I learned to swim at 39, paddled a 6 man canoe at 40, bought my first surfboard at 43 and now at 45, am remembering the joys and frustrations of windsurfing. That makes me 6 in water years and is my excuse for periodic (ok excessive) whimpering and scaredy cat behavior.
I have delusions of grandeur from looking at too many surf magazines...... They don’t seem to show the learning curve of a non-water chick who grew up in the industrial north of England tackling the art of surfing-I cant' imagine why?! I want to bust a move for an aqua-life in my middle years, but with my own fears leading the charge for mutiny, a double page spread in 'Surfer' doesn’t appear to be in my future.
Still, I’m lucky to have friends who despite, (or perhaps because of) my being such an easy target keep encouraging me back into their watery element. And while I’m crap at all of the afore mentioned sports, the thrill I get & triumph I feel from playing in the shallow end of the ocean is deeply rewarding.
While I’m not exactly a tough girl on the open seas, I am pushing my own envelope with each dip in the briny. My desire to play is strong, yet the rebellious mutineers keep showing up. Those little basatrds better shape up or ship out- via the plank……
Oh yes and I’m thinking of buying an OC1, have I gone totally mad?