Yeah, that’s me.
Behind my son’s paddle.
It was my glorious attempt to get a shot commemorating this #50before50 moment where we paddle-boarded together on a weekend trip to Lake Chautauqua, New York.
Never mind that you can’t see me.
This trip was a BLESSING. The last leg of our 2018 summer festivities, which, frankly, were quite legless due to work and school commitments for my double graduate degree chasing spouse.
We fought to get away for this weekend. And we won.
Why not paddle-board with my daughter?
She was happily content skipping rocks at the water’s edge. Just her. Smooth rocks. Her thoughts. And ducks. Lots of ducks.
Zane and I, however, ventured out onto the lake.
And that’s when I was first reminded that I hadn’t paddle-boarded in about 6 years. I’d forgotten everything. How to steer. How deep my paddle should be. How to back up. How to stand. As my board drifted out into deeper water, I was panicking. I couldn’t seem to control the beast. My shouts for help were cloaked in humor. But I was not finding my situation funny.
I was freaked out.
We returned to shore where I received some instruction from our hosts.
My paddle, which I thought I was holding correctly, had been upside down THE ENTIRE TIME. Combine that with paddling too deeply and this would-be hobby for purposes of serenity turned into my own personal Poseiden Aventure.
I decided to give things another try in the morning. I woke to this:
What could be more perfect?
Alone on my board, I stayed close to shore until I was sure I had the technique down. Just those few pieces of instruction helped erase the panicked memories of my first time out on the water, replacing them with deep breaths and a blissful quiet I’d not experienced in quite some time.
Paddle-boarding with my son, while a brief adventure due to inexperience, did indeed happen. The result of which was my getting BACK on the board after freaking out the first time.
Ah, there’s a lesson in there.