This past Wednesday, I went paddle boarding for the very first time. It was the last day my daughter, Gabi, was here. And she wanted to go. I’ve gotten braver at driving in the mountains, so up we went to Horsetooth Reservoir and rented 2 paddle boards. I don’t have any photos–we left everything in the car except for the keys, which we left with the guys at the board rental place. But here is a photo of the reservoir:
Gabi stood up gracefully on the paddle board. I tried to stand, but my legs shook so much that I got back on my knees. A lot of people sat or kneeled. But Gabi said the hardest part was straightening her legs, so I tried again.
And next thing I knew, I was underwater. I somehow held onto my paddle, but the paddle board wandered away. Luckily, my glasses didn’t fall off! When I caught up with my board, I draped myself over it and rested for a couple minutes before I tried to pull myself back on. It wasn’t easy! But I finally did it. I sat on the board for the rest of the time. But I thoroughly enjoyed myself
Falling off may have been the best part–and here’s why
I don’t like to make waves–literally or figuratively. I have no clue if anyone besides Gabi noticed my big waves. But that was my first thought after I hit the water–how embarrassing. Still, there was nowhere to go but up!
And I surprised myself by bursting out laughing as soon as my head got back into the fresh morning air. That caught me as much by surprise as falling did. But it was a happy surprise.
This morning, this article from Medium popped up in my news feed: The Hardest Stoic Spiritual Exercise and Why It’s Crucial for Happiness.
It’s about vulnerability and the courage it takes to be vulnerable–and how hard it is. I didn’t think about all of that when I fell into the water. But I did think that I faced something I feared–both trying something new and falling flat on my face, more or less. And I could laugh at it–at myself.
I enjoyed the rest of the time on the water–I used to do a lot of canoeing and I love being on or in the water. The weather was lovely, and I felt a lot cooler after I got soaked. And I spent the time with my wonderful daughter. I’ll definitely go paddle boarding again–and I’ll probably try to stand up. Or I may just stick to canoeing or kayaking. But at any rate, I’m really glad I went.
My first-time paddle boarding–a monotetra
Molly Hogan, at Nix the Comfort Zone, hosts Poetry Friday this week. She wrote a poem about her new area code using a form I hadn’t heard of before (I often learn new things from other Poetry Friday writers). She describes it this way: “This form, created by Michael Walker, was totally new to me. It’s composed of any number of quatrains (4-lined stanzas) with 8 syllables per line. Each line in a stanza has the same ending rhyme (mono-rhyme) and the final line of each stanza repeats the same four syllables.”
Update: I missed the deadline to join the linky list, so this week’s host is now Ramona from Pleasures from the Page–thanks Ramona!
So I decided to give it a try. And here it is:
Sunny Colorado morning,
floating free, I have no mooring,
lovely mountain views affording–
paddle boarding, paddle boarding.
I try to stand on shaking shanks,
beneath me just a narrow plank.
For a moment it all goes blank
I’m gonna tank, I’m gonna tank.
I land with a tremendous plash
soaking wet from toes to lash
Holding onto oar, up I thrash
with splish and splash, with splish and splash.
Climbing back on is quite grueling
Am I dripping or just drooling?
I can’t stop laughing–no fooling!
My joy refueling. My joy refueling.
That’s all for today
I’m getting used to life without Gabi. My sweet daughter stayed here for a whole month! What a wonderful gift.
I wish you gifts and adventures–and laughter!
Thanks for stopping by.
xoxo
What a delight to read about your first paddleboarding adventure. It takes me back to my college days and adventures on a river in a canoe. I spent more time out of my canoe than I did in it! I love that your first response was laughter. How joyful to spend this time on the water with your daughter. And your montetra is amazing! Kudos for trying out this challenging form, Susan!
Thanks, Ramona. It was all a grand adventure- including the writing!
What a brave soul you are, Susan. My daughter and son-in-law paddleboard and even take my granddaughter (3-years-old) out on the board. It is amazing how fearless the paddleboarders are. Even if you say your not, you certainly are and you are even going to do it again. I’m sending you commendations on trying a new poetry form, too.
Thanks, Carol! I do love being on the water (or in it, sometimes!) I saw other families out with small children. The kids seemed to love it–I’ll bet your granddaughter does, too!
I have paddle boarded a few times and it definitely seems at first that it will be impossible. But you faced the challenge and tried it and learned too! For instance, you learned that a lot of people kneel–for good reason. Your poem expresses well what you went through. I remember the feeling of “shaking shanks.”
Hooray for trying something new! A friend of mine is learning to paddle board and she also has trouble standing. I love that you captured your adventure in a new poetry form. Your joy and sense of humor are infectious, Susan. Thank you for sharing!
Thanks, Catherine. My daughter made standing up look so easy! My friend who went for the first time couldn’t stand up either. But I’m glad I tried.
I love the story behind the poem and the poem…I’d be laughing too. What’s great about laughing like that is it’s so unexpected and so full. What a wonderful memory and now poem from it you’ve written with your daughter. Delightful.
Thank you, Linda. You’re right- the unexpectedness was wonderful.