It seemed like a good time to learn something new, so I bought a paddle board. So far, I've been out on it three times. Trip #1 went like this: Slink down to the lake. Crap! Lots of onlookers, even at 7 pm. Also, a stiff breeze. I reluctantly inflated my board, because I was there, so had to try. Standing up seemed impossible, especially with an audience. I stayed on my knees, stroking pretty far out. This was fun. I spied someone else standing up. It looked and felt impossible. Coming back to shore, I tried to stand. That was a big nope. I slunk away in defeat, tempted to chuck the whole thing. But I had spent money on the board, so I had to use it.
|The view is nice--when I'm not too scared to look past my feet.|
Standing up at first is the hardest part, but after a bit I was able to stop wobbling and perform some semblance of a stroke. I was doing it! Happily, I circumnavigated the lake twice, scaring geese as I went. I knew a wave or a boat wake would be my undoing, but fortunately neither appeared.
|Here goes nothing....|
Not today, though. People who apparently have never heard of a pandemic crowded its shores, cars lined up farther than I've ever seen them. It was party central. I'll have to get up early and go down when there are just fishermen. Fishermen don't care. "You should drag a fishing line with your board," Todd says. Um...Nope! I'm not that good yet.
I don't know how people ever do yoga on paddle boards, or use them on rivers. (I've tried on a river once, and was able to stand up, but not going through riffles. No, just no.) But despite moments of terror, the paddle boarding is going well. I think.