Last Sunday we went to Abiquiu Lake for some fishing (David) and stand-up paddleboarding (me). I know I’m not standing up in this photo – this was when I first got it – but I really can! I wasn’t able to find any pics of me standing and paddling. This is partly because David obviously would be the picture-taker, so I don’t have them on my phone or computer. It’s also because I told him not to take photos of me in my bathing suit because I never look as athletic and gazelle-like as I do in my mind and this is one place I’d rather not deal with crushing reality.
Just imagine me in a bikini, golden tan, with long, lean thighs and washboard abs, okay?
So, I’ve been doing the stand-up paddleboarding for two years now and I’m pleased to say I’m getting pretty decent at it. Last summer in San Diego I rented a board and got advice from a very helpful surfer dude that really improved my form. It’s both peaceful and good exercise – why I have those washboard abs! – and excellent for core strength and balance. Plus it’s super cool to glide over the surface of the lake and see the fish swimming by.
Things that make it more challenging are driving winds – very difficult to make progress standing up because the body creates so much resistance, like a sail-and the wakes from boats.
On Sunday there were several jet boats with water skiers. In fact, my friend told me that she saw on Instagram that Cassidy Freeman was on the lake in one of those boats. She’s likely in the area filming Longmire. I suspect what happened is her fault, because that bitch has always been jealous of me.
I was paddling along fine, feeling good, the lake lovely and cool, not too choppy yet, though the wind was picking up. Then a big swell from a passing jet boat came rolling in, rocking me massively. I rode it out, though! I kept my balance, eyes up, knees bent and stayed up until the water calmed.
But, you know what? It rattled me. My adrenaline shot up, I got shaky. I got nervous. Even though I tried talking myself through it, I no longer felt serene.
When it happened again – another swell from a jet boat, probably Cassidy’s, swamping me – I fell.
Now, I should clarify that falling off the paddleboard is seriously No Big Deal. Because you’re on water. Boom, under you go. It’s even refreshing. It’s not like I hurt myself. I’m a good swimmer and NM regulations require the life vest, so I’d float regardless.
But there’s the moment of floundering. I’d forgotten and worn my good sunglasses and those were gone, sacrificed to Lady Abiquiu. And there’s the whole pride thing which apparently doesn’t goeth before a fall, because I still had mine, all bruised and stinging, even though I don’t think anyone even saw. Besides, who cares if they did?
Falling rattled me even more. I’ve been thinking about it since then.
With stand-up paddleboarding, I want to get so I don’t care if I fall. It should be equally fun, in and out of the water. I’m not trying to win a water-gazelle competition. I learn as much – if not more – from falling as from staying on. It’s a weird emotional attachment to some idea of success that I need to weed out of myself.
But it’s also a good metaphor for life. We like it when life is smooth and serene. I know I do! Peaceful orderly days, beauty around us, working at something we feel good about doing. And then the wave comes and swamps us. We’re rattled and sometimes fall. Getting back on that metaphorical board – which isn’t easy, but it’s that, drown or tread water – takes a lot of effort. I want to get so I’m okay with that, too. When things happen in life that upset my balance and topple me, I want to get so I take the dunking philosophically and go back to what I was doing.
In a world that can feel like a stormy lake full of careless jet boats, it’s a critical skill to acquire.