddleboard, one paddle, one umbrella, one beach blanket, 37 towels, 3 adults, 3 kids, and 2 cars loaded and ready to go, it was about 1:00pm.

The water was rather choppy, but I decided to go out anyway. I had seen my brother-in-law do it once before (he went out in the bacteria fest), so I knew what it looked like. My sister wanted him to give me a "lesson" and he wanted my sister to give me the lesson.

Since they couldn't agree, I finally said, "So it sounds like I should just head out, and good luck with that?"

Pretty much.

Except they did recommend I leave my sunglasses with them on the beach.

Thanks for the vote of confidence.

I opted to take the sunglasses anyway (it was pretty bright, especially out on the water), telling them they only cost $10 and I left my good ones in the car for that reason.

My sister did give me some tips and made me do a couple of positioning change practices on the sand. I hauled the board into the water.

I probably didn't dress the best--I did have a swimsuit on, but this is LA, and so I opted to keep my shorts and T-shirt on anyway because I was self-conscious.

I didn't realize how wet I would end up getting.

Even before I ever got on the board.

I finally got up and paddled around on my knees for a bit. I quickly figured out that if a "wave" (I use the term generously, but it makes me sound like less of a goober than if I say a "ripple") hit me sideways, I was going for a swim.

For me, paddleboarding ended up being a lot more about paddling near a board, trying to get back onto the board.

I was doing sort of okay, at least for a first-timer, but my knees were getting achy, so I decided it was time to try and stand. I got partway up! Partway being "up" just enough that my brother-in-law got a great picture of me with my butt sticking out right before the shot of me heading into the water.

It was weird. I didn't feel like I was that off-balance, but my legs weren't working. I don't know if it was because I was kneeling too much, I'm generally weak, or because of my back (or some combination), but it was like I couldn't control them.

I wriggled back onto the board, got up into the kneeling position, and started to try again. This time I didn't manage to get up at all and promptly went down.

I went completely underwater. Good news: I didn't panic.

Bad news: I couldn't kick my legs at all.

It took two or three tries before they would function. I finally hauled myself back on the board and got onto my knees again. It hurt so badly I gave up and just sat on the board in a straddled position and slowly began paddling back in.

It was a lot more work than I'd expected.

It was also a lot more fun than I'd expected.

My sister was very proud of me and commented that she thought my husband would be very proud of me too. She said she was glad I even tried it. I admitted to her that mostly I tried because it was easier than arguing with her.

When we got back to her place, she showed me the pictures. I heard her from the other room saying, "Oh, that's a good picture! There's another one! Come see these!"

Still in my body-image denial land, I walked in to see the pictures on her computer expecting to see a trim athletic figure in the shots.

Why I expect this, I still don't understand.

Especially since the "great" shots she had on the screen looked less like my mental image of an athlete out playing in the water and more like a hippopotamus trying to balance on a skateboard.

She offered to let me go back out again tomorrow. I haven't given her an answer yet.