Remember that one time where I actually chose to try snowboarding?
It was rough and it was tough. And sadly, I haven't strapped into a board since that fateful Winter.
Since then, no matter what Aaron tried to say to coax me into trying it, I just couldn't bare another bruise/muscle-ache-fest. Oh the bruises, the amount of ibuprofen consumed, the anger as I tumbled down the hill. Oh the horror and inhumanity!
So imagine my surprise when I agreed (yes, begrudgingly at first) to try wake boarding this Summer.
I managed to escape the first planned trip because of shark week (my loving term for "that time of the month"), but this time I ran out of excuses and time.
Everyone and everything said "JUST DO IT!" So I said "fine."
(what can I say? I'm obedient, if nothing else.)
(what can I say? I'm obedient, if nothing else.)
So the first step was to find a bathing suit and board shorts I would want to wear in public. I HATE bathing suits and as a result, was hoping for something like this:
Women in bathing suits on Collaroy Beach, 1908 via |
But I ended up in something quite different (but still maybe with the same coverage): Board shorts to my knees and a tank top to cover my demure one piece suit.
Something more like this:
I kid you not...my outfit was pretty much like this |
Talk about sexy, yo.
(sorry , no real pictures were taken of me this fine day...too bad...)
But I digress. Soon enough, it was go-time and so I hopped in the boat. I watched several people take their runs and tried to analyze their approach to getting up. It looked easy enough. I was even educated on the art of standing up, what I should feel when in the water and what moves I should make. This is all I can remember:
- Lay back in the water with my knees bent and keep my arms held out straight in front of me.
- As soon as I felt pressure from the water, "stand up" in the water and turn the board
- Voila! Stand up!
Here's what happened:
I went to get in the life vest and it was found that it was too small. ALL of them were too small. Nice. Real nice. Apparently there was nothing on the boat to contain the girls and I. So I had to wait. Yes I was embarrassed. No, I wasn't disappointed that I barely escaped my impending doom. Should I have been?
But no one would give up that easy. Soon enough, another bigger (much bigger, even on me) life vest was wrangled up and it was officially my turn.
(yay)
So I strapped in so someones board with bindings that were way to big. I plunged into the water and floated to the top. All the while, I had at least 4 different people yelling pointers out to me.
I secretly felt confident that I would nail this maneuver in one move but also didn't believe it at the same time.
I yelled "go" and the boat moved ahead. Despite my warm, fuzzy and positive feelings, I failed.
Big time.
Instead, I was jerked this way or that and most of the time, I plunged into the water head first, sometimes even backwards. My sinuses (and every other cavity in/on my body for that matter) were washed clean, made new, if you will with every cleansing dip as I fell, slipped or was yanked into the dirty lake water.
A super cute lil' guy on the boat yelled at me as I gasped and floated on the side of the boat " You just really need to hold on harder!" I laughed to myself and thought, "this is supposed to be fun?"
But there was something different. Even though I failed time and time again, I still kind of enjoyed it (not so much the choking and gasping on the rushing waters going down my nose and throat) and wanted to keep trying it.
Sadly, my body and my weak T-Rex arms did not agree and I could handle no more. That night I felt muscles I've never felt become sore. But, I slept well knowing I tried. The next day I decided to try again.
The second time was a little better. I didn't swallow as much nasty water and I almost, ALMOST got up. But my abs, then my arms could handle no more and soon enough I couldn't even make a fist.
The handle got yanked out of my weak hands and I quit. I was weak man, weak.
Sadly, it's a bit too chilly for me to get out into the water to try again, but I really want to try and try again until I get my "AHA" moment and stand up on the water.
It won't be anything close to what Jesus did, but no doubt that moment will still go down in history
(I really hope you know I'm joking on that last part...)
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